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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d08fe0c --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #69052 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/69052) diff --git a/old/69052-0.txt b/old/69052-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 74d86eb..0000000 --- a/old/69052-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8632 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The ward of Tecumseh, by Crittenden -Marriott - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The ward of Tecumseh - -Author: Crittenden Marriott - -Illustrator: Frank McKernan - -Release Date: September 26, 2022 [eBook #69052] - -Language: English - -Produced by: D A Alexander, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The - Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WARD OF TECUMSEH *** - - - - - -THE WARD OF TECUMSEH - - - - -_By CRITTENDEN MARRIOTT_ - -SALLY CASTLETON, SOUTHERNER - -_Six Illustrations by N. C. Wyeth. $1.25 net._ - -“A swiftly moving, entertaining tale of love and daring secret service -work.” - --_Chicago Record Herald_ - -OUT OF RUSSIA - -_Illustrated by Frank McKernan. $1.25 net._ - -“There is everything that goes to make up a story wholesomely exciting.” - - --_The Continent, Chicago_ - -THE ISLE OF DEAD SHIPS - -_Illustrated by Frank McKernan. $1.00 net._ - -“Chapter after chapter unfolds new and startling adventures.” - - --_Philadelphia Press_ - - - J. B. LIPPINCOTT CO. - PUBLISHERS PHILADELPHIA - - -[Illustration: ALAGWA COMES TO THE COUNCIL FIRE - _Page 304_] - - - - - THE WARD OF - TECUMSEH - - BY - CRITTENDEN MARRIOTT - - AUTHOR OF “SALLY CASTLETON, SOUTHERNER,” “THE ISLE OF DEAD - SHIPS,” ETC. - - WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY - FRANK McKERNAN - - [Illustration] - - PHILADELPHIA & LONDON - J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY - 1914 - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY CRITTENDEN MARRIOTT - - PUBLISHED SEPTEMBER, 1914 - - PRINTED BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY - AT THE WASHINGTON SQUARE PRESS - PHILADELPHIA, U. S. A. - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - - PAGE - - ALAGWA COMES TO THE COUNCIL FIRE _Frontispiece_ - - ALAGWA, BEING WOUNDED, IS RESCUED BY JACK TELFAIR 80 - - ALAGWA SHOOTS CAPTAIN BRITO 194 - - JACK TELFAIR AND CAPTAIN BRITO SETTLE THEIR DISPUTE 330 - - - - -THE WARD OF TECUMSEH - - - - -CHAPTER I - - -WHEN the beautiful Sally Habersham accepted Dick Ogilvie her girl -associates rejoiced quite as much as she did, foreseeing the return to -their orbits of sundry temporarily diverted masculine satellites. Her -mother’s friends did not exactly rejoice, for Dick Ogilvie had been -a great “catch” and his capture was a sad loss, but they certainly -sighed with relief; for they had always felt that Sally Habersham was -altogether too charming to be left at large. About the only mourners -were a score or so of young men, whose hearts sank like lead when they -heard the news. - -The young men took the blow variedly, each according to his nature. -One or two made such a vehement pretense of not caring that everybody -decided that they cared a great deal; two or three laughed at -themselves in the vain hope of preventing other people from laughing -at them; several got very drunk, as a gentleman might do without -disgrace in that year of 1812; others hurriedly set off to join the -army of thirty-five thousand men that Congress had just authorized in -preparation for the coming war with Great Britain; the rest stayed -home and moped, unable to tear themselves away from the scene of their -discomfiture. - -Of them all none took the blow harder than Jaqueline Telfair, commonly -known as Jack. Jack was just twenty-one, and the fact that he was a -full year younger than Miss Habersham, had lain like a blight over the -whole course of his wooing. In any other part of the land he might have -concealed his lack of years, for he was unusually tall and broad and -strong, but he could not do so at his home in Alabama, where everybody -had known everything about everybody for two hundred years and more. -Still, Jack hoped against hope and refused to believe the news until he -received it from Miss Habersham’s own lips. - -Miss Habersham, by the way, was not quite so composed as she tried -to be when she told him. Jack was so big and fine and looked at her -so straight and, altogether, was such a lovable boy that her heart -throbbed most unaccountably and before she quite knew what she was -doing she had leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. “Good-by, -Jack, dear,” she said softly. Then, while Jack stood petrified, she -turned and fled. She did not love Jack in the least and she did love -Dick Ogilvie, but--Oh! well! Jack was a gentleman; he would understand. - -Jack did understand. For a few seconds he stood quite still; then he -too walked away, white faced and silent. - -The next morning he went out to hunt; that is, he took a light shot-gun -and tramped away into the half dozen square miles of tangled woodland -that lay at the back of the Telfair barony along the Tallapoosa River. -But as he left his dog and his negro body-servant, Cato, at home, he -probably went to be alone rather than to kill. - -Spring was just merging into summer, and the sun spots were dancing in -the perfumed air across the tops of the grasses. Great butterflies were -flitting over the painted buttercups and ox-eyed daisies, skimming the -shiny gossamers beneath which huge spiders lay in wait. From every bush -came the twitter of nestlings or the wing flash of busy bird parents. -Squirrels, red and gray, flattening themselves against the bark, peered -round the trunks of great trees with bright, suspicious eyes. Molly -cottontails crouched beneath the growing brambles. Round about lay the -beautiful woodland, range after range of cobweb-sheeted glades splashed -with yellow light. Crisp oaks and naked beeches, mingled with dark -green hemlocks and burnished quivering pines, towered above bushes of -sumach and dogwood, twined and intertwined with swift-growing dewberry -vines. From somewhere on the right came the sound of water rippling -over a pebbly bed. - -Abruptly Jack halted, stiffening like a pointer pup, and leaned -forward, gun half raised, trying to peer through the sun-soaked bushes -of the moist glade. He had heard no sound, seen nothing move, yet his -skin had roughened just as that of a wildcat roughens at the approach -of danger. Instinct--the instinct of one born and brought up almost -within sight of the frontier--told him that something dangerous was -watching him from the jungly undergrowth before him. It might be a bear -or a wolf or a panther, for none of these were rare in Alabama in the -year 1812. But Jack thought it was something else. - -He took a step backward, cocking his gun as he did so and questing -warily to right and to left. - -“Come out of those bushes and show yourself,” he ordered sharply. - -From behind an oak an Indian stepped out, raising his right hand, palm -forward, as he came. In the hollow of his left arm he carried a heavy -rifle. Fastened in his scalp-lock were feathers of the white-headed -eagle, showing that he was a chief. - -“Necana!” he said. “Friend!” - -Instinctively Jack threw up his hand. “Necana!” he echoed. The tongue -was that of the Shawnees. Jack had not heard it for ten years, not -since the last remnant of the Shawnee tribe had left the banks of the -Tallapoosa and gone northward to join their brethren on the Ohio; but -at the stranger’s greeting the almost forgotten accents sprang to his -lips. “Necana,” he repeated. “What does my brother here, far from his -own people?” - -Wonderingly, he stared at the warrior as he spoke. The man was a -Shawnee; so much was certain, but his costume differed somewhat -from that of the Shawnees to whom Jack had been accustomed, and the -intonation of his speech rang strange. His moccasins, the pouch that -swung to his braided belt, all were foreign. His accent, too, was -strange. Moreover, though clearly a chief, he was alone instead of -being well escorted, as etiquette demanded. Plainly he had travelled -fast and long, for his naked limbs were lean and worn, mere skin and -bone and stringy muscles. Hunger spoke in his deep-set eyes. - -At Jack’s words his face lighted up. Evidently the sound of his own -tongue pleased him. Across his breast he made a swift sign, then waited. - -Dazedly Jack answered by another sign, the answering sign learned long -ago when as a boy he had sat at a Shawnee council and had been adopted -as a member of the clan of the Panther. - -In response the savage smiled. “I seek the young chief Telfair,” he -said. “He whom the Shawnees of the south raised up as Te-pwe (he who -speaks with a straight tongue). Knowest thou him, brother?” - -Jack stared in good earnest. “I am Jack Telfair,” he said, haltingly, -dragging the Shawnee words from his reluctant memory. “Ten years ago -the squaw Methowaka adopted me at the council fire of the Panther -clan.” He hesitated. Ten years had blurred his memory of the ritual of -the clan, but he knew well that it required him to proffer hospitality. - -“My brother is welcome,” he went on, stretching out his hand. “Will -he not eat at the campfire of my father and rest a little beneath our -rooftree?” - -The Shawnee clasped the hand gravely. “My brother’s words are good,” he -answered. “Gladly would I stop with him if I might. But I come from a -far country and I must return quickly. I turn aside from my errand to -bring a message and a belt to my brother.” - -From his pouch the chief drew a belt of beautiful white wampum. “Will -my brother listen?” he asked. - -Jack nodded. “Brother! I listen,” he answered. - -“It is well! Many years ago a chief of the elder branch of my brother’s -house was the friend of Tecumseh. They dwelt in the same cabin and -followed the same trails. They were brothers. Ten years ago the white -chief travelled the long trail to the land of his fathers. But before -he died he said to Tecumseh: ‘Brother! To you I leave my one child. -Care for her as you would your own. Perhaps in days to come men of my -own house may seek her, saying that to her belong much land and gold. -If they come from the south, from the branch of my house living in -Alabama, at the ancient home of the Shawnees, let her go with them. But -if they come from the branch of my house that dwells in England do not -let her go. The men of that branch, the branch of the chief Brito, are -wicked and vile, men whose hearts are bad and who speak with forked -tongues. If they come for her, then do you seek out my brothers in the -south and tell them, that they may take her and protect her. If they -fail you then let her live with you forever.’ - -“Since the chief died ten years have passed, and the maid has grown -straight and tall in the lodge of Tecumseh. Now the chief Brito has -come, wearing the redcoat of the English warriors. He speaks fair, -saying that to the maid belong great lands and much gold and that he, -her cousin, would take her across the great water and give them into -her keeping. He is a big man, strong and skilful, to all seeming a fit -mate for the maiden. If his tongue is forked, Tecumseh knows it not. -But Tecumseh remembers the words of his dead friend and wishes not to -give the maid up to one whom he hated. Yet he would not keep her from -her own. Therefore he sends this belt to his younger brother, he of -whom his friend spoke, he whom the mother of Tecumseh raised up as a -member of the Panther clan, and says to him: ‘Come quickly. The maid is -of your house; come and take her from my lodge at Wapakoneta and see -that she gets all that is hers.’” - -Jack took the belt eagerly. To go to the lodge of Tecumseh to bring -back a kinswoman to whom had descended great estates and against whom -foes--he at once decided that they were foes--were plotting--What boy -of twenty-one would not jump at the chance. - -And to go to Ohio--the very name was a challenge. The Ohio of 1812 was -not the Ohio of today, not the smiling, level country, set with towns, -crisscrossed with railways, plastered with rich farms where the harvest -leaps to the tickling of the hoe. It was far away, black with the vast -shadow of perpetual forests, beneath which quaked great morasses. -Within it roved bears, deer, buffalo, panthers, venomous snakes, -renegades, murderers, Indians--the bravest and most warlike that the -land had yet known. - -Across it ran the frontier, beyond which all things were possible. -For thirty years and more, in peace and in war, British officers and -British agents had crossed it and had passed up and down behind it, -loaded with arms and provisions and rewards for the scalps of American -men and women and children. Steadily, irresistibly, unceasingly, the -Americans had driven back that frontier, making every fresh advance -with their blood, their sweat, and their agony; and as steadily the -redcoats had retreated, but had ever sent their savage emissaries to -do their devilish work. Ohio had taken the place of Kentucky as a -watchword with the adventurous youth of the east; to grow old without -giving Ohio a chance to kill one had become almost a reproach. - -Besides, war with Great Britain was unquestionably close at hand. All -over the country troops were mustering for the invasion of Canada. -General Hull in Ohio, General Van Rensselaer at Niagara, and General -Bloomfield at Plattsburg were preparing to cross the northern border -at a moment’s notice. In Ohio, Jack would be in the very forefront of -the fighting. Both by instinct and ancestry the lad was a born fighter, -always on tip-toe for battle; he had shown this before and was to show -it often afterwards. But the last three months had been an interlude, -during which Sally Habersham had been the one real thing in a world of -shadows. Now he had awakened. He would not dream in just the same way -again. - -With swelling heart he grasped the proffered belt. - -“The maiden is white?” he questioned. - -“As thyself, little brother. She is the daughter of Delaroche Telfair, -the friend of Tecumseh, who died at Pickawillany fifteen years ago. -Moreover, she is very fair.” - -The Indian spoke simply. He did not ask whether Jack would come; the -latter’s acceptance of the belt pledged him to that course and to -question him further would be insulting. He did not ask any pledge as -to the treatment of the girl; apparently he well knew that none was -necessary. - -Jack considered. “I will find the maiden at Wapakoneta?” he questioned. - -“If my brother comes quickly. My brother knows that war is in the air. -If my brother is slow let him inquire of Colonel Johnson at Upper -Piqua. The maiden is known as Alagwa (the Star). Has my brother more to -ask?” - -Jack shook his head. If he held been speaking to a white man he would -have had a score of questions to ask; but he had learned the Indian -taciturnity. All had been said; why vainly question more? - -“No!” he answered. “I have nothing more to ask. My brother may expect -me at Wapakoneta as quickly as possible. I go now to make ready.” He -did not again press his hospitality on the chief. He knew it would be -useless. - -The Shawnee bowed slightly; then he turned on his heel and melted -noiselessly into the underbrush. - -Jack stared after him wonderingly. Then he stared at the belt in his -hand. So quickly the chief had come and so quickly he had gone that -Jack needed the sight of something material to convince himself that he -had not been dreaming. - -Not the least amazing part of the chief’s coming had been the message -he had brought. Jack had heard of Delaroche Telfair, but he had heard -of him only vaguely. When his Huguenot forefathers had fled from -France, a century and a quarter before, one branch had stopped in -England and another branch had come to America. The American branch, at -least, had not broken off all connection with the elder titled branch -of the family, which had remained in France. Indeed, as the years went -by and religious animosities died out, the connection had if anything -grown closer. Communication had been solely by letter, but it is not -rare that relatives who do not see each other are the better friends. A -hundred years had slipped by and then the Terror had driven the Count -Telfair and his younger brother, Delaroche, from France. The count had -stayed in London and bye and bye had gone back to join the court of -Napoleon. But Delaroche had shaken the soil of France from his feet and -had crossed to America with a number of his countrymen and had founded -Gallipolis, on the banks of the Ohio, the second city in the state. -Later he had become a trader to the Indians and at last was rumored to -have joined the Shawnees. That had been fifteen years before and none -of the Alabama Telfairs had heard of him since. - -And now had come this surprising news. He was dead! His daughter had -been brought up by the great chief Tecumseh and was nearly grown -and was the heiress of great estates. Brito Telfair--Jack vaguely -recalled the name as that of the head of the branch that had stopped -in England--sought to get possession of her. Tecumseh liked him, but, -bound by a promise to the girl’s dead father, had refused to give her -up and had sent all the weary miles from Ohio to Alabama to seek out -the American Telfairs and keep his pledge. More, he might have long -contemplated the necessity of keeping it. It might have been at his -suggestion that his mother, Methowaka, who had been born in Alabama, at -Takabatchi, on the Tallapoosa River, not twenty miles from the Telfair -barony, had revisited her old home about ten years before, shortly -before her tribe had gone north for good and all, and had “raised up” -Jack as a member of the great Panther clan. - -And now he had sent for him, sent for him over nearly a thousand -miles of prairie, swamp, and forest, past hostile Indian villages and -suspicious white men. Jack thought of it and marvelled. Few white men -would do so much to keep a pledge to a friend ten years dead! - -As he pondered Jack had been pacing slowly homeward. At last he halted -on a rustic bridge thrown across a swift-flowing little creek that -sang merrily through the woodland. On the hill beyond, at the crest of -a velvety shadow-flecked lawn, rose the white-stoned walls of the home -where he had been born and bred. Around it stretched acres of field -and orchard, vivid with the delicate blossoms of apples and of plums, -the pink-white haze of peach, the light green spears of corn, and the -darker green of tobacco. Over his head a belted kingfisher screamed, -a crimson cardinal flashed like a live coal from tree to tree, a -woodpecker drummed at a tree. Below flashed the creek, a singing water -pebbled with pearls. Jack did not see nor hear them; arms on rail he -stared blankly, pondering. - -A voice startled him and he swung round to face his body-servant, Cato, -a negro a few years older than himself. - -Cato was panting. “Massa Colonel’s home, suh,” he gasped. “An’ he want -you, suh. He’s in a pow’ful hurry.” - -Jack stared at the boy. “Father home!” he exclaimed, half to himself. -“I didn’t expect him for hours.” - -“He’s done got home, suh. He ride Black Rover most near to death, suh. -Yes, suh! He’s in most pow’ful hurry.” - - - - -CHAPTER II - - -COLONEL TELFAIR was striding excitedly up and down the wide verandah, -lashing as he went at the tall riding boots he wore. His plum-colored, -long-skirted riding coat, his much-beruffled white shirt, and his -tight-fitting breeches were dusty and spattered with dried mud. It -needed not the white-lathered horse with drooping head that a negro -was leading from the horseblock to show that he had ridden fast and -furiously. - -From one end of the porch to the other he strode, stopping at each to -scan the landscape, then restlessly paced back again. A dozen negroes -racing in every direction confirmed the urgent haste that his manner -showed. - -Abruptly he paused as Jack, followed by Cato, came hurrying up the -drive. “Hurry, sir, hurry,” he bawled. “Don’t keep me waiting all day.” - -Jack quickened his steps. “I didn’t know you were back, father,” -he declared, as he came close. “I’m glad you are, sir. I’ve news, -important news!” - -The elder Telfair scowled. “News, have you, sir?” he rumbled. “So -have I. Come inside, quick, and we’ll exchange.” Turning, he led -the way through a deep hall into a great room, whose oak-panelled -walls were hung with full-length portraits of dead and gone -Telfairs--distinguished men and women whose strong faces showed that -in their time they had cut a figure in the world. There he faced round. - -“Now, sir, tell your news,” he ordered. “I’ll warrant it’s short and -foolish.” - -“Perhaps!” Jack grinned; he and his father were excellent friends. “Did -you know, sir, that our kinsman, Delaroche Telfair, was dead, leaving a -daughter who is a ward of Tecumseh, the Shawnee chief?” - -The elder Telfair blinked. “Good Lord!” he said, softly. He tottered a -step or two backward and dropped heavily into a chair. “You’ve had a -letter, too?” he gasped. - -“A letter? No, sir; not a letter----” - -“You must have, sir. Don’t trifle with me! I’m in no temper to stand -it. Who brought you the letter?” - -“I haven’t any letter, father. I haven’t heard of any letter. I met an -Indian----” - -“An Indian?” - -“Yes. A Shawnee from Ohio, a messenger from Tecumseh----” - -“Tecumseh! Good Lord! Do you know--But that can wait. Go on.” - -“Delaroche seems to have pledged him to call on us in case certain -things happened. They have happened and he has sent. He wants me to -come and get the girl.” - -“Good God!” muttered the elder man once more. “Look--look at this, -Jack!” He held out an open letter. “I got it at Montgomery, and I rode -like the devil to bring it, and here a murdering Shawnee gets ahead of -me and----” His words died away; clearly the situation was beyond him. - -Jack took the letter doubtfully and unfolded it. Then he looked at his -father amazedly. - -“It’s from Capron, the lawyer for the Telfair estates in France,” -interjected the elder man. “It’s in French, of course. Read it aloud! -Translate it as you go.” - -Jack walked to the window, threw up the blind, and held the letter to -the light. - - “My very dear sir,” he read. “It is my sad duty to apprise you that - my so justly honored patron, Louis, Count of Telfair, passed away on - the 30th ultimo, videlicet, December 30, 1811. The succession to the - title and the estate now falls to the descendants of his brother, M. - Delaroche Telfair, who, as you of course know, emigrated to America - in 1790 and settled at Gallipolis on the Ohio, which without doubt - is very close to your own estates in Alabama. Perhaps it is that you - have exchanged frequent visits with him and that his history and the - so sad circumstances of his death are to you of the most familiar. If - so, much of this letter is unnecessary. - - “In the remote contingency, however, that you may not know of his - history in America, permit me to repeat the little that is known to - us here in France. It will call the attention; this: - - “Among the papers of my so noble patron, just deceased, I have found - a letter, dated June 10, 1800, with the seal yet unbroken, which - appears to have reached the château Telfair many years ago but not - to have been brought to his lordship’s attention. Of a truth this is - not surprising, the year 1800 being of the most disturbed and the - years following being attended by turbulence both of politics and of - strife, during which his lordship seldom visited the château. - - “This letter inclosed certificates of the marriage at Marietta, Ohio, - of M. Delaroche Telfair to Mlle. Margaret De la War, on June 18, - 1794, and of the birth of a daughter, Estelle, on Oct. 9, 1795. The - originals appear to be on file at Marietta. M. Delaroche says that he - sends the copies as a precaution. - - “No other information of father or daughter or of any other children - appears to be of record, but the late count had without a doubt - received further news, for he several times spoke to me of his so - sadly deceased brother. - - “In default of a possible son the title of Count of Telfair devolves - on M. Brito Telfair, representative of the branch of the family so - execrated by his lordship now departed. Your own line comes last. - The estates go to the Lady Estelle Telfair, or, if she be deceased, - to Count Brito Telfair, whose ancestors have long been domiciled in - England.” - -Jack looked up. “Brito Telfair!” he exclaimed. “That’s the name the -Indian mentioned. Who is he exactly?” - -“He’s the head of the British branch. His people moved there a hundred -years or so ago, after the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes. We came -to America and they stopped in England. I understand he’s an officer in -the British army, heavily in debt, and a general roué. I reckon he’s -about forty years old.” - -With a shrug of his shoulders--a trick inherited from his Gallic -ancestors--Jack resumed: - - “Not knowing where to reach the Lady Estelle (or other descendants of - M. Delaroche) I address you, asking that you convey to her my most - humble felicitations. I can not close, my dear sir, without a word - of the caution. The Lady Estelle would appear to be about seventeen - years of age. Her property in France is of a value, ah! yes, but of - a value the most great. Adventurers will surely seek her out and - she will need friends. Above all she should not be allowed to fall - into the hands of M. Brito, who would undoubtedly wed her out of all - hand to gain possession of her estates. Both the late count and M. - Delaroche (when I knew him) hated and despised the English branch of - M. Brito. To you, beloved of my master the count, I appeal to save - and protect his heiress from those he so execrated. I have the honor, - my very dear sir, to be your obedient servant. Verbum sapientes satis - est. - - HENRI CAPRON, avocat. - - POSTSCRIPTUM.--I open this to add that I have just learned that M. - Brito sailed with his regiment for Montreal a month ago. He is of a - repute the most evil. If he gets possession of the Lady Estelle he - will without the doubt wed her, forcibly if need be. And it would - be of a shame the most profound if the Telfair estates should be - squandered in paying the debts of one so disreputable.” - -Jack crumpled the letter in his hand. “I should think it would be,” he -cried. “Thank the Lord Tecumseh remembered Delaroche’s warning. But let -me tell you my story.” - -Rapidly Jack recounted the circumstances of the Shawnee’s visit and -recited the message he had brought. “This explains everything,” he -ended. “Brito Telfair wants to get possession of the girl and marry her -before she knows anything about her rights. Well! He shan’t!” - -Colonel Telfair laughed. “Lord! Jack! You’re heated,” he exclaimed. -“Brito Telfair probably isn’t much worse than other men of his age and -surroundings. You’ve got to allow for Capron’s prejudices, national and -personal. Marriage with him mightn’t be altogether unsuitable. Still, -we’ve got to make sure that it is suitable, and if it isn’t, we’ve----” - -“We’ve got to stop it!” Jack struck in. “The first thing is to find the -girl and bring her here. We can decide what to do after that.” - -Colonel Telfair became suddenly grave. “Yes!” he answered, “I reckon we -can, if--” He broke off and contemplated his son curiously. “How does -Tecumseh happen to send for you, sir?” he demanded. “But I reckon it -comes of your running wild in their villages while they were down here. -They adopted you or something, didn’t they?” - -Jack nodded. “Yes! Tecumseh’s mother adopted me into the Panther clan. -She was born down here, you know, and was back here on a visit when I -knew her.” - -“Humph!” The old gentleman pondered a moment. Then suddenly he caught -fire. “Yes! Go, Jack, go!” he thundered. “Damme, sir! I’d like to go -with you, sir. I envy you! If I was a few years younger I’d go, too, -sir! Damme! I would.” - -“I wish you could, father.” The boy threw his arm affectionately about -the older man’s shoulders. “Lord! wouldn’t we have times together. We’d -rescue the girl and then we’d help General Hull smash the redcoats and -the redskins.” - -“We would, sir! Damme, we would!” The old gentleman shook his fist -in the air. “We’d--we’d----” He broke off, catching at his side, and -dropped into a chair, which Jack hurriedly pushed forward. “Oh! Jack! -Jack!” he groaned. “What d’ye mean by getting your old father worked -up till he’s ill?” Then with a sudden change of front--“You--you’ll -be careful, won’t you, Jack? Not _too_ careful, you know--not when -you face the enemy, but--but--damme, sir, you know what I mean. You -needn’t get yourself killed for the fun of it, sir. I--I’m an old man, -Jack, and you’re my only son and if you----” - -“Don’t fear, father! I know the woods. I know the trails. I know the -Indian tongues. I am a member of the Panther clan. More, I am going to -Ohio at the invitation of Tecumseh. Until war begins every member of my -clan will be bound to help me because I am their clan brother; every -Shawnee will be bound to help me because I am the friend of Tecumseh; -every other warrior will befriend me once he knows who I am. If I -travel fast I may rescue cousin Estelle before----” - -“Estelle! Estelle! Good God! Yes! I’d forgotten her altogether. I -wonder what she’ll be like: not much like our young ladies; that’s -certain. Bring her back to us, Jack. We need a daughter in the family. -And as for France, damme, I’ll go over with her myself, sir.” - -“I’ll wager you will, father. I’ll get her before war begins if I -can. If I can’t--well, I’ll get her somehow. Once war begins, my clan -membership fails and----” - -“Well! Let it fail, sir. I don’t half understand about this clan -business of yours, sir. I don’t approve of it, sir. How will war effect -that, sir?” - -Colonel Telfair’s ignorance as to the Indian clans was no greater than -that of nine-tenths of his fellow citizens, whether of his own times or -of later ones, dense ignorance having commonly prevailed not only as -to the nature but as to the very existence of the clans. - -But Jack knew them. Much had he forgotten, but in the last hour much -had come back to him. Thoughts, memories, bits of ritual, learned long -before and buried beneath later knowledge, struggled upward through the -veil of the years and rose to his lips. - -“They--they are like Masonic orders, father,” he began, vaguely. “They -know no tribe, no nation. Mohawks and Shawnees and Creeks of the same -clan are brothers, and yet--and yet--if the Shawnee sends a war belt -to the Creeks, clan ties are suspended--just as between Masons of -different nations. But when the battle is over, fraternity brothers are -bound to succor each other, bound to ransom each other from the flame. -This they may perhaps do by persuading the tribe to adopt them in place -of some warrior who has been slain.” - -“Humph! I thought they had been adopted already?” - -“As members of the clan, yes! Adoption by the tribe is different. It -changes the entire blood of him who is adopted. He _becomes_ the man -whose name and place he takes, and he is bound to live and fight as -his predecessor would have lived and fought and to forget that he ever -lived another life. Membership in the clans by birth is strictly in -the female line. The women control them and decide who shall be adopted -into them.” - -“All right. I don’t half understand. But I suppose you do. Anyway, -I’m glad you’ve got your membership to help you--Look here, Jack!” An -idea had struck the elder man. “D--d if I don’t believe that warrior -of yours was Tecumseh himself. I started to speak of it when you first -named him. I met Colonel Hawkins--he’s the Indian agent--this morning -and he told me that a big chief from the north was down here, powwowing -to the Creeks at Takabatchi--urging them to dig up the hatchet, I -reckon. Tecumseh was here a year ago, you know. Maybe he’s come back!” - -Jack nodded, absently. “Maybe it was Tecumseh, father,” he answered. He -had just remembered Sally Habersham and he was wondering if she would -grieve when she heard that he had gone away. For a time, perhaps! But -not for long. She would have other thoughts to engross her. Jack knew -it and was glad to know it. He wanted no one to be unhappy because -of him--least of all Sally Habersham. She who had been so kind--so -kind--His lips burned at the memory of her kiss. “I’ll prove myself -worthy of it!” he swore to himself. “I’ll carry it unsullied to the -end. No other woman----” - -Telfair broke in. “Damme! sir! What are you moonshining about now?” -he roared. “About your cousin Estelle? Bring her back and marry her, -Jack. She’s a great heiress, my lad, a great heiress.” - -Jack drew himself up. Strangely enough he had thought little about the -girl-child for whose sake he was going to undertake the long journey. -His father’s words grated on him. - -“I shall never marry, father,” he declared. - - - - -CHAPTER III - - -THE sun was about to climb above the rim of the world. Already the -white dawn was silvering the grey mists that lay alike on plain and on -river and half hid the mossy green boles of the trees that stood on -the edge of the forest. From beneath it sounded the low murmur of the -waters of the Auglaize, toiling sluggishly through the timbers that -choked its bed and gave it its Indian name of Cowthenake, Fallen Timber -river. High about it whimpered the humming rush of wild ducks. From the -black wall of the forest that led northward to the Black Swamp came the -waking call of birds. - -Steadily the light grew. The first yellow shafts shimmered along the -surface of the mist, stirring it to sudden life. Out of the draperies -of fog, points seemed to rise, black against the curtain of the dawn. -To them the mists clung with moist tenacious fingers, resisting for a -moment the call of the sun, then shimmering away, leaving only a trace -of tears to sparkle in the sunlight. - -Steadily the sun mounted and steadily the mists shrank. The spectral -points, first evidence that land and not water lay beneath the fog, -broadened downward, here into tufts of hemlock, there into smoother, -more regular shapes that spoke of human workmanship. Louder and louder -grew the rippling of the river. Then, abruptly, the carpet of mist rose -in the air, shredding into a thousand wisps of white; for a moment it -obscured the view, then it was gone, floating away toward the great -forest, as if seeking sanctuary in its chilly depths. The black river -was still half-veiled, but the land lay bare, sparkling with jewelled -dew-drops. - -Close beside the river, on an elevation that rose, island like, above -the surrounding plain, stood the Indian village, row after row of -cabins, strongly built of heavy logs, roofed with poles, and chinked -with moss and clay. In and out among them moved half-wolfish dogs, that -had crept from their lairs to welcome the rising of the sun. - -No human being was visible, but an indistinct murmur, coming from -nowhere and everywhere, mingled with the rush of the river and the -whisper of the wind in the green rushes and the tall grass. The huts -seemed to stir visibly; first from one and then from a score, men, -women, and children bobbed out, some merrily, some grumpily, to stretch -themselves in the sunshine and to breathe in the soft morning air -before it began to quiver in the baking heat that would surely and -swiftly come. For early June was no less hot in northern Ohio in 1812, -when the whole country was one vast alternation of swamp and forest, -than it is a hundred years later when the land has been drained and the -forest cut away. - -From the door of a cabin near the centre of the town emerged a girl -sixteen or seventeen years of age, who stood still in the sunbeams, -eyes fixed on the trail that led away through the breaks in the -forest to the south. Her features, browned as they were by the sun -and concealed as they were by paint, yet plainly lacked the high -cheek-bones, black eyes, and broad nostrils of the Indians. Some alien -blood showed itself in the softness of her cheek, in the kindling color -in her long dark hair, in the brown of her eyes. Her graceful body had -the straight slenderness that in the quick-maturing Indian maids of -her size and height had given place to the rounded curves of budding -womanhood. Her head, alertly poised above her strong throat, showed -none of the marks of ancestral toil that had already begun to bow her -companions. In dress alone was she like them, though even in this the -unusual richness of her doeskin garb, belted at the hips with silver, -marked her as one of prominence. - -For a little longer the girl watched the southward trail; then her eyes -roved westward, across the rippling waters of the Auglaize, now veiled -only by scattered wisps of mist, and across its border of sedgy grass, -pale shimmering green in the mounting sun, and rested on a cabin that -stood on the further bank, between an orchard and a small field of -enormous corn. From this cabin two men were just emerging. - -They were too far away indeed for the average civilized man or woman to -distinguish more than that they were men and were dressed as whites. -The girl, however, was possessed of sight naturally strong and had been -trained all her life amid surroundings where quickness of vision might -easily mean the difference between life and death. She had seen the men -before and she recognized them instantly. - -One of them wore a red coat and carried himself with a ramrod-like -erectness that bespoke the British officer; the girl knew that he was -from Canada, probably from the fort at Malden, to which for three years -the Indians from a thousand square miles of American soil had been -going by tens and hundreds to return laden with arms and ammunition -and presents from His Majesty, the King of Great Britain. The second -was of medium height, shaggy, dressed in Indian costume, with a -handkerchief bound about his forehead in place of a hat. He could only -be James Girty, owner of the cabin, or his brother Simon, of infamous -memory--more probably the latter. - -As the girl watched them an Indian squaw crept out of a near-by cabin -and came toward her. - -“Ever the heart of Alagwa (the Star) turns toward the white men,” said -she, harshly. - -The girl started, the swift blood leaping to her cheeks. “Nay!” she -said. “These white men have red hearts. They are the friends of the -Indian. Katepakomen (Girty) is an Indian; his white blood has been -washed from his veins even as my own!” - -“_Your_ own!” The old woman laughed scornfully. “Not so! _Your_ heart -is not red. It is white.” - -Alagwa’s was not the Indian stoicism that meets all attacks with -immobility. Her lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears. “I am not -white,” she quavered. “I am red, red.” - -The old woman hesitated. She knew that between equals what she had said -would have been all but unforgiveable. Alagwa had been adopted into the -tribe years before in the place of another Alagwa who had died. She had -been “raised up” in place of her. Theoretically all white blood had -been washed out of her. She _was_ the dead. To remind her of her other -life and ancestry was the worst insult imaginable. The old woman knew -that Tecumseh would be very angry if he heard it. But she had an object -to gain and went on. - -“Then why does Alagwa refuse my son?” she said. “Why does she defy the -customs of her people--if they are her people. The council of women -have decreed that she shall wed Wilwiloway. If her heart is red why -does she not obey?” - -The girl hung her head. “I--I am too young to wed,” she protested. - -“Bah!” the old woman spat upon the ground. “Alagwa has seen seventeen -summers. Other girls wed at fifteen. Why should Alagwa scorn my son. -Is he not straight and tall? Is he not first among the warriors in war -and in chase? Has he not brought back many scalps? Alagwa’s heart is -white--not red.” - -“But----” - -“Were Wilwiloway other than he is, he would long ago have taken Alagwa -to his hut. But he will not. His heart, too, is white. He says Alagwa -must come to him willingly or not at all. He will not let us compel -her. He----” The old woman broke off with a catch in her voice--“he -loves Alagwa truly,” she pleaded, wistfully. “Will not Alagwa make his -moccasins and pound his corn!” - -The girl, who had slowly straightened up under the assault of the old -woman, weakened before the sudden change of tone. - -“Oh!” she cried. “I will try. Truly! I will try. Wilwiloway is good -and kind and brave. I am proud that he has chosen me. I wish I could -love him. But--but I do not, and I must love before I give myself. I am -bad! wicked! I know it. Yes! I have a white heart. But I will pray to -Mishemanitou, the Great God, to make it red.” - -The old woman caught the sobbing girl to her heart. “Do not weep!” she -said, gently. “See! the sun burns red through the trees; it is the -answer of Manitou, the mighty. He sends it as a message that your -heart shall turn from white to red. There! It is changed! Look up, -Alagwa, and be glad.” - -The girl raised her head and stared at the line of trees that curled -away in a great crescent toward the east and the west. The sun did -indeed burn red through them. Could it be an omen? As she stared the -squaw slipped silently away. - -Alagwa’s heart was burning hot within her. The squaw’s accusation that -her heart was white had cut deep. All her remembered life she had been -taught to hate and fear the white men. White men were the source of all -evil that had befallen her. They had driven her and her people back, -back, ever back, forcing them to give up one home after another. White -men had slain her friends; never did she inquire for some dear one who -was missing but to be told that he had been killed by the white men. -Again and again in her baby ears had rung the cries of the squaws, -weeping for the dead who would return no more. Of the other side of -the picture she knew nothing. Of the red rapine the Shawnee braves had -wrought for miles and miles to the south she had heard, but it was to -her only a name, not the awful fact that it had been to its victims. To -her the whites were aggressors, robbers, murderers, who were slowly but -surely crushing her Indian friends. - -Only the year before they had destroyed her home at Tippecanoe on the -banks of the Wabash. Well she remembered their advance, their fair -speaking that concealed their implacable purpose to destroy her people. -Well she remembered the great Indian council that debated whether to -fight or to yield, the promises of the Prophet that his medicine would -shield the Indians against the white men’s bullets, the night attack, -the repulse, the flight across miles of prairie to the ancestral home -at Wapakoneta. She remembered Tecumseh’s return--too late. Here, also, -she knew nothing of the other side--of the absolute military necessity -that the headquarters from which Tecumseh was preparing to sweep the -frontier should be destroyed and its menace ended. It was she and her -friends who had suffered and it was she and her friends who had fled, -half starved, across those perilous miles of swamp and morass. It was -the white men who had triumphed; and she hated them, hated them, hated -them. The memory of it all was bitter. - -And it was no less bitter because revenge seemed hopeless. Tecumseh was -planning revenge, she knew, but he no longer found the support he had -gained a year before. His own people, the Shawnees, implacable fighters -as they had been, had wearied of war at last. Black Wolf, the chief -at Wapakoneta, himself once a great warrior and a bitter foe of the -whites, now preached that further resistance was vain--that it meant -only death. Many of the tribe sided with him, for the Indian, no more -than the white man, unless maddened by long tyranny, cares to engage in -a contest where triumph is hopeless. The only hope lay in the redcoats, -soldiers of the great king across the water. They were planning war -against the Long Knives. If they should make common cause with the red -men, revenge might yet be won. If she could do anything to help! - -A footstep startled her and she flashed about to find Simon Girty and -the tall man in the red coat almost upon her. While she had dreamed of -the return of Tecumseh they had crossed the Auglaize river and had come -upon her unawares. - -Girty was as she had many times remembered him--a deeply-tanned man -perhaps forty years of age, with gray, sunken eyes, thin and compressed -lips, hyena chin, and dark shaggy hair bound with a handkerchief above -a low forehead, across which stretched a ghastly half-healed wound. In -his arms he carried a great bale, carefully wrapped. - -The other--Alagwa had never seen his like before--was tall and powerful -looking. His carriage was graceful and easy. His dark face, handsome in -a way though plainly not so handsome as it had been some years before, -was characterized by a powerful jaw that diverted attention from his -strong mouth and aquiline nose. He was regarding the girl with an -expression evidently intended to be friendly, but which somehow grated. -It seemed at once condescending, appraising, and insolent. - -All this Alagwa took in at a glance as she shrank backward, intent on -flight. But before she could move Girty’s voice broke in. - -“Stop!” he ordered, sharply, in the Shawnee tongue. “The white chief -from afar would speak with the Star maiden.” - -Alagwa paused, looking fearfully backward. But she did not speak and -Girty went on. - -“The white chief is of the House of Alagwa,” he declared. “His heart is -warm toward her. He brings good news and many presents to lay at her -feet.” He laid down the bale. - -Alagwa looked from it to the man and back again. “Let him speak,” she -said, in somewhat halting English. - -At the sound of his own tongue the Englishman’s face lighted up and he -took an impulsive step forward. “You speak English?” he exclaimed, with -a note of wonder in his voice. “Why did nobody tell me that? How did -you learn?” His surprise did not seem altogether complimentary. - -Alagwa was studying him shyly. She found his pink and white complexion -very pleasing after the coppery skins of the Indians and the no less -swarthy faces of most of the white men she had seen. Besides, this man -wore a red coat and the redcoats were the friends of Tecumseh. “I speak -it a little,” she said, hesitatingly. As a matter of fact she spoke -it rather well, having picked up much from time to time from Colonel -Johnson, the Indian agent, from two or three white prisoners, and from -Tecumseh himself. - -“That’s lucky. If I’d known that I’d have spoken to you before and -settled the business out of hand. You wouldn’t guess it, of course, -little forest maiden that you are, but you are a cousin of mine?” - -“A cousin? I?” Startled, palpitating, Alagwa leaned forward, staring -with wide eyes. No white man except her father had ever claimed kin -with her. What did it mean, this sudden appearance of one of her blood? - -“Yes! You’re my cousin and, egad, you’ll do the family honor! I’m -Captain Count Brito Telfair, you know, and you are the Lady Estelle -Telfair. Your father was my kinsman. I never met him, for he and his -people lived in France, and I and my people lived in England. Your -uncle was the Count Telfair. He died not long ago. He had neglected you -shamefully, but when he died it became my duty as head of the house to -come over here and fetch you back to France and give you everything you -want. Do you understand?” - -Alagwa did not understand wholly. Not only the words but the ideas were -new to her. But she gathered that she had white kinspeople, that they -had not altogether forgotten her, and that the speaker had come to -bring her gifts from them. Doubtfully she nodded. - -“I saw Tecumseh two months ago,” went on Captain Brito, “and I saw -you, too.” He smiled engagingly. “You were outside Tecumseh’s lodge as -I came out and I remember wishing that my new cousin might prove to -be half as charming. Of course I did not know you. Tecumseh told me -that he knew where Delaroche’s daughter was, but he refused to tell me -anything more. He said he would produce her in two months.” Captain -Brito’s face darkened. “These Indians are very insolent, but--Well, I -waited for a time, but when Tecumseh went away I made inquiries, and -Girty here found you for me. I can’t tell you how delighted I am to -find that you and the charming little girl I saw outside the lodge are -one and the same. It makes everything delightful.” - -Alagwa’s head was whirling. For ten years, practically all of her life -that she could remember, she had lived the life of an Indian with no -thought outside of the Indians. She had rejoiced with their joys, and -grieved with their woes. Like them she had hated the Americans from the -south and had looked upon the English on the north as her friends. - -And now abruptly another life had opened before her. A redcoat officer -had claimed her as kinswoman. The easy, casual, semi-contemptuous air -with which he spoke scarcely affected her, for she had been used to -concede the supremacy of man. She did not know what this claim might -portend, but it made her happy. No thought that she might have to leave -her Indian home had yet crossed her mind. Brito’s assertion that he had -come to take her to France had not yet seeped into her understanding. -To her France and England were little more than words. - -Uncertainly she smiled. “I am glad,” she murmured. - -Captain Brito took her hand and raised it to his lips. “You will be -more than glad when you understand,” he declared, patronizingly. “Of -course you can’t realize what a change this means for you.” He glanced -round and shuddered. “After this--ugh--England and France will be -paradise to you. Get ready and as soon as Tecumseh comes back and gives -me the proofs of your identity I’ll take you to Canada and then on to -England.” - -Alagwa shrank back. “I? To England?” she gasped. - -“Of course.” Captain Brito smiled. “All of your house are loyal -Englishmen and you must be a loyal Englishwoman. You really don’t know -what a wonderful country England is. It’s not a bit like this swampy, -forest-covered Ohio. And the people--Oh! Well! you’ll find them very -different from the Indians and from the bullying murdering Americans. -You’ll learn to be a great lady in England, you know.” - -A shadow fell between the two, and an Indian, naked save for a -breech-clout and for the eagle feathers rising from his scalp-lock, -thrust himself between the girl and the intruders. - -“White men go!” he ordered, in Shawnee. “Take presents and go!” - -Brito’s face flushed brick-red. He did not understand the words, but he -could not mistake the tone. His hand fell to his sword hilt. Instantly, -however, Girty stepped between. “Why does the Chief Wilwiloway -interfere?” he demanded. - -Wilwiloway leaned forward, his fierce eyes glittering into those of the -renegade. “Tecumseh say white men no speak to Alagwa. White men go!” he -ordered again. His words came like a low growl. - -For a moment the others hesitated. Then Brito nodded and said -something to Girty and the latter drew back, snarling but yielding. -Brito himself turned to Alagwa. “Good-by, cousin,” he called. “Since -this--er--gentleman objects I have to go. With your permission I’ll -return later--when Tecumseh is back.” With a smile and a bow he turned -away. He knew he could not afford to quarrel with Tecumseh until he had -secured the proofs of the girl’s identity. - -Wilwiloway called Girty back. “Take presents,” he ordered, pointing; -and with a savage curse the man obeyed. - -Wilwiloway watched them go. Then he turned to Alagwa and his face -softened. “They are bad men,” he said, gently. “Their words are forked. -Tecumseh commands that Alagwa shall not speak with them.” - -The girl did not look altogether submissive. Nevertheless she nodded. -“Alagwa will remember,” she promised. “Yet surely Tecumseh is deceived. -The white man speaks with a straight tongue. He brings Alagwa great -tidings. And the redcoats are the friends of the Shawnees.” - -The Indian shrugged his shoulders. “Tecumseh speaks; Alagwa must -obey!” he declared, bluntly. Then he turned away, leaving the girl to -wonder--quite as mightily as if she had lived all her life among her -civilized sisters. - -How long she stood and wondered she never knew. Abruptly she was roused -by a sound of voices from the direction of the southern outposts. -Steadily the sound grew, deepening into a many-throated chant--the -chant of welcome to those returning from a journey--the chant of -thanksgiving that those arriving have passed safely over all the -perils of the way: - - Greatly startled now have I been today - By your voice coming through the woods to this clearing; - With a troubled mind have you come - Through obstacles of every kind. - - Great thanks, therefore, we give, that safely - You have arrived. Now then, together, - Let both of us smoke. For all around indeed - Are hostile powers-- - -Alagwa spun round. She knew what the song meant--Tecumseh was returning. - -A moment later he passed her, striding onward to his lodge. His face -was stern--the face of one who goes to face the great crisis of his -life. Behind him came chief after chief, warrior after warrior, members -of many tribes. Versed in Indian heraldry as she was, Alagwa could not -read half the ensigns there foregathered. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - - -FOR nearly a month Jack Telfair, with black Cato at his heels, had -been riding northward through a country recently reclaimed from the -wilderness and reduced to civilization. Day after day he passed over -broad well-beaten roads from village to village and from farmstead to -farmstead, where clucking hens and lowing cattle had taken the place -of Indian, bear, and wildcat. Between, he rode through long stretches -of wilderness, where the settlements lay farther and farther apart and -the ill-kept way grew more and more rugged and silver-frosted boulders -glistened underfoot in the dawn. - -The route lay wholly west of the Alleghenies and the travellers had -to climb no such mighty barrier as that which stretched between the -Atlantic and the west. But the land steadily rose, and day by day the -sunset burned across increasing hills. The two passed Nashville--a -thriving town growing like a weed--and came at last to the Kentucky -border and the crest of the watershed between the Cumberland and the -Green river. Here, cutting across the headwaters of a deep, narrow -creek, ice cold and crystal clear, filled with the dusky shadows of -darting trout, they stumbled into the deep-cut trail travelled for -centuries by Indian warriors bound south from beyond the Ohio to wage -war on tribes living along the Atlantic and the Gulf. This trail was -nearly a thousand miles long; one branch started from the mouth of the -Mississippi and the other from the Virginia seaboard, and the two met -in southern Kentucky, crossed the Ohio, and followed the Miami toward -the western end of Lake Erie. Jack had only to follow it to reach his -destination. - -Like all Indian pathways, the trail clung to the highest ground, -following the route that was driest in rain, clearest of snow in -winter and of brush and leaves in summer, and least subject to forest -fires. Much of it was originally lined out by buffalo, which found -the way of least resistance as instinctively as the red men, but long -stretches of it had been made by the Indians alone. The buffalo trail -was broad and deep and was worn five or six feet into the soil; the -Indian trail was in few places more than a foot deep and was so narrow -that it was impossible to see more than a rod along it. No one could -traverse it without breaking the twigs and branches of the dense bushes -that overhung it on either side, leaving a record that to the keen -eye of the savage and of the woodsman was eloquent to the number who -had passed and the time of their passage. No one who once travelled -its vistaless stretches could fail to understand the ease with which -ambushes and surprises could be effected. - -Though the trail clung to high ground the exigencies of destination -compelled it in places to go down into the valleys. It had to descend -to cross the Kentucky river and to descend again into the valley of -the Licking as it approached the Ohio at Cincinnati. In such places -it had often been overflowed and obliterated and its route was far -less definite. However, this no longer mattered, for in all such parts -it had long been incorporated into the white man’s road. Much of it, -however, still endured and was to endure for more than a hundred years. -Beyond the Ohio it climbed once more and followed the crest of the -divide between Great and Little Miami rivers to Dayton, Piqua, and -Wapakoneta. - -Thirty years before men had fought their way over every inch of that -trail, dying by scores along it from the arrow, the tomahawk, and the -bullet. But that had been thirty years before. For twenty years the -trail had been safe as far as the Ohio; for ten it had been measurably -safe halfway up the state, to the edge of the Indian country. - -Throughout the journey Jack tried hard to be mournful. Every dawn as -he opened his eyes on a world new created, vivid, baptized with the -consecration of the dew, he reminded himself that life could hold no -happiness for him--since Sally Habersham had given her hand to another. -Every noontide as he saw the fields swelling with the growing grain, -the apples shaping themselves out of the air, the vagrant butterflies -seeking their painted mates above the deep, moist, clover-carpeted -meadows, he told himself that for him alone all the vast processes of -nature had ceased. Every evening, when the landscape smouldered in the -setting sun, when the red lights burned across the tips of the waving -grasses, when the burnished pines pointed aspiringly higher, when the -rushing rapids on the chance streams glittered in sparkling points of -multi-colored fire, he assured himself that to himself there remained -only the hard, straight path of duty. - -Yet, in spite of himself, the edge of his grief grew slowly but surely -dull. The bourgeoning forests, the swelling mountains, the vast -stretches of solitude were all so many veils stretched between him and -the past. His love for Sally Habersham did not lessen, perhaps, but -it became unreal, like the memory of a dear, dead dream that held no -bitterness. It was hard to brood on the life of gallant and lady, of -silver and damask, of polished floors and stately minuets, when his -every waking minute had to be spent in meeting the intensely practical -problems that beset the pioneers. It was hard to assure himself that he -would live and die virgin and that his house should die with him, when, -as often as not, he dropped off to sleep in the same house, if not the -same room, with a dozen or more sturdy boys and girls that were being -raised by one of those same pioneers and his no less vigorous wife. - -Besides, Cato would not let him brood. Cato had feminine problems of -his own which he insisted on submitting to his master’s judgment. When -rebuffed, he preserved an injured silence till he judged that Jack’s -mood had softened and then returned blandly to the charge. Very early -on the trip Jack gave up in despair all attempts to check his menial’s -tongue; he realized that nothing short of death would do this, and he -could not afford to murder his only companion, though he often felt as -if he would like to do it. - -“There ain’t no use a-talkin’, Marse Jack,” Cato observed one day. “The -onliest way to git along with a woman is to keep her a-guessin’. Jes’ -so long as she don’ know whar you is or what you’s a-thinkin’, you’s -all right. But the minute she finds out whar you is, then whar is you? -Dat’s what I ax you, Marse Jack?” - -Jack shook his head abstractedly. “I’m sure I don’t know, Cato,” he -said. “Where are you?” - -“You ain’ nowhar, that’s what you is. Dar was Colonel Jackson’s gal -Sue. Mumumph! Couldn’t dat gal make de beatenest waffles! An’ -didn’t she make ’em foh me for most fo’ months till I done ax her to -marry me! An’ didn’t she stop makin’ ’em right spang off? An’ didn’t -she keep on stoppin’ till I tuk up with Sophy? An’ then didn’t she -begin again? Yes, suh; it’s jes’ like I’m tellin’ you. Jes’ as long -as a woman thinks she’s got you, you ain’t nobody; and the minute she -thinks some other gal’s got you, then you’s everything. Talk to me -about love! Gals don’t know what love is. All they wants is to spite -the other gals.” - -“Well! How did you make out, Cato. Did you fix on Sue or Sophy?” - -“Now, Marse Jack, you know I ain’t a-goin’ to throw myself away on none -of them black nigger gals. I’se too light complected to do that, suh. -Besides, Sue and Sophy done disappointed me. They pointedly did, suh. -Jes’ as I was a-makin’ up my mind to marry Mandy--Mandy is dat yaller -gal of Major Habersham’s; I done met her when you was co’ting Miss -Sally--Sue and Sophy got together and went to Massa Telfair and tole -him about it and Massa Telfair say I done got to marry one of them two -inside a week, an’ if you hadn’t done start off so sudden I reckon’s -I’d a been married and done foh befo’ now, suh. Massa Telfair’s plumb -sot in his ways, suh.” - -Jack was tired of the talk. “Oh! Well! I reckon Mandy’ll be waiting for -you when you get back,” he answered, idly. - -Cato smiled broadly. “Ain’t dat de trufe?” he chuckled, delightedly. “I -ain’t ax Mandy yit, but she ’spec’s me to. I tell you, Marse Jack, you -got to keep ’em guessin’, yes, you is, suh. Jes’ as long as you does -you got ’em.” - -Cato rung the changes on his tale with infinite variations. Jack -heard about Sue and Sophonia and Mandy from Alabama to Ohio, from the -Tallapoosa to the Miami. It was only when he reached Dayton that the -loves of his henchman were pushed into the background by more urgent -affairs. - -Dayton was alive with the war fever. Governor Hull, of Michigan, who -had been appointed a brigadier general, had started north from there -nearly a month before with thirty-five hundred volunteers and regulars -and was now one hundred miles to the north, cutting his way laboriously -through the vast forest of the Black Swamp. At last reports he had -reached Blanchard River, and had built a fort which he called Fort -Findlay. So far as Ohio knew war had not yet been declared, but news -that it had been was expected daily. The whole state awaited it in -apprehension, not from fear of the British, but from terror of their -ruthless red allies. - -Not a man or woman in all Ohio but knew what Indian warfare meant. -Not one but could remember the silent midnight attack on the sleeping -farmhouse, the blazing rooftree, the stark, gashed forms that had once -been men and women and little children, the wiping out of the labor of -years in a single hour. - -Every sight and sound of forest and of prairie mimicked the clash. The -hammering of the woodpecker was the pattering of bullets, the thump of -the beaver was the thud of the tomahawk, the scream of the fishhawk the -shriek of dying women, the scolding of the chipmunks in the long grass -the chatter of the squaws around the torture post, the red reflection -of the setting sun the gleam of blazing rooftrees. - -Ah! Yes! Ohio knew what Indian war meant. - -And Cato, for the first time, realized whither he was going. He ceased -to talk of his sweethearts and began to pray for his soul. - -At last Jack came to Piqua. Piqua stood close to the boundary of the -Indian country, which then spread over the whole northwestern quarter -of Ohio. North of it lay the great Black Swamp, through which roved -thousands of Indians, nominally peaceful, but potentially dangerous. At -Piqua, too, dwelt Colonel John Johnson, the United States Indian agent, -whose business it was to keep them quiet. - -As Jack rode into the outskirts of the tiny scattered village, a -middle-aged man with long, gray whiskers, skull cap, and buckskin -trousers came up to him. - -“Hello, stranger!” he bawled. “What’s the news?” - -Jack reined in. “Sorry, but I haven’t any,” he replied. - -“Whar you from?” - -“From Dayton and the south.” - -“Sho! Ain’t Congress declared war yet?” - -“Not that I know of. The last news from Washington was that they were -still debating.” - -“Debatin’? Well! I just reckon they are debatin’. Lord sakes, stranger, -don’t it make you sick and tired to hear a lot of full grown men -a-talkin’ and a-talkin’ like a pack of women. Just say what you got -to say and stop; that’s my motto. And here’s Congress a-talkin’ and -a-talkin’ and a-wastin’ time while the Injuns are fillin’ up with -fire-water and sharpenin’ their tomahawks and the country’s going to -the devil. Strike first, and talk afterwards, say I. But then I never -was much of one to talk. I guess livin’ in the woods makes you kinder -silent, and----” - -“What’s the news from the north?” Hopeless of a pause in the old man’s -garrulity Jack broke in. - -The old man accepted the interruption with entire good humor if not -with pleasure, and straightway started on a new discourse. “Bad, bad, -mighty bad, stranger,” he declared. “That red devil, Tecumseh, has been -a-traveling about the country but he’s back now and the Injuns are -getting ready to play thunder with everybody. Colonel Johnson says you -ought to treat ’em kind and honeyswoggle ’em all the time, but that -ain’t my way, and it ain’t the way of nobody that knows Injuns. How far -north is you aimin’ to go, stranger?” - -“To Wapakoneta, I think.” - -“Then I reckon you’ll have to see Colonel Johnson. What did you say -your name was? Mine’s Rogers--Tom Rogers.” - -Jack grinned. “I didn’t say,” he answered. “But it’s Jack Telfair.” - -“Telfair! Telfair! Seems to me I kinder remember hearin’ of somebody of -that name. But it’s mighty long ago. Let’s see, now, I wonder could it -ha’ been that fellow that we whipped for stealin’--Pshaw, no, that was -a fellow named Helden. He was----” - -“Where’ll I find Colonel Johnson,” demanded Jack, in despair. - -“Well, now, that’s mighty hard to tell. Colonel Johnson sloshes round a -whole lot. Maybe you’ll find him at John Manning’s mill up at the bend -here or maybe you’ll have to go to his place at Upper Piqua or maybe -you’ll have to go further. I reckon you didn’t stop at Stanton as you -come along, did you? Colonel Johnson’s mighty thick with Levy Martin -down there, and he’s liable to be at his house, or at Peter Felix’s -store.” - -Jack shook his head. “No, I didn’t come by Stanton.” - -By this time a number of other white men had come up. The old hunter -insisted on making Jack known to all of them. Jack heard the names of -Sam Hilliard, Job Garrard, Andrew Dye, Joshua Robbins, Daniel Cox, and -several others. All of them were anxious for news in regard to the -coming war, and all shook their heads dubiously when they heard that -Jack proposed to go further north. - -“It’s taking your life in your hands these days, youngster,” remarked -Andrew Dye, a patriarchal-looking old man. “There’s ten thousand -Injuns pretendin’ to be tame between here and Wapakoneta and the devil -only knows how many more there are north of it. Tecumseh’s sort of -civilized, but his Shawnees ain’t Tecumseh by a long shot. And them d-- -British are stirrin’ ’em up. Course you may get there all right, but -when you go trampin’ in where angels are ’fraid to, you’re mighty apt -to get turned into an angel yourself.” - -“I guess I’ve got to go,” said Jack. “I want to get somebody who knows -the country to go along with me.” - -“What’s the matter with me?” broke in Rogers. “I ain’t a-pining to lose -my scalp, but I reckon if I won’t go nobody will. And I don’t want no -big pay neither. You and me’ll agree on terms mighty easy. I can take -you anywhere. I know all the Injuns. Why! Lord! They call me----” - -Job Garrard laughed. “Yes,” he said. “Tom can take you anywhere. Tom’s -always willing to stick in. He stuck in on Judge Blank’s court down in -Dayton the other day, didn’t you, Tom? Haw! Haw! Haw!” - -A burst of laughter ran round the group. Everybody laughed indeed, -except Tom himself. “You boys think you’re blamed funny,” he tried to -interpose. - -But the others would not hear him. - -“Maybe you heard something about it as you come through Dayton, -stranger!” said Dye. “Tom tromped right into court and he heard the -judge dressin’ down two young lawyers that had got to fussin’. I reckon -Tom had been a-practicin’ at another bar, for he yells out: ‘Give it to -’em, old gimlet eyes.’ The judge stops short. ‘Who’s that?’ he asked. -Tom thinks he’s going to ask him upon the bench or something and he -steps out an’ says: ‘It’s this yer old hoss!’ The judge he looks at him -for a minute an’ then he calls the sheriff and says, ‘Sheriff, take -this old hoss out and put him in a stall and lock the stable up and see -that he don’t get stole before tomorrow mornin’.’ And the sheriff done -it, too. Haw! Haw! Haw!” - -The laughter was interrupted by the appearance of a wagon drawn by -mules and driven by a man who looked neither to the right nor to the -left. - -Rogers, glad of any change of subject, jumped forward. “Hey!” he -yelled. “What’s the news?” - -The driver paid no attention to the call. His companion on the box, -however, leaned out. “Go to h--l, you old grand-daddy long legs,” he -yelled. - -The old hunter’s leathery cheek reddened. But before he could retort a -horseman appeared in the road in front of the wagon and threw up his -hand. - -“Hold on, boys,” he called. “Hold on! I want to speak to you.” - -The driver hesitated; then, compelled by something in the eyes of the -man, he sulkily reined in. As he did so Jack and the little crowd about -him moved over to the wagon. - -“I’m Tom Rich, deputy of Colonel Johnson, the Indian agent up here,” -the horseman was explaining, peaceably. “Colonel Johnson’s away just -now and I’ve got to see everybody that goes north to trade with the -Injuns.” - -“We ain’t going to trade with no Injuns,” said the man who appeared to -be the leader. “We’re taking supplies to Fort Wayne for the Government. -I reckon you ain’t got no call to stop us.” - -“Not a bit of it, boys. Not a bit of it. Just let me see your papers -and you can go right along.” - -The man sought in his pockets and finally extracted a paper which he -passed to Rich, who scanned it carefully. “Your name’s David Wolf, is -it?” he questioned, “and your friend’s name is Henry Williams?” - -“That’s right and we ain’t got no time to waste. There ain’t no tellin’ -when war’ll be declared an’----” - -“No! There’s no telling. You can go along if you want to, but I’ve got -to warn you--warn all of you.” Rich’s eye swept the group. “We got -news this morning that there was a big council at Wapakoneta last -night. There was a British officer there in uniform and he and Tecumseh -tried to get the Shawnees to go north. Black Hoof (Catahecasa) stood -out against them, and our news is that less than two hundred braves -went. Still, there’s no telling, and the country’s dangerous. Colonel -Johnson’s at Wapakoneta now. Better wait till he gets back.” - -“Wait nothin’.” Wolf spat loudly into the road. “General Hull rushed -us here with supplies for Fort Wayne and we’re going through. If any -darned Injun gets in our way he won’t stay in it long. My pluck is to -shoot first and question after.” - -The deputy’s brow grew stern. “You’ll be very careful who you shoot and -when,” he ordered, sternly. “A single Indian murdered by a white man -might set the border in flames and turn thousands of friendly Indians -against us. I’ll let you go through, but I warn you that if you shoot -any Indians without due cause Colonel Johnson will see that you hang -for it. We’ve got the safety of hundreds of white people to consider -and we’re not going to have them endangered by any recklessness of -yours. You understand?” - -Wolf shrugged his shoulders. “I reckon so,” he muttered. - -“All right, see that you heed.” Rich turned away from the men and -greeted Jack. “And where are you bound, sir?” he asked smilingly. - -“I’m looking for Colonel Johnson,” returned Jack. “I’m looking for -a young lady who was to have been left in his care. Have you heard -anything about her.” - -“A young lady?” The deputy stared; then he laughed. “No! I’m not young -enough,” he remarked, cryptically. - -“Then, with your permission I’ll just tag along after our crusty -friends in the wagon.” - -The deputy hesitated. “I have no power to stop you,” he said. “But -you’d better wait here for Colonel Johnson.” - -“I can’t. The matter is urgent. Come, Cato! So long, boys!” Jack nodded -to the group around him, shook his bridle and cantered off after the -wagon, which had just vanished among the trees. - - - - -CHAPTER V - - -THE close of the Revolution had brought no cessation of British -intrigue along the northern frontier. The British did not believe the -confederacy of states would endure. In any event the western frontier -was uncertain; miles upon miles of territory--land enough for a dozen -principalities--lay open to whoever should first grasp it. Treaties -were mere paper; possession was everything. Colonization in western -Canada had always lagged and the British could supply no white barrier -to hold back the resistless tide that was rolling up from the south. -But this very dearth of colonists was in a way an advantage, for -it prevented the pressure on the Indians for lands that had caused -perpetual war further south. Desiring to check the Americans rather -than to advance their own lines the British, through McKee and other -agents, poured out money to win the friendship of the Indians. Arms, -ammunition, provisions, gew-gaws in abundance were always ready. In the -five years before the breaking out of the War of 1812 probably more -than half the Indians about the Great Lakes had visited one British -post or another in Canada and had come back home loaded with presents. -The policy was wise, even if not humane. When the conflict came it was -to save Canada, which without Indian aid would have been lost forever -to the British crown. - -South of Canada, within the borders of the United States, ten thousand -Indians hung in the balance, ready to be swayed by a hair. They were -friendly to the British, and they hated the Americans. But they feared -them, also--feared the men who had fought and bled and died as they -forced their way westward past all resistance. Some would go north at -the first word of war, but most would stay quiet, awaiting results. - -The first British triumph, however small, would call hundreds of them -to the British standard; a great British triumph would call them forth -in thousands. - -Tecumseh was the head and front of those Indians who favored war. -For years he had urged that the red men should unite in one great -league and should establish a line beyond which the white man must not -advance. Behind this, no foot of land was to be parted with without the -unanimous consent of all the tribes. Two long journeys had he made, -travelling swiftly, tireless as a wolf, from one tribe to another, -from Illinois to Virginia, from Florida to New York, welding all red -men into a vast confederacy that in good time would rise against the -ever-aggressive white man, crush his outposts, sweep back his lines, -and establish a great Indian empire that would hold him back forever. - -A year before he had brought his plans nearly to perfection. He had -accumulated great quantities of arms and ammunition and supplies at -the town of his brother, the Prophet, on the banks of the Wabash, and -had set out on his first long journey--a journey that was intended to -rivet fast the league his emissaries had built. But he had gotten back -to find that Harrison, the white chief, had struck in his absence, had -defeated and scattered his chosen warriors, had destroyed his town, and -had blotted out the work of three long years. - -All afternoon long, from the protection of a near-by cabin, Alagwa -watched that of Tecumseh, seeing the chiefs come and go. Simon Girty -and the man in the red coat were among them. - -When at last the sun was setting and the ridge poles of the cabin were -outlined against the swirl of rose-colored cloud that hung in the west, -Tecumseh sent for her. - -Pushing through the mantle of skins that formed the door she found the -great chief sitting cross-legged in the semi-gloom. Silently she sank -down before him and waited. - -For a long time Tecumseh smoked on in silence. At last he spoke, using -the Shawnee tongue, despite the fact that he was a master of English -and that Alagwa spoke it also, though not fluently. “Little daughter,” -he began. “For ten years you have dwelt in Tecumseh’s cabin and have -eaten at his fireside. The time has come for you to leave him and take -a trail of your own.” - -Startled, with quivering lips and tear-filled eyes, Alagwa threw -herself forward. “Why? Why? Why?” she cried. “What has Alagwa done that -Tecumseh should send her away?” - -“Alagwa has done nothing. Tecumseh does not send her away. And yet she -must go. Listen, little daughter, and I will tell you a tale. Some of -it you have heard already from the redcoat chief who spoke to you today -against my will. The rest you shall hear now. - -“Ten years ago, your father left you in my care. His name was Delaroche -Telfair, a Frenchman, a Manaouioui. He came of a great chiefs family, -from far across the water. All the chiefs of his house are now dead and -all their lands have come down to him and from him to you. If you were -dead the lands would go to another chief--the chief Brito, who spoke -to you today. Two moons ago this chief came to Tecumseh, seeking you -and speaking fair words and promising all things. He is the servant of -the British King and the ally of Tecumseh, and if Tecumseh were free to -choose, he would have let you go with him gladly. But he is not free. -Before your father died he warned Tecumseh against Brito, saying of -him all things that were evil. He told also of the other chiefs of -his house who dwelt far to the south, near the great salt water and -near the ancient home of the Shawnee people before they were driven -northward by the whites. He begged that Tecumseh should put you in the -care of these chiefs rather than in that of the chief Brito. Does my -daughter understand?” - -Alagwa bowed. “I understand, great chief,” she answered, breathlessly. - -“Therefore Tecumseh bade the chief Brito wait until he should return -from a journey. He stationed the chief Wilwiloway to watch and protect -you. For many moons he travelled. His moccasins trod the woods and -the prairies. He visited the home of his friends’ people by the far -south sea. Of them one is a young white chief, handsome and brave and -skilful, called Te-pwe (he who speaks truth) by the Shawnees. His years -are four or five more than Alagwa’s. Tecumseh saw him and gave him a -belt of black and white and told him by what trail he should come to -fetch you. The young chief took the belt and Tecumseh hoped to find him -here when he came. But he has not come.” - -Alagwa’s breast was heaving. The suggestion that she was to be sent far -south into the land of the Americans filled her with terror. She had -been trained in the stoicism of the Indian and she knew that it was -her part to obey in silence, accepting the words of the chief, but her -white blood cried out in protest. - -The chief went on. “Tecumseh has done what he can to keep his promise -to his friend. But now Tecumseh’s people call him and he must leave -all else to serve them. Tonight he holds a great council and tomorrow -he and those who follow him go north to join the redcoats and fight -against the Seventeen Fires (seventeen states). But before he goes he -must decide what to do with Alagwa. He can not take her north with him. -He can not leave her here, for that would be to give her to the chief -Brito whether he wished it or not and whether she wished it or not. Two -things only can he do. He can give her into the hands of her father’s -foe or he can send her south to meet the young white chief, who is on -his way to fetch her. Which shall he do, little daughter?” - -Alagwa sat silent. Scarcely breathing, she strove desperately to think, -to choose between the courses of action that Tecumseh had outlined, but -the throbbing of her pulses made the task difficult. In her ears was -the roaring of deep waters. - -Suddenly a flush of rage swept over her and she sprang to her feet. -“I will not! I will not!” she panted. “Am I a dog that I should go -begging to the doors of the Long Knives from the south. They are my -people’s foes and mine. I will take nothing from them. Neither will I -go north with the man whom my father hated. I can not stay here, the -great chief says? Good! I will go, but I will go to fight his foes and -mine. I am a woman and I can not travel the warpath. But surely there -is some other way for me to help? Can not the great chief lay upon me -some task? Is there not some service that I may render to him and to -the people who took me in when I was a child and who have cared for me -these many moons?” Imploringly the girl stretched out her hands. - -It was long before Tecumseh answered. But at last he nodded. “It is -just,” he said. “Your father came to the Shawnees and the Shawnees took -him in. He left you with the Shawnees, and the Shawnees have cared for -you as one of themselves. Now the Shawnees are to fight for their lands -and for the lands of their children and their children’s children. It -is right that you should help them.” - -Alagwa drew her breath sharply. “It is right,” she echoed. “Let the -white chief take my lands. I care nothing for them. My heart is not -white. It is red, red.” - -Tecumseh smiled. “Truly have the people named you Bobapanawe (Little -Lightning),” he said slowly. “And yet--Let not my daughter think that -this is a small matter. It is a very great matter. If my daughter -will----” - -“Oh! I will! I will!” Alagwa’s white blood spoke in her outcry. No -Indian woman would have interrupted a chief. - -Tecumseh did not resent the outcry. “If my daughter will, she can go -south, not as Alagwa, not as a Shawnee, but as a prisoner escaping from -captivity. As such she can get and send word of the plans and doings of -the whites to Tecumseh and the redcoats and so help the people who have -fostered her! Will my daughter do this?” - -Alagwa did not hesitate. To her all Americans were base and vile, -robbers and thieves. “I will! I will,” she cried. - -“It is well. Perhaps my daughter may meet the young chief----If she -does, let her join herself to him and follow him. He should not be far -from Wapakoneta. All Americans are robbers and murderers at heart. But -the young chief is not as bad as most of them. Alagwa can trust him.” - -But the girl shook her head stubbornly. “I will trust none of the Long -Knives,” she protested. - -Tecumseh ignored the refusal. “If you go south as a spy you can not go -as an Indian, nor even as a woman,” he said. “You must go as a white -and as a boy. So shall you pass through perils that would otherwise -overtake you. Tonight there will be a great council. Wait till it is -over. Then dress yourself from the clothes yonder”--he pointed to a -heap at the side of the cabin--“and go to the squaw Wabetha and tell -her to cut your hair and to wash the paint from your cheeks and to -dress you as a boy. Let no one see you, for your enemies keep close -watch. The chief Wilwiloway will come for you at dawn and will go with -you to the bend of the Piqua and perhaps farther. Then you must shift -for yourself. From time to time I will send a runner to bring back the -information you gain.” - -Alagwa bowed. “It is well,” she said. - -The chief slipped his hand into the braided pouch that hung at his -side and drew forth a small packet wrapped in doeskin. From it he -took a flat oval case containing the miniature of a lady with a -proud, beautiful face, a chain so finely woven that the links could -scarcely be distinguished, and a packet of gold coins whose value even -Alagwa--child of the forest though she was--well knew. All of them he -handed to the girl. - -“Your father left them,” he said. “Spend the money, but keep the -picture safe. Your father said it would prove your rights if need be. -Hang it around your neck by the chain and show it to no one till you -must. Now, farewell.” - - - - -CHAPTER VI - - -LITTLE sleep was there for any one in the Shawnee camp that night. -Hour after hour the witchdrums boomed and the leaping ghost fires -flamed to the far-off blinking stars. Hour after hour the thunderous -chanting of the braves shivered through the forest, waking the resting -birds and scaring the four-footed prowlers of the night. Hour after -hour the chiefs debated peace and war, now listening to the words of -the redcoat emissary of the British king, now hearkening to Tecumseh, -now turning ear to Catahecasa (Black Hoof) or to Wathethewela (Bright -Horn), as they spoke for peace, declaring that the British would fight -for a time and then go away, but that the Long Knives from the south -would stay forever. Hour after hour the wheeling stars, a silver dust -behind the chariot of the moon, rose, passed, and sank. Hour after hour -the mounting mists of the Black Swamp wavered and fell back, driven -away by the heat of the fires and the hot breaths of the warriors. -Dawn was breaking in the east as Tecumseh and his devoted few struck -their hatchets into the war post and left the council to prepare for -their northward venture, leaving the bulk of the Shawnees loyal to the -Seventeen Fires. - -Long before this, Alagwa had sought Wabetha, wife of Tecumseh, and had -told her the will of the great chief. In the privacy of the lodge she -had dropped her Indian garments from her one by one, till she stood -revealed in the firelight, a slender shape amazingly fair compared -to the red tints of the Indians. Wabetha, softly marvelling over the -ever-new wonder of her white beauty, had hacked at the two heavy -plaits of burnished hair till they fell like two great snakes to the -trampled clay of the floor, leaving the girl bare indeed. Then, one by -one, she had clothed her in the unfamiliar garments of the whites, the -strong calico shirt, the deerskin knee breeches, the leggings wrapped -about each slender limb and bound at the top and at the bottom with -pliant thongs, the high moccasins padded as a protection against the -snakes that infested the whole region. When the squaw placed on her -head the inevitable coonskin cap of the white hunter, it would have -taken a sharp eye to suspect the sex of this Indian-trained daughter -of the Huguenots. Straight as a fir and supple as a willow, retaining -longer than most of her sex the slender lines of childhood, she hid all -feminine curves beneath the loose garb of the woodsman. - -When, with the first peep of dawn Wilwiloway came slipping through the -rolling mists to scratch at the cabin door, she was ready, her good-bys -said. Without a word she fell in at his heels and together they took -the long trail south, the trail whose only end, so far as known to her, -would be beneath alien stars at the borders of a sea unknown. - -Wilwiloway moved cautiously. No sign of danger was visible, but he was -too well versed in the war trail not to know that the unseen danger is -ever the deadliest. Alagwa followed, also cautiously, not because she -feared, for she did not, but because she had been trained to obey the -will of the leaders. Close at Wilwiloway’s heels she trod, putting her -feet carefully into his footprints. Only once she paused, at the edge -of the clearing, and looked backward at the vast wavering draperies of -mist that hid the only home she could remember. Her eyes were dim and -her cheeks wet, not merely from the clinging fingers of the fog, as she -strove to penetrate the blanket of mist that hung before her. For a -moment she gazed, then, with a choking sob, she hurried on. - -Hour after hour the two sped southward. Neither spoke. Wilwiloway, at -his great leader’s command, was giving up the hope of his life, and was -giving it up silently and stolidly, with Indian stoicism. Alagwa was -giving up all she had known, all her friends, all the familiar scenes -of her childhood. - -And yet, after the first pang, her thoughts went forward, not backward, -ranging into the strange new world into which she was hurrying. Alagwa -was skilled in all forms of woodcraft; she could make fire where a -white man would freeze; catch game where he would starve; sleep warm -and snug where he would shiver and rack with wet and fever and ague. -She knew the forest trails, knew the rocks on which the rattlesnake -sunned and the tufts of grass beneath which the copperhead lurked, -knew the verdure that hid the quagmire, the firm-appearing ice that -splintered at a touch, the tottering tree that dealt ruin at a breath. - -But of the white man’s ways she knew almost nothing. Before her -father died he had taught her to speak French, but in the years that -had passed since then she had nearly forgotten it. From one source -or another, from Colonel Johnson and his family, from two or three -prisoners, she had learned English--enough to understand if not enough -to speak fluently. But other than this she knew nothing--except that -there was a world of things to be known. - -Much she wondered concerning the strange new life into which she was -hurrying. Her woman’s heart quaked at the dangers she must face, but -her woman’s soul, burning high with zeal to serve her people, bore her -on. If for a moment the thought that she was to play a treacherous -part, to worm her way into the Americans’ confidence in order to betray -them, came to vex her she drove it back. For years the Long Knives had -cheated her people, had lied to them, had despoiled them, had slain -them. Treaty after treaty they had made, determining boundaries which -they swore not to cross; and then, the moment they grew strong enough -to take another forward step, they had broken their pledges and had -surged forward, driving her people back. Treachery for treachery. -Against such shameless foes all things were fair. If she could requite -them some small proportion of the woe they had dealt out to her and -hers she would glory in the deed. Afterwards, if they detected her they -might slay her as they pleased--burn her at the stake if they would. -She would show them how a Shawnee could die. - -Concerning the man in the red coat she thought very little. She might -have to think of him again at some time in the future, but for the -moment he was one of the things she was leaving behind. He was an -Englishman and therefore her ally, but he was her father’s foe and -therefore hers. After she had done her duty, after these shameless -Americans had been driven back, after the hatchet had been buried in -victory for her tribe, she would consider what he had offered. For the -moment she merely wondered idly whether he had come to America really -desirous of putting her in her place across the water or whether he -had come in order to kill her and take her estates. Either alternative -seemed entirely possible to Alagwa’s Indian-trained mind. He was of her -clan and therefore bound to aid her loyally. But he was her father’s -foe and therefore was free to kill her and take her property. She would -be slow to trust him. Fortunately she did not have to trust him now. It -never once crossed the girl’s mind that Captain Count Brito might wish -to wed her rather than kill her or that by so doing he could easily get -possession of her property. Among the Indians the lover gave presents -to the father of his bride; he did not receive them with her. - -But, concerning the young chief from the south of whom Tecumseh had -spoken, she did think long and dubiously. Would she meet him among the -whites to whom she was going and would she know him if she did meet -him? Had he come to Ohio at all, or had his heart failed him as he -faced the long trail to the north? Had he, like all other Americans, -spoken with a forked tongue when he promised to come? Had he scorned -his Indian-bred cousin, as she knew his people scorned the Indians? - -And what was he like? Tecumseh had said that he was young, big, strong, -and fair-haired. Methoataske, mother of Tecumseh, had spoken--Alagwa -remembered it dimly--of a youth whom she had adopted into the Panther -clan far away to the south at the edge of the Big Sea Water--a youth -with blue eyes and yellow hair. Alagwa formed a picture in her mind. - -Then she caught herself up angrily. After all, what did it matter. -She was not going to meet this youth. Rather she would avoid him. His -people were at war with hers. He was her enemy. She would think of him -no more. - -Abruptly Wilwiloway halted, stiffening like a hunting dog. Behind him -Alagwa stopped in her tracks, poising as motionless as some wild thing -of the forest, listening to a rattling and clinking that came from the -narrow, vistaless road that stretched before her. - -In a moment Wilwiloway turned his head. “White men come in wagon,” he -said. “Squaw stop here. Wilwiloway go see.” He slipped into the bushes -and was gone. - -Alagwa, with the obedience ingrained into her since childhood, waited -where she stood, peering through the green foliage that laced across -her eyes. - -Soon a wagon drawn by two mules clattered into the field of her vision. -On the box sat a white man, driving, with a rifle across his knees. -Beside the wagon walked another white man, with a rifle in the hollow -of his arm. A little behind rode two other men; one, marvel of marvels, -was neither red nor white, but black; the other--Alagwa caught her -breath--was young and big and fair-haired. - -Abruptly she saw Wilwiloway step into the road and throw up his hand. -“Peace,” he called. The young man on horseback behind threw up his -right palm in answer. “Peace,” he answered, in the Shawnee tongue, -smilingly. - -But as he spoke Alagwa saw the white man on the box throw up his rifle -with a meaning not to be mistaken. His action swept away her Indian -training in a breath and she sprang forward with a shriek of warning. - -Too late! The rifle spoke and Wilwiloway reeled backward, clutching at -the air. Against a tree trunk he fell and held himself up, a dark stain -widening swiftly upon the white of his shirt. - -Alagwa saw red. Wilwiloway was her friend; all her life she had known -him; he had loved her; he was being foully murdered. With a scream she -snatched her hunting knife from her belt and dashed to his aid. - -The man in the road saw her coming and fired. Alagwa knew that he had -fired at her, but she did not mind. What she did mind was that she had -stumbled on something, stumbled so violently that the shock sent her -staggering backward. As she reeled, she saw the young man on the horse -spurring forward. - -Wilwiloway was still clinging to the tree. He saw the girl totter and -the sight seemed to give him strength. With a yell of fury he leaped -upon the man in the road, tore from his hands the yet smoking rifle, -and struck with it once--a mighty blow that sent the man crashing to -the ground, a crimson furrow across his shattered skull. - -Wilwiloway did not pause. Over the dead form of his enemy he sprang, -leaping upward at the man on the box, to meet a crashing blow that -hurled him backward and downward into the dust of the road. - -With a whoop the man on the box sprang to the ground, knife in hand. An -instant later he was up, waving a bloody trophy. He saw the girl still -clutching at the air and rushed toward her. - -Alagwa saw it all. Wilwiloway was dead, and she was at the mercy of her -enemies. She could not even move; her legs had grown strangely heavy. -But her spirit rose indomitably. Forgotten was her white ancestry; once -more she was an Indian, trained in Indian ideals. Steadily she drew -herself up, folded her arms across her breast, and stared unflinchingly -at the coming death. She would show them how a Shawnee could die. -Deliberately she began to sing the Shawnee death chant: - - Behold, the water covers now our feet: - Rivers must we cross; deep waters must we pass. - Oh Kawas, hear: To thee we call. Oh come and aid us. - Help us through the stream to pass and forward go. - - Here is the place we seek; here is our journey’s end. - Here have we come; here is our journey’s end. - -Her sight was failing, but she sang on. Dimly she saw the white man -with the hunting knife and behind him the young white chief on his -horse coming like a thunderbolt. She did not heed them. Round her cool -green waves were rising; the forest was stretching out its arms to -pillow her. - -Then came a shock. The young white chief had driven his horse against -the man on the ground, hurling him backward. “Stop! you d--d butcher,” -he yelled. “Don’t you see it’s a white boy!” He leaped from his horse -and caught the girl as she fell. - -The touch roused Alagwa to sudden blind terror and she began to -struggle furiously, striking with soft, harmless hands. Then abruptly -a voice sounded in her ear--a voice gentle yet strong, whimsical yet -comforting. - -“It’s all right, youngster,” it said. “It’s all right. Nobody’s going -to hurt you. We’re white men--friends! friends! There now, boy, be -still!” - -The girl’s eyes lifted to the face that hung above her. Feverishly -they roved over the broad brow, the fair curling hair, the whimsical -blue eyes, the smiling yet pitiful mouth. As she read their message -terror slipped from her, her strained limbs relaxed, a sense of peace -and safety came over her, and she drifted away on a sea of blessed -unconsciousness. - -[Illustration: ALAGWA, BEING WOUNDED, IS RESCUED BY JACK TELFAIR] - - - - -CHAPTER VII - - -SLOWLY the girl came back to life. Even after she regained -consciousness she lay with closed eyelids, conscious only of a dull -pain that throbbed up and down her right leg. When at last she opened -her eyes she found herself lying upon her back, staring upward at a -canvas top that arched above her. At her feet, she could see a mass of -tree trunks and interlaced branches, beyond which gleamed a speck of -blue sky. Weakly she turned her head to right and to left, and saw that -she was lying on a rough bed in a wagon that was piled high with boxes -and bales. Wonderingly she stared, not understanding. - -Suddenly memory returned. The canvas top dissolved before her eyes. -Once more she saw the plodding mules, the white men on box and ground, -the smoking rifles, the brief combat, the fall of Wilwiloway. A spasm -of fury swept over her, shaking her with its intensity. Her teeth -ground together; her fingers clinched until the nails bit into the soft -palms. - -Wilwiloway was dead! Wilwiloway, the kind, the brave, the generous, -was dead, foully and treacherously murdered by the white men who had -despoiled her people and had driven them step by step backward from -the Ohio to the great lake. For years she had bees taught to hate the -whites, to believe them robbers and murderers. And now she had the -proof! - -Oh! How she hated them! How she hated them! If the chance ever came she -would take a revenge that would make the blood run cold. - -If the chance ever came! The thought brought her back to her -surroundings. What was she doing in this wagon? Who had put her there? -What were they going to do with her? Cautiously she raised her head. No -one seemed to be near. Perhaps she could escape! - -With an effort she tried to raise herself, but the motion sent the -blood rushing to her brain and woke the dull pain in her leg to a -sudden swift agony that made her drop back, half-fainting. Setting her -teeth against the pain she put down her hand and found that the legging -had been removed from her right leg and that the limb itself had been -bandaged halfway below the knee. She felt for her hunting knife and -found it gone! Despair rushed over her and she threw her hands to her -face, trying to choke back the dry sobs that shook her. - -As she lay, overwhelmed, a dry branch cracked outside the wagon and a -blustering voice broke the silence. Alagwa did not understand half the -words, but she caught the purport. - -“Here! What the h--l are you trying to do,” demanded the voice. “Gimme -back that rifle.” - -For a moment silence reigned. Then another voice--a voice cool and -deliberate--made answer. Alagwa had heard that voice only once, but she -knew it instantly for that of the young white chief who had comforted -her just before she sank into unconsciousness. - -“No!” he said. “I won’t give it back to you. You are under arrest. You -have committed a brutal murder which may rouse all the friendly Indians -against us and may cost the lives of hundreds of white men, women, and -children. If your errand were not so urgent I’d take you back to Piqua -and turn you over to Colonel Johnson. But the men at Fort Wayne need -your ammunition. So I’m going to take you to Girty’s Town and if I -don’t find Colonel Johnson there I’ll leave word for him and take you -on to Fort Wayne and turn you over to the authorities there to be dealt -with according to law.” - -The man laughed scornfully. “You think you’re right much of a much, -don’t you?” he sneered. “Take me to Fort Wayne, will you? All right! -That’s where I’m bound for. But if you reckon anybody there’s going -to do anything about my shootin’ an Injun, you’re all-fired wrong. Do -anything? Lord! Yes! They’ll do somethin’. They’ll give me a prize.” - -“All right! They’ll do as they please. I’m going to do my part. Now, -hand over that knife in your belt.” - -The man laughed scornfully. “I’ll see you d--d first,” he gritted. - -“Oh! no! You won’t. Pass it over. Quick, now.” The voice was chill and -definitive. Then came a pause. Alagwa could imagine the two men facing -each other in the brief mental struggle that would break the nerve of -one of them forever. At last came the other man’s voice, still surly -but with all the backbone gone out of it. “Take it, d--n you,” he -growled. - -“Very well! Now listen. We’ve got to go through Girty’s Town, where -we’ll probably meet the friends of the Shawnee you murdered. If I told -them the truth you’d never get through alive. So I’m going to lie for -you. I’m going to throw all the blame on your dead friend. Understand?” - -The man muttered something that Alagwa could not hear. - -But the answer came quick. “That’ll do!” ordered the chill young voice. -“You’re a prisoner. You don’t give advice, you obey orders. You’ll do -as I say till we get to Fort Wayne and you’ll do it quick. Moreover, I -don’t propose to carry you as a passenger. You’ll do your work right -along. Now climb on that box and start.” - -The man snarled, but climbed upon the box. Alagwa felt the wagon sway -to his weight. She felt that he was looking at her through the narrow -half-circle in the canvas-closed front, and she closed her eyes. The -next instant she heard his voice: - -“What you going to do with this d-- half-breed?” he demanded. - -“Half-breed! That boy’s as white as you--and whiter. You keep away from -him or you’ll reckon with me. Understand?” - -“Well! I ain’t hurtin’ him none, am I?” The man gathered up the reins. -“You don’t need be so durned cantankerous. I just asked what you was -going to do with him.” - -“I’m going to take him to Girty’s Town and see if I can find his -friends. If I can’t find them I’ll take him on to Fort Wayne.” - -“Humph!” The man lashed the unoffending mules with his whip. “Git up -there!” he ordered. Then he spoke over his shoulder. “All right,” he -said. “You’ll do as you want, I reckon. If I had the say I’d kick him -out durned quick. An’ I’m tellin’ you you’ll be blamed sorry before -you git shut of him. Breed or no breed, he’s been brought up among the -Injuns or I ain’t no judge, an’ he’ll never be no good. Them Injun-bred -boys never are. He’ll turn on you like a snake in the grass. You hear -me.” - -With a jerk and a jolt the wagon rolled off. The motion sent little -thrills of pain through the girl’s bullet-pierced leg, but the turmoil -in her mind prevented her heeding them. Desperately she tried to -control her thoughts. First, her disguise had held good. The white men -thought she was a boy. Well and good; that was what she wanted them to -think. - -If they had not found her out when she was unconscious and at their -mercy, they would probably not do so soon. Her entry among them had not -been auspicious, but at least it had been made--and made in a way that -banished the last shred of hesitation from her heart. They were all -robbers and murderers; gladly would she slay them all. - -But how was she to do it? Tecumseh had told her that runners would come -to her from time to time to get any information she might have. But who -were these runners; Tecumseh had not told her; Wilwiloway had not told -her. Perhaps the latter had meant to do so, but had waited until it was -too late. Perhaps, after all, it was not necessary that she should know -them; they would know her and would come to her. - -But could they find her? Surely Tecumseh had contemplated no such -occurrence as that which had taken place. Her trail would be broken; -the runners might not find her; her mission would be a failure. She -must watch and wait and snatch at any chance to send tidings. - -But what were the white men going to do with her? Evidently they were -divided in opinion. One of them--the man on the box, the man who had -murdered Wilwiloway--would have slain and scalped her if he had not -been prevented; he still hated her and would maltreat her if he dared. -The other, the young white chief with the blue eyes--Alagwa wondered -whether he could be her kinsman from the far south--wished her well. He -had protected her. Passionate gratitude rose in the girl’s heart, but -she choked it back. He belonged to the hated white race; and she--her -skin might be white, but her heart was red, red, red! - -A thudding of hoofs in the dust came from behind the wagon and a horse -thrust his head beneath the arched top. Behind it appeared the face of -the young white chief, peering into the shadowy depths of the wagon. -From behind the veil of her long lashes Alagwa watched him. - -A moment later he drew back, but his voice came distinctly to the -girl’s ears. “He hasn’t moved, Cato,” he said. “I don’t wonder. Poor -little devil! He must have lost half the blood in his little body. I -wonder who in thunder he is? He’s no half-breed, I’ll warrant.” - -“Ha’f-breed? Ha’f-breed? You mean ha’f-Injun, Mars’ Jack? No, suh, he -ain’t no ha’f-breed, he ain’t. He’s quality, sure. He’s got de littlest -hands and feet I ever see’d on a man. He ain’t no half-strainer, he -ain’t.” Words, accent, and intonation were all strange to the girl; -she understood only that the man was speaking of her and that his tones -were friendly. - -The other’s answer came promptly. “Oh! Yes! He’s of good stock, all -right,” he said. “But confound it, who _is_ he? And where in thunder -did he come from? Was he with that Indian or was he trying to get away -from him? And what in thunder did he come bounding out of those bushes -for just in time to stop a bullet? I wish he’d wake up and tell us -about himself.” - -Cato’s voice came again. “He sure do look mighty white, Mars’ Jack,” he -commented. “You reckon he gwine die?” - -“Die nothing! The wound isn’t anything. But he’s lost a lot of blood -and he’s got to be looked after. Confound it! It’s bad enough to have -to take charge of this wagon without having to look out for a fool boy -into the bargain.” - -A fool boy! Indignation swelled in the girl’s bosom. A fool boy, -indeed. What right had he---- - -But the voice went on and she listened. “Confound those infernal fools -that had to go shooting down an Indian just because he was an Indian.” - -Cato’s reply came slowly. “You sure dat Injun gem’man didn’t mean no -harm, Mars’ Jack?” he questioned, doubtfully. - -“Mean any harm! Why, he had made the peace sign and had dropped his -rifle. It was sheer murder to shoot him, and I’m mighty glad he took -his vengeance before he died. But I’ll have the dickens and all of a -time explaining to the chiefs at Girty’s Town.” - -“Girty’s Town! Whar dat, Mars’ Jack?” - -“That’s a Shawnee village just ahead here. There’s no way around it and -we’ve got to go through it.” - -“You--you gwine drive right through without stoppin’, Mars’ Jack, ain’t -you, suh?” - -“No! I’m going to report what has happened. I’ve got to set things -right. The Indians about here are supposed to be friendly and I’ve got -to do what I can to keep them so. War hasn’t begun yet, and anyway, I’m -here on invitation from Tecumseh himself.” - -Cato’s teeth began to chatter. “You--you ain’t gwine into dat Injun -village and tell ’em about what done happen, is you, Mars’ Jack?” he -faltered. - -“Certainly I am. I’ve got to see that this ammunition gets through -safely to Fort Wayne, haven’t I? Our men will need it soon. I don’t -want to go there. I want to go to Wapakoneta and get Miss Estelle. But -I’ve got to go. So the best I can do is to see Colonel Johnson, or send -him word about this business and send Tecumseh word that I’m coming -back as quick as I can to redeem my promise.” - -Alagwa understood not more than half of what she heard, but she -gathered its purport. Jack’s last words settled his identity once for -all. Beyond a doubt he was the young white chief from the south. She -understood, too, that he had had no part in the killing of Wilwiloway -and that he was glad that the murderer had been punished. A soft -comfort stole into the girl’s heart as she realized that she would -have no blood feud against him. She had only to call to him and to -show him the trinkets that Tecumseh had given her, and all would be -well. Impulsively she opened her mouth to speak; then closed it again. -What was she doing? Had she forgotten her mission? Had she forgotten -the slaying of Wilwiloway? Was his murderer to go unpunished? No! A -thousand times! No! - -Jack’s voice broke in on her thoughts. “There’s Girty’s Town just -ahead,” he remarked. “See that your scalp is tight on your head, Cato.” - -Girty’s Town! The words struck the girl like a blow. For the first -time she realized that the wagon was taking her, not toward Piqua, not -toward the camps of the white men for which she had set out, but away -from them, back toward Girty’s Town and the St. Marys river. Often had -she visited Girty’s Town and well she knew all the two score Shawnees -who dwelt within it. Her revenge was ready to her hand; in a moment she -would be in the midst of the warriors; then she would have only to -rise in her place and call to them that Wilwiloway had been murdered, -foully and treacherously, and that she herself had been shot by the man -on the box, and they would hurl themselves upon him and drag him down. -Her blood ran hot at the thought. - -Then suddenly it cooled. The young white chief would not stand tamely -by while his prisoner was killed. He would fight! He would fight hard. -He would kill many of her people. But he would be pulled down at last -and--and--No! Not that! Not that! Her revenge must wait. - -Besides, Tecumseh had not sent her south to fight but to spy. If she -called for vengeance on the murderer of Wilwiloway she betrayed herself -and wrecked her mission. No! she must wait. There would be other -chances. - -But her friends in the village would know her! What would she say to -them? Abruptly she remembered the saving grace of her costume. All the -Indians knew her as a girl with painted cheeks, fillet-bound forehead, -and long braids of hair. Not one had seen her in shirt and breeches -with clean-washed cheeks and short hair that curled upon her forehead. -In such a guise perhaps even their sharp eyes might fail to recognize -her. - -The road grew smoother and she realized that the wagon was within the -village. A moment later it halted and the pad of running feet and the -murmur of voices arose about it. Jack’s voice arose, telling of what -had happened and expressing his regret, but presenting the facts so as -to screen the living murderer and lay the blame on the dead man. - -A small hole in the canvas cover of the wagon was close to her face. -She glanced toward the man on the box and saw that he was cowering -back, listening with strained ears to Jack’s words and paying no -attention to her movements. Gingerly she moved till her eye was at the -hole. - -“I know not the name of the dead chief,” Jack finished. “But I saw -upon his breast a token like to that upon my own.” He tore open his -shirt and disclosed a mark, at sight of which a chorus of gutteral -exclamations arose. “Great is my grief,” he went on, “that the chief -is slain. He, however, took vengeance before he died. He killed the -man who killed him. I go now to Fort Wayne in the service of the Great -White Father. In three days I will return to speak more fully of this -before the white chief, Colonel Johnson.” - -For a moment there was silence, then an Indian--Alagwa knew him as -Blue Jacket, friend of the whites--stepped forward. “My brother speaks -well,” he said. “Far be it from me to doubt my brother’s word. But some -of my tribe have dug up the hatchet. If my brother goes now, perhaps -the white men will say that the rest of us are snakes in the grass and -that we lay in wait for the white man and slew him. Perchance they may -descend upon our village in wrath and may drive our young men to take -the warpath. Will not my brother stay and speak with a straight tongue -to our father, Colonel Johnson?” - -Jack shook his head. “I can not stay,” he answered. “I must hurry to -Fort Wayne. The Seventeen Fires command it. But I will leave a letter -for Colonel Johnson. I will tell him that your hearts are good. If you -will take it to him all will be well.” - -The chief grunted with approval. “My brother speaks well,” he said. “We -will send the letter to Colonel Johnson, who is even now at Wapakoneta. -Some of my young men shall bring in the bodies for him to see.” - -Jack took a notebook from his pocket and wrote an account of the -tragedy of the morning on two of its pages. These he tore out and -handed to Blue Jacket. “This will make all safe!” he said. - -The chief took it with grave thanks. “All shall be as my brother says,” -he promised. - -Jack nodded. “It is well,” he said. “Now one other thing I would ask. -I come hither at the request of Tecumseh, to take council with him -concerning a great matter. Will you bear him word that I am called away -on duty but will return in five days.” - -The chief shook his head. “I can not. Tecumseh has gone north with -many braves. Already he is far away!” - -“Humph!” Jack’s face fell. He had counted on finding Tecumseh and -receiving the girl from his hands. Just what to do he did not know. If -Tecumseh had gone north to join the British, war must be even nearer at -hand than he had supposed. Perhaps it had already begun. Whether it had -or not his first duty was to the country; he must make sure that the -ammunition reached Fort Wayne safely; all private affairs must wait on -that! Yet his anxiety as to the girl was growing fast. - -“Let my brother listen,” he said. “A month ago a runner from Tecumseh -came to me where I dwelt far away on the big sea water to the south. -He sent me this belt”--Jack held out the belt--“and he called upon me -as a member of the Panther clan, raised up by his mother, Methoataske, -to come to Wapakoneta and receive there at his hands a white maiden, -Alagwa by name, a kinswoman of my own, who had dwelt in his lodge since -the death of her father, the chief Delaroche. Knows my brother of this -maiden?” - -Blue Jacket bowed. “I know her,” he said. - -Jack resumed. “For her I come,” he said. “But I find Tecumseh gone. -Know you where he has placed the maiden?” - -Blue Jacket did not answer at once. Apparently he was turning the -matter over in his mind. Through the hole in the canvas Alagwa watched -him narrowly, hanging on his words quite as anxiously as did Jack. At -last he beckoned a boy to his side and gave him instructions in a low -voice. Then he turned to Jack. - -“The maiden was at Wapakoneta in Tecumseh’s lodge yesterday,” he said. -“I would say that she was there still but that another white chief--a -chief from the north wearing a red coat--came to me an hour ago from -Wapakoneta asking tidings of her.” - -“A white chief? In a red coat?” Jack gasped. The redcoat officer could -be only Brito, but that he should dare to come down from Canada in the -existing state of international affairs took Jack’s breath away. “Did -he find her?” he asked. “Where is he?” - -“He has not found her. He is still here. I have sent for him.” Blue -jacket pointed. “He comes!” he finished. - -Advancing through the Indian village came a big man in the uniform of a -British officer. Alagwa recognized him instantly as he who had claimed -kinship with her only the day before. Easily and gracefully he strode -along the path toward the wagon. As he drew near his eyes singled out -Jack. - -“Ah!” he said, halting. “You have news of the girl, fellow? Let me have -it at once!” - -Jack flushed hotly. He was young--not half the age of the man who was -addressing him--and he lacked the easy assurance that the other had -gained by years of experience in the great world. Bitterly he resented -Captain Brito’s tones, but he tried to keep himself in check. He must -uphold the blood of the American Telfairs but he must not play the boor -before this fashionable cousin of his. - -“Your pardon, sir!” he said, deliberately, “but to whom have I the -honor of speaking.” In his voice was an uncontrollable catch, born of -excitement. - -Captain Brito stared. “Well! I’m d--d,” he exclaimed, laughing shortly. -“If the fellow doesn’t take himself seriously! Come! My good man; I -haven’t time for nonsense. Where is the girl?” - -Jack met his eyes squarely. His agitation was dying away and his -nerves were momently steadying. “First, you will please to answer my -question,” he said. “Who are you?” - -A snarl curled Captain Brito’s lips, and his breath quickened a -little. “Damnation!” he began. Then he caught himself up. Jack’s eyes -were chill, and the captain apparently decided that compliance would -quickest gain his ends. - -“I am Captain Count Telfair,” he said, “of His Majesty’s Forty-First -Foot. Now, sir, your news!” He drew out a purse. “You will be well paid -for it,” he finished contemptuously. - -Jack paid no attention to the last words. His flush had faded and his -cheeks were very white. “I am Jaqueline Telfair, of Alabama,” he said, -deliberately; “and I demand to know the errand that brings a British -officer into American territory at this time.” - -Captain Brito’s eyes widened with astonishment. “Well! I’m cursed,” -he gasped. Then, with a sudden change of tone, he went on: “Can it be -possible that I have chanced upon my American cousin? Yes! Yes! Now -that you tell me, I do see the family features. We have ever run close -to type, we Telfairs; even in America”--Captain Brito grunted--“you -have kept the likeness. I’m glad to meet you, cousin!” He held out his -hand. - -Jack took it. But his face did not lighten. “And I you,” he said -courteously, but not enthusiastically. “As a kinsman I am glad to -welcome you to America. But as an American I am obliged to repeat my -question. What are you, a British officer, doing here in Ohio?” - -Captain Brito shrugged his shoulders. “Egad!” he said. “You are”--he -paused; a startled expression came upon his face. “Has war been -declared?” he demanded, eagerly. - -“Not that I know of!” Jack spoke coldly. “If it had been, I should be -compelled to arrest you out of hand, cousin or no cousin.” Captain -Brito laughed shortly, but Jack did not pause. “But it is well known -that British emissaries are in this country trying to stir up the -Indians to war against the whites. If you are one of those devils----” - -“You would feel it your duty to arrest me. Egad! Mr. Jaqueline Telfair, -paragon of all the virtues, I almost wish I were one of those patriotic -and self-sacrificing servants of His Majesty, so as to put your fine -ideas of duty to the test. Unfortunately, I can claim no such honor. I -am here on a private matter--By God!” Captain Brito broke off, staring. - -“Well, sir!” - -“Of course!” Captain Brito began to laugh softly. “Of course! I was a -fool not to guess sooner. You are after the girl, the heiress! Well! -Well! To think of it! You virtuous Americans seem to be as keen after -the dollar as we ‘devils of Englishmen!’” - -Jack did not even flush. He attempted no denial. “Her father, Delaroche -Telfair, hated you and your house,” he said, coldly. “He foresaw that -his daughter might inherit the French estates. At any rate he swore -that his daughter should never fall into your hands, and he warned -Tecumseh against you. Perhaps he was wrong, but that is what he did, -and both Tecumseh and I respect his wishes. At all events the girl -shall not be driven or humbugged into marriage with you if I can -prevent it. She shall have free choice after she knows who she is and -what she possesses.” - -Jack’s voice was steady and his eyes did not flinch. Uncompromisingly -he faced the elder man, and the latter stared back as determinedly and -far more fiercely. - -Physically the two men looked not unequal. Their weight was practically -the same. Captain Brito was heavier, but at least part of his weight -was fat, and his movements were slower and less springy than Jack’s. -How the two compared in strength and in endurance only actual test -could tell. - -For a moment Brito said nothing. Then, suddenly he reached out his -hand and clutched Jack by the shoulder, changing as he did so from -the languid, supercilious gentleman to a devil with snarling lips. -“Hark you! Young man,” he grated. “Estelle Telfair is to be my wife. -Understand that once for all! If you think to prevent it or to win -her for yourself, abandon your plans and go back to your home if you -love life. I am the head of the house. The estates should be mine -and I intend to have them in spite of all the Americans out of h--l. -I’ll brook no interference from a boy like you--or from any one else. -Understand?” - -Jack flung the man off with a swing that sent him staggering backward, -despite his height and weight. “That is as may be,” he said steadily. -“I accept your defiance and I am ready to go further into it with you -at any moment you desire.” He leaned forward, his blue eyes flashing. - -Captain Brito steadied himself. His breath was coming quickly. His hand -closed on the hilt of his sword till his knuckles gleamed white. Then -he shook his head. - -“Not now,” he said. “Your friends”--he glanced at the watching -Indians--“are too numerous. They are too cowardly to follow Tecumseh -northward to fight for their homes and liberty, but they are not too -cowardly to join you against a single man. Besides, I have no time to -waste on boys. Later--we will see. Remember, my warning stands.” - -Jack shrugged his shoulders. The honors, for the moment at least, -were his. “I accept your statement that you are here only on personal -business,” he said, slowly. “Therefore I let you go. But I shall send -word of your presence to Colonel Johnson and I doubt whether he will -accept such an explanation. I advise you to be gone.” - -Brito laughed. He had regained much of his coolness. “Egad!” he said. -“That’s good advice! Au revoir, cousin, au revoir--till we meet again.” -With a wave of his hand he turned and strode away. - -As he disappeared among the huts a voice struck on Jack’s ear. “Talk! -Talk! Talk!” it said. “Much palaver! And it never does no good. I been -a-listening and a-listening and you never got nowhere till he grabbed -you and you flung him off. That brought the cuss to terms mighty quick. -There ain’t nothing like a little muscle to clear up trouble. I thought -for a minute he was a-going to fight. Lord! I’d ’a liked to seen a -fight between you two. It would be----” - -“Rogers!” Jack broke in on the old man’s monologue; a solution of the -problem that was troubling him had suddenly dawned. “I’m glad to see -you. Can you do something for me?” - -“I reckon so. I told you I could guide you----” - -“All right. I’ll engage you.” Jack drew out his purse. “Here’s two -months’ pay in advance. Hunt up Colonel Johnson and tell him all you’ve -heard--about my cousin, Miss Estelle Telfair, and about this British -officer and all. Ask him to find her and care for her till I get back -from Fort Wayne. Put yourself under his orders and do just as he says. -I’ll be back in about a week.” - -The old hunter nodded. “I’ll do it,” he declared. “Money talks in Ohio -same as elsewhere. And it talks a heap eloquenter than tongues----” - -From the seat of the wagon Williams leaned forward. “Say, old man,” he -called. “I want to speak to you before you go. I can’t----” - -“Ain’t got time now. See you later.” Deliberately Rogers turned his -back and trotted away. Clearly he had not forgotten the slight that -Williams had put upon him the day before. - -Jack turned to Williams. “Go ahead,” he ordered. - -Alagwa started. Absorbed in the conversation, she had forgotten her -own situation and the pressing need that she should get word of her -movements to Tecumseh. Now abruptly she remembered. She was leaving -Girty’s Town without having been seen by any one. Clearly Jack had -forgotten her. Not once in his talk with Blue Jacket had he mentioned -her part in the tragedy of the morning. He had asked no one to identify -her. In another moment she would be gone. Her trail would be broken and -the runners from Tecumseh would be unable to pick it up. Anxiously, -she rolled back from the peep hole and half raised herself, hesitating -whether to call out. Then she stopped with a gasp. - -At the rear of the wagon, looking in, stood an Indian. How long he had -been there she did not know; but as her eyes met his he made a swift -sign for silence. - -“Tecumseh send. I follow,” he muttered, in the Shawnee tongue. “Call -like a whip-poor-will when you want.” Another moment and he was gone. - -Alagwa dropped back on her couch and closed her eyes and lay still. As -the wagon rolled away her heart was beating high. The runners had found -her. The broken trail was whole again. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - - -THE sun was visibly declining toward the west when the wagon, driven by -Williams and followed by Jack Telfair and Cato, rumbled out of Girty’s -Town and took the road down the St. Marys river. - -The road led through the Black Swamp, that great morass of water-soaked -quagmire that covered all northwestern Ohio, stretching forty miles -from north to south and one hundred and twenty miles from east to west, -from Fort Wayne to the Cuyahoga and the Western Reserve. All over it -giant trees soared heavenward, springing from sunlight-starved ground -on which no undergrowth could root. Between lay fallen limbs and -rotting tree trunks, thick water-soaked moss, and carpets of moldering -leaves, layer upon layer. No one that once crossed it ever forgot -the treacherous quicksands that hid beneath the blighted plants, the -crumbling logs half sunk in shiny pools where copperheads lay in wait, -the low-hung branches that dripped moisture to the stunted vegetation, -the clouds of venomous mosquitoes, the brilliant flies that clustered -upon the dead even before it was dead, the labyrinths of tortuous -runways. Except at midday no ray of sunlight ever penetrated the canopy -of interlaced branches that arched overhead and that, to a soaring -bird, must have looked as solid and unbroken as a grassy field. - -Underfoot the ground was spongy with standing water that moved -sluggishly, if at all, through creeks and rivers almost level with the -surface. Shallow pools, alive with water-snakes, were everywhere. - -A few roads, so-called, ran through this swamp. Mad Anthony Wayne had -chopped a way through it from Greenville to Fort Defiance, what time -he crushed the Miamis’ pride and retrieved Harmer’s and St. Clair’s -defeats. Hull and his army were even then carving another road through -it from Urbana to Detroit and disgrace and defeat. A third road, little -more than a trail, followed down the Auglaize. Across these north-south -passways ran the east-west road that Jack was following down the St. -Marys, from Girty’s Town to Fort Wayne. - -The road was not much of a road. Rather, it was an Indian trail, -broadened by white men, who had hewed down the great trees that had -stood along it, making a rutted stump-encumbered mudhole-filled -passage, through which a wagon must move slowly and perilously. Once -started along it the teamster must go on. There was no place to turn -aside and few places when it was possible to turn back. - -Jack had no thought of turning back. He was pressing forward with -feverish haste. Fort Wayne was eighty miles way--a four days’ journey -which Jack hoped to make in three. He was wild to seek his kinswoman -before it was too late. But he could not shirk his self-appointed -task. The departure of Tecumseh and his braves for the north to join -the British warned him anew that war was imminent and that ammunition -might be sorely needed in the fort. As a matter of fact war had already -been declared and couriers were speeding north, west, and south from -Washington bearing the news. One was about to find General Hull at Fort -Findlay, which he had just built in the middle of the Black Swamp. - -Throughout the long afternoon Alagwa lay quiet in the wagon, steadily -gaining her physical strength though not attaining any great degree -of mental quietude. Her brain, in fact, was whirling. Within two days -she had passed through experiences more outside her usual routine than -she had undergone in all her life before. First had come Captain Brito -with his claims of kinship and his tales of another land; then had -followed Tecumseh’s narration of the circumstances under which she had -come under his care, her appeal to be allowed to help those who had -helped her, and her assignment to duty; next had come her disguise, her -start southward, its tragic ending and her finding of the young white -chief, her kinsman; last had been the meeting of the two white men and -the illuminating discourse between them. Over all hung the memory of -the runner who was trailing her through the forest, ready to bear her -messages to Tecumseh and her friends. - -Most of all her thoughts centered on Jack and Brito. Much of -their talk she had been unable to understand, but certain parts -of it had been burnt into her consciousness. First, she had great -possessions--possessions greatly coveted by white men. Tecumseh had -said that all white men would commit any crime to get wealth; and she -had accepted his statement as a general fact not to be disputed. All -her life she had been taught to believe it. And now these two white -men, her kinsmen, had in a way confirmed it, for each clearly believed -that the other was seeking her, not for her own sake, but for what was -hers. - -Could both be right, she wondered? Could both have bad hearts and -forked tongues? She remembered that Captain Brito had not told her of -her possessions but had pretended that he had come for her as a matter -of duty. His words concerning this had been forked, and she found it -easy to believe that they would be forked concerning other things. -But the other--the young white chief! Was he false also? No doubt he -was, she decided scornfully; his clear eyes and frank brow were merely -a disguise behind which he could best gain his ends. All white men -were bad and he was no exception. She was a prisoner and she would -probably be in his company for some time to come. By the aid of her -boy’s disguise (Ah! But she was thankful for it) she would find him -out--would find that he, too, was seeking her for her wealth. Then she -could hate him as she should. - -Tired of lying prone she tried to sit up and managed to do so without -feeling the access of dizziness and pain that had attended her former -effort. She moved silently, as she had been trained to do by her life -with the Indians, and her change of position did not attract the notice -of Williams, who was driving stolidly along. Almost instantly, however, -the rear of the wagon was darkened by a horse’s head and above it she -saw the smiling blue eyes of the young chief. - -“Well, youngster!” he called, merrily. “How are you? Feeling better?” - -Color flooded the girl’s cheeks as she gazed at him. He was even -pleasanter-looking than her memory had told her. From his broad -forehead to his square, resolute chin and smiling, trustful mouth, he -was all she could have hoped. She felt her carefully nurtured distrust -melting and strove to call it back. - -“Yes,” she answered, with a sudden catch of her breath. “Yes. Better.” - -“That’s good.” Jack pushed back his hat and wiped away the perspiration -that stood upon his brow. “You are not much hurt, really,” he went -on. “The bullet cut the artery of your leg and you lost a whole lot of -blood; in fact, you were pretty nearly drained dry before I could stop -it. Except for that it didn’t do much harm, and as soon as you get back -your strength you’ll be up and about.” - -The girl nodded slowly. “You are very good,” she said. - -Jack shrugged away her comment. “I didn’t know where you were going,” -he insinuated, “or how you came to be where you were, but I couldn’t -stop, and of course I couldn’t leave you, so I just bundled you into -the wagon and brought you along. I was bound for Wapakoneta but I’ve -had to turn off to Fort Wayne instead, so that’s where we’re going. I -hope it meets your approval.” He ended with a smile. - -The girl understood that she was being questioned. She had determined -what to say and she answered quickly, in fairly good English, noticing -that Williams was listening as she spoke. “I come from Wapakoneta!” - -Jack stared. “You mean you lived there with the Indians?” - -“For many moons I have lived there. I know no other life but that.” - -“You were a prisoner?” - -“Prisoner! No! Yes! Perhaps you call it so. I think the Shawnees carry -me away from somewhere when I am a child. I have lived with them ever -since. They were good to me. I travel the long trail south with the -chief Wilwiloway when that wicked white man kill him.” - -Jack’s face darkened. “It was a brutal murder,” he said, sharply, -glancing at Williams. “It shall be punished. But what is your name? -Where do your friends live? Where do you want to go?” - -The girl shook her head. “I do not know what my name was before I -came to the Shawnees,” she answered, slowly. “The Indians call me -Bobapanawe.” - -“Bobapanawe. That means ‘lightning,’ doesn’t it?” Jack laughed. “It -suits you all right, but I’m afraid it’s too much of a mouthful. I’ll -call you Bob, if you don’t object. I suppose you don’t know anything -about your friends?” - -The girl shook her head. “I have no friends except among the Shawnees,” -she answered. “Perhaps I had better go back to them.” As she spoke -she half closed her eyes, but through her long, curling eyelashes she -watched Jack’s face. - -“Go back to the Indians! Great Scott! You can’t do that.” - -“But where then shall I go?” - -“Well----” Jack scratched his head--“we’ll have to think about that. -Maybe we’ll be able to find out something about your people when we -get to Fort Wayne.” - -The wagon had been moving slower and slower, the tired mules showing -little desire to hasten. As Jack finished speaking they stopped short, -and Williams turned around. - -“Say!” he said. “These mules are plumb wore out. We got to stop unless -you want to kill ’em.” - -Jack rode to the front of the wagon and stared ahead through the -dimming corridors of coming night. All afternoon the wagon had been -moving through a deepening gloom, and now the darkness seemed to have -shut down. One single patch of blue sky, far ahead, told where the road -came out for a moment on the bank of the river, and showed that the sun -had not yet set. - -“There seems to be an opening a couple of hundred yards ahead,” he -said. “We’ll stop there. Drive on if you can.” - -Williams cracked the whip and shouted, but the tired mules refused to -respond, until Cato came forward. - -“Dat ain’t no way to treat a mule, massa,” he said. “Lemme try what I -can do, massa, please do, suh.” - -Williams flung down the reins and jumped from the wagon to the ground. -Anger and fear had sadly frayed his temper. “Try what you d-- please,” -he growled, and walked ahead, leaving Cato to coax the mules to a -fresh effort that brought the wagon at last to the spot that Jack had -selected. - -As the wagon stopped, Jack went to the back. “Come out, youngster,” he -ordered, kindly. “It’ll do you good to stand and move about a little.” -He held out his arms as he spoke. - -But the girl shrank back. “I can get out alone,” she faltered. - -Jack grinned. “All right!” he agreed, cheerfully. “Try it if you like. -I’ll catch you if you fall.” He stood back and waited. - -Cautiously the girl clambered out and down. She reached the ground -safely, but as her weight came upon her wounded leg, she tottered and -would have fallen if Jack had not caught her and held her up, while the -swimming world spun round. - -Her pride vanished and she clung to him desperately, feeling again the -curious sense of safety that she had felt when he had held her a few -hours before. She clung fast until the rush of blood to her temples -quieted; then, as she straightened herself, she heard Jack’s voice. - -“Bravo!” he cried. “You’re doing fine. Just a step or two--a step or -two. There! That’s it.” She felt herself lowered to a seat upon a great -limestone boulder that protruded from the mold close against a big -tree. “How does your wound feel now?” - -“Good!” The girl stretched her leg cautiously. - -“I guess I’d better not disturb the dressings tonight,” went on the -boy, doubtfully. “I did the best I could this morning, and it would -probably do more harm than good to fool with them. What do you think.” - -“Wound does very well.” Not for worlds would Alagwa have submitted it -to his inspection. - -Jack slipped away and the girl leaned back against the tree and looked -about her curiously. The outer world, dark as it was with the shadows -of coming night, looked good to her after the long hours she had spent -in the gloom of the wagon. Fresh blood was filling her veins and her -spirits were reviving. She had not forgotten Wilwiloway and his cruel -murder, but her memory had been blurred both by weakness and by the -rush of new sensations. - -The spot, though by no means ideal for a camp, was probably the best -that the region afforded. It was on a low ridge or dune of sand, -part of an ancient beach heaped up when Lake Erie spread far beyond -its modern bounds. It stood three or four feet instead of only as -many inches above the sluggish river. On the near bank a giant oak, -undermined by the stream through uncounted years, had toppled sideways -until its branches swept the dark water. The sunlight had slipped in -along the slit made by the river and had rested on the mold, stirring -it to life. For a hundred feet or more a thick mat of pea-vines and -annis grass bordered the stream, and toward these the tired mules were -straining, even while Cato was loosening their harness. Close beneath -the leaning tree Jack was kindling a fire, small, after the Indian -fashion, but sufficient for their needs. Williams was chopping down -some bushes that had found lodgment on either side of the tree. No one -was paying any attention to Alagwa. - -Later, however, after Cato, who like most of his race was a born cook, -had prepared the supper of wild turkey and fat bacon and cornpone, Jack -glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Then he called to Cato: -“Fetch the grub over here, Cato,” he ordered, pointing to the great -boulder on which the girl sat. “This stone will do for a table.” - -Alagwa’s heart warmed. Instinctively she knew that he had chosen the -supper place for her convenience. - -Night came on while they were eating. The red tints that stretched -up from the west faded to palest gray. Closer and closer in drew the -forest till it seemed to press like a wall upon the little band, -blotting out their forms and leaving only the dim glimmer of their pale -faces. Cato’s darker skin it hid altogether. Beneath the leaning trees -the dying fire glowed like a red eye. To the south the strip of water -reflected what little light was left. - -With the closing in of the night the four grew very still, thinking -their own thoughts and dreaming their own dreams. - -Jack was pondering on his mission to Tecumseh and on his failure to -reach the Indian chief. Had he done right, he wondered, to quit his -chosen trail, especially in view of Brito Telfair’s appearance on the -scene? Could not Williams and his ammunition have reached Fort Wayne in -safety without his aid? Would Rogers be able to do anything? Suppose -he should never find this kinswoman of his? Suppose she lost her life -by reason of his delay? For a moment his turning aside looked to him -unnecessary, ridiculous, quixotic. Then he set his teeth. No! He had -done right. Fort Wayne was of enormous importance to the country; -on its holding might depend the safety of the whole northwest. The -government had been mad to send ammunition without adequate escort -through a possibly hostile country, but the madness of the government -did not excuse him from doing what he could to retrieve the blunder and -to stop the frightful consequences that might easily result from the -murder of the Shawnee. - -Williams had been moving uneasily; he had had time to meditate on his -position, and he had lost much of his confidence. Abruptly he spoke. -“Say!” he said. “Can’t we fix this thing up before we get to Fort -Wayne? ’Spose I did do wrong in shootin’ that Injun? ’Spose he did -make a peace sign? I’d didn’t know it. He jumped outer those bushes and -flung up his hand an’ I thought he was goin’ to jump us, an’ I banged -loose without stoppin’ to think. It was my fault. I’ll own up. But it’s -done an’ can’t be undone. What’s the use of stirrin’ things up?” - -Jack did not answer for a time. At last he spoke slowly, with the -uncompromising severity of youth. “You committed a wanton murder,” he -said, “a murder that caused the death of two men. It may be that you -will get off scot free, considering the state of affairs. I rather -think you will. But if you do, I tell you frankly it will be by no aid -of mine. Now, you and Cato had better lie down and get some sleep. It’s -late and we must start early tomorrow. I’ll keep watch.” - -Williams obeyed promptly, though surlily, slouching off to his blanket -beneath the great leaning tree. - -Alagwa stared after him. “Will you not tie him?” she asked, -incredulously. - -Jack chuckled. “Not I,” he said. “If he wants to slip away in the -night, let him. It would save me some trouble. Go to bed, Cato.” - -Cato, however, demurred. “Ain’t you goin’ to let me help you watch, -Mars’ Jack?” he questioned. - -Jack looked at him and grinned. “Think you can keep awake, Cato?” he -asked. “Sure you won’t get to thinking about Mandy or Sue and go to -sleep?” - -“Now, Mars’ Jack, you knows mighty well----” - -“I know mighty well you’ll do your best, Cato. Go lie down, now. I’ll -call you at midnight and let you keep the midwatch.” - -When Cato had bedded himself down not far from Williams, Jack turned to -Alagwa. “Are you ready for bed, youngster?” he asked. “If you’re not -too sleepy, I’d like to ask you a few questions.” - -Alagwa’s heart fluttered. What did he want, this wonderful white man, -this stranger who was yet a kinsman, this enemy with the friendly blue -eyes? “I am not sleepy,” she faltered. - -“I won’t keep you up long. You know Tecumseh, of course?” - -Somehow the girl felt disappointed. “Yes,” she said. “I know him.” - -“Then,” Jack hesitated, “do you know a white girl that has grown up in -his lodge--a girl a little older than yourself, I reckon. Her father -died and left her with him about ten years ago. Do you know her?” - -What possessed Alagwa, she never knew. Perhaps it was merely the -eternal feminine instinct to mislead the male. Almost without -hesitation she answered. “Yes,” she said, slowly. “I have see her, but -men do not associate with squaws. I see her little.” - -“What does she look like?” - -The girl shrugged her shoulders. “She is dark, very dark, darker than -the Indians,” she said. “She has black eyes and square face. I not know -she is white till some one tell me. She look like a Shawnee.” - -Jack’s face fell. “Oh! I say!” he exclaimed. “That’s too bad. I was -told that she was very pretty.” - -The girl’s lip curled. “You not like her unless she is pretty?” she -questioned, scornfully. - -Jack laughed. “Of course, I’ll like her whether she is pretty or not,” -he answered. “She is a cousin of mine, and I’ll like her whatever she -looks like. Do you know where she is now?” - -Alagwa hesitated. “I see her yesterday at Wapakoneta,” she answered. - -“You did! Then Tecumseh did not take her with him?” - -“No, Tecumseh took only warriors. Women do not go on the warpath. Why -do you seek her?” - -The night had grown lighter. A silvery glimmer, resting on the tops of -the trees above the river, showed that the moon was mounting. Against -the sky the nearer branches waved gently, ebony laced on silver. Stray -moonbeams spotted the lower branches. - -Jack stared at the mirror-like water for some time before he answered. -At last, quite simply, he told the story. “You see, it’s a point of -honor,” he finished. “Our branch is bound to help her branch, when -need arises, just as Indian clan-brothers must help each other--a Wolf -a Wolf, and a Panther a Panther. The Telfairs were a great house in -France in their day, and this girl has great lands there. It is my duty -to see that she comes to her own.” - -“But--but you do not seek her. You turn away and leave her.” - -“Don’t I know it?” Jack’s tones were desperate. “When I think--But I -can’t help it. There are five thousand white women and children along -this frontier whose lives might pay the forfeit if Fort Wayne should -fall. And without the ammunition in this wagon--Oh! I’ve been over the -problem again and again and there’s only one answer. I’ve got to get -this wagon to Fort Wayne first and look for the girl afterwards. As -soon as I have done that I will go back to hunt for her. Meanwhile I’ve -sent word to Colonel Johnson and I’ve commissioned Tom Rogers to help -him.” - -Feeling, strong and intense, spoke in the boy’s tones. Alagwa could not -mistake it. A sudden intense desire for his friendship possessed her. -She wanted--oh! how she wanted to be cared for by one of her blood. -“And--and what of me?” she faltered. - -“You?” The sudden turn in the talk took Jack by surprise. “You? Why? I -reckon we’ll learn something about your friends at Fort Wayne and----” - -“No! No! I have no friends.” The girl’s tones were full of tears. - -Jack put out his hand quickly. “Yes, you have, you poor little devil,” -he declared. “You’ve got one friend, anyhow. I’ll see that you’re -provided for, whatever comes!” - -Alagwa shook off his hand. “I will not stay alone in the white man’s -camp,” she protested. “They are all liars and robbers and murderers. I -hate them, hate them, hate them.” - -“Poor little chap!” Jack reached out his arms and drew the girl toward -him. For a moment she hung back, then her head dropped upon his breast -and she began to sob softly. - -Jack let her cry on. Always he had despised boys who cried, and Alagwa -was bigger than any boy he had ever seen with tears in his eyes. Yet, -somehow, he felt only pity for her. - -“Poor little chap,” he murmured again. “You’ve had an awful day of it, -haven’t you? You ought to be asleep this very moment instead of sitting -up here talking to a chump like me. Come! let me help you into the -wagon.” He rose, drawing the girl to her feet beside him. “Come,” he -repeated. - -But Alagwa held back. “You--you will not leave me at Fort Wayne?” she -begged. “You will take me with you. I--I can help you find the girl.” - -Jack started. “By Jove! So you can!” he exclaimed. “All right. We’ll -leave it so. If we don’t find your friends you shall stay with me. Now -you must go to bed and to sleep.” - - - - -CHAPTER IX - - -ALAGWA went to rest willingly enough, but for a long time she did not -sleep. She was thinking of what Jack had said about the ammunition -that he was taking to Fort Wayne and of its importance to the garrison -there. If she could destroy it or give it over to the Indians she would -have done much to carry out her pledge to Tecumseh. Carefully, she felt -the boxes on which she lay, only to find their tops nailed hard and -fast, far beyond the power of her slender fingers to loosen. - -Could she get word to the runner? She was sure he was near. Perhaps -there were others with him. Perhaps they could capture or destroy the -wagon. It would cost Jack his life; she knew that and was sorry for it, -but the fact did not make her pause. Against his life stood the lives -of dozens of her people, who would be slain by this ammunition. No! -The white men had dug up the tomahawk; and Jack and they must take the -consequences. - -But how could she get word to the runner? The camp was guarded. -Dimly, she could descry Jack’s form against the limestone boulder on -which she and he had sat and talked. Instinctively she knew that he -would not sleep, and she knew, too, that the runner was not likely -to appear unless she summoned him. And she saw no way to summon him -without betraying herself and wrecking her mission without gain. Vainly -her tired brain fluttered. At last, wearied out, she lay quiescent, -determined to watch and wait. Perhaps a chance might come. - -For hours she forced herself to lie awake. But she had not counted on -the weakness due to her loss of blood and on the insistent demand of -her nature for sleep to replenish the drain. Fight against it as she -might, sleep crept upon her, insistent, not to be denied. Heavier and -heavier grew her eyelids, and though again and again she forced them -back, in time nature would no longer be denied. - -When she waked darkness was about her. For an instant she thought she -was back in the Indian lodge at Wapakoneta. Then the patch of moonlit -sky that showed at the foot of the wagon caught her eyes and told her -the truth. - -With an effort she sat up. The hours of sleep had strengthened her -immensely. Young, pure-blooded, healthy, her system had already made -up much of the blood she had lost. New life was coursing through her -veins. Except for the soreness and stiffness in her leg she felt almost -herself again. - -From where she lay she could see moonbeams on the trees south of the -river. If she had been familiar with white man’s time she would have -said that it was about four o’clock. Cautiously she sat up and looked -out over the tail of the wagon. - -The camp was shrouded in darkness, but after a time she made out a -blanketed form stretched beneath the great slanting tree. This was -Williams, she knew. In the middle of the ground, close to where the -campfire had burned, lay another form, almost invisible against the -dark soil. To the north, toward the road, across the rock that had so -lately served her both for chair and table, sprawled a third form, -whose heavy breathing came distinctly to her ears. He was a mere blur -in the darkness, but Alagwa knew that Jack had intended to take both -the first and the last watches and to give the midwatch to Cato. She -knew, therefore, that the sentinel must be Cato. And she knew that he -was asleep. - -Sharply she drew her breath. Now was her chance to give the call of the -whip-poor-will. Almost she had framed her lips to sound it. - -Then suddenly and silently a head rose at the tail of the wagon and two -fierce eyes bored questioningly into hers. Even in the darkness she -could make out the horribly painted features. No civilized woman would -have met such a vision without screaming, but Alagwa had been well -trained. A single heart-rending start she gave, then faced the warrior. - -The latter did not delay. He said no word, but he raised his tomahawk -and swept it around the camp toward the sleeping men. A voiceless -question glittered in his eyes. - -For a single moment Alagwa’s heart stopped short; then it raced -furiously, beating with great throbs that shook her slender frame and -that to her strained consciousness seemed to echo drum-like through -the sleeping camp. Now was the chance for which she had longed. By a -single blow she might avenge Wilwiloway, might win the wagon-load of -ammunition for her people, and might weaken the ruthless enemy whom she -so hated. Now! Now! Now! Her brain thrilled with the summons. - -Abruptly the glow faded. She could not, could not, give the word to -kill. Not for all the ammunition in the land, not for the lives of -all the Shawnee braves that lived, not for victory that would endure -forever, could she give the word that would bring about the deaths -of sleeping men. Desperately she shook her head and raised her hand, -imperatively pointing to the forest. - -The runner hesitated. Again, with mute insistence, he renewed his -deadly question, and again Alagwa said him nay. At last, with a shrug -of his naked shoulders, he dropped his arm. An instant more and the -night had swallowed him up. - -Alagwa dropped back gasping. Now that the chance was gone she longed -for its return. A blaze of hate shook her--hate for the white men and -for herself. She was a traitor, a coward, a weakling, she told herself -fiercely. She had broken faith with Tecumseh. She had failed in her -duty to her people. The white blood she had inherited had betrayed -her. Oh! If she could drain it from her veins and be red, all red. -Despairingly she covered her face with her hands and her shoulders -shook. An hour slipped by and still dry sobs racked her slender body. - -Suddenly, a sound from near the great leaning tree reached her ears and -she straightened up, staring into the faint light of the coming dawn. -The sleeper beneath it had shifted his position. As she watched he sat -up, cocking his head, evidently listening to the heavy breathing of the -negro. Then he began to crawl noiselessly toward the wagon. - -Alagwa drew her breath sharply. She knew the man was Williams and -she knew why he was coming. She knew that the heavy rifle that Jack -had taken from him was in the wagon and that he was trying to regain -it. When he did regain it, what would he do? Would he not turn upon -the young chief, who was taking him to be punished for the murder of -Wilwiloway, and who had saved and befriended her. She could not doubt -it. - -She must stop him. But how? Fiercely but silently she laughed to -herself. With his own rifle she would check him. It was in the wagon, -close beside her! Powder-horn and bullet-pouch hung beside it. Jack had -left them in her care without a thought. Noiselessly she felt for the -rifle and noiselessly she drew it toward her. It was loaded, she knew. -From the powder-horn that hung beside it she primed it and thrust it -across the tail of the wagon toward the creeping man. - -As the sights fell in line upon him hate blazed up within her. He was -at her mercy now--he, the murderer of Wilwiloway. The gods had given -him into her hand. To slay him was her right and her duty. Should she -do it? Her finger curled about the trigger. A little stronger pressure -and Wilwiloway would be avenged. - -Her Indian gods, the gods of vengeance, the gods that called for the -payment of the blood debt, thundered in her ears. “Kill! Kill!” they -clamored. “Kill! Faithless daughter of the Shawnees! Kill!” Of the -Christian God she knew nothing; missionaries had not yet brought him to -Wapakoneta, though the time when they would do so was close at hand. -Steadily her finger tightened about the trigger. - -Then it relaxed. What would Jack say--Jack with the broad forehead and -the clear blue eyes? Would he approve? She knew that he would not. -Instinctively she knew it. Too well her imagination mirrored forth the -condemnation in his eyes. She did not understand the white man’s ideas -of law and justice. She had suffered too bitterly from their working; -but she knew--knew--that Jack understood them and that he would not -countenance her taking vengeance into her own hands. - -Slowly her finger relaxed its pressure. She leaned forward and gently -clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. - -The crouching man heard it and stopped short. She clicked again, and he -looked up and saw the girl’s face, white in the dawn, staring at him -over the round black eye of the rifle. With a muffled cry he sprang to -his feet, throwing out his hands as if to ward off the imminent death. - -The shot did not come, and he began to shrink back. Step by step he -moved and silently the rifle followed him. Once he paused and held out -his hands as if offering a bargain. But the rifle held inexorably and -after a time he resumed his halting retreat. - -At last he reached his blankets. Above them he paused and shook his -fist at her furiously. - -Dark as it still was, Alagwa could not mistake his gestures nor doubt -their meaning. He was swearing vengeance against her. Once more her -finger curled about the trigger. She remembered the Shawnee proverb -about the man who let a rattlesnake live. Was she letting a rattlesnake -live? - -As she hesitated, Cato grunted, groaned, and moved, and the man dropped -swiftly down. Alagwa sighed; her chance was gone, perhaps forever. - -Cato sat up, clutching at the rifle that had slipped from his grasp. -Stiffly he rose to his feet. For a moment he hesitated, then he walked -over to Jack and shook him gently. - -“It’s time to git up, Mars’ Jack,” he said. - -Jack sat up. “Why! Cato! You scoundrel!” he exclaimed. “It’s morning. -You’ve let me sleep all night.” - -Cato scratched his head hesitatingly. Then an expression of conscious -virtue dawned upon his face. “Yessah! Mars’ Jack,” he said. “You was -sleepin’ so nice I just couldn’t bear to wake you.” - -“Humph! Well! Everything seems to be all right. It’s turned out well, -Cato, but you mustn’t do it again. You haven’t heard any suspicious -noises or anything, have you?” - -The negro shook his head. “No, sah,” he declared. “Everything’s been -just as peaceful as if we was back on the Tallapoosa. You c’n trust -Cato to keep watch; dat you can, sah.” - - - - -CHAPTER X - - -THE forest was breaking. The arcades of spell-bound woods that for -three days had hemmed the road were losing their continuity, giving -place to glades choked with underbrush and dappled with sunbeams. The -chill of the swamp land was vanishing and the landscape was momently -sweetening with the fragrance of annis grass and of fern. Now and again -golden-green branches showed against a blue, cloud-flecked sky. - -Jack and Alagwa, the latter mounted on Cato’s horse, were riding behind -the wagon, chatting together and looking forward, not altogether -eagerly, to the change in surroundings which they knew must be at hand. - -The strain of the first night had for the moment exhausted the girl’s -capacity to hate. She had touched a high point and had sunk back. -When she saw that Jack and Cato were awake, reaction had overcome her -and she had sunk back on her couch in the wagon, mind and heart both -blank. When, later, she had forced herself to crawl from the wagon -to join the others in a hasty breakfast, she had done so listlessly -and silently. Still later, though she had gathered strength and vigor -with the mounting day, she had found herself incapable of thinking -of either the past or the future. Like any other wild creature that -had been driven beyond its strength, she could do nothing but exist. -When the thought of the future and of her mission rose in her mind -she deliberately forced it back. She had refused to countenance an -attack upon the wagon when it was at her mercy; never again would she -connive at its destruction. She had taken early occasion to warn Cato -that his dereliction from duty had not passed unobserved, and she had -won his eternal gratitude, to say nothing of his vows never to sleep -on watch again, by promising not to tell Jack. Apart from this, then, -was nothing for her to do until she reached Fort Wayne. Until then she -could live only for the moment. - -For the moment also she had laid aside her distrust of Jack. His heart -might be bad, but his words were pleasant, and she would enjoy them -while she could. - -Swiftly the hours sped by. Her wound was healing fast and gave her -little trouble. After the first day she found herself able to ride a -little, and on the last day she remained almost continuously in the -saddle, Jack by her side, talking the hours away. - -Infinite was her ignorance of the life which Jack and his people led -far away to the south and great was her curiosity concerning it. She -told herself that it was merely the strangeness of the life that -roused her interest. For her it could have no personal interest. That -she could ever dwell with the enemies of her people was unthinkable. -But--well, it was pleasant to hear of so many things that had been far -beyond her ken. Jack, on the other hand, found unexpected delight in -enlightening the virgin field of her mind. Again and again he laughed -at her ignorance, but his laughter was not of the kind that hurts. Long -before the third day had begun, Jack had decided that this Indian-bred -boy was the most interesting he had ever known, and Alagwa had -unconsciously decided that Jack was very different from the others of -his race. “If all white men were like him,” she thought, “there would -be no enmity between his people and mine.” The bond of sympathy between -the two was growing very strong. - -“We’ll be at Fort Wayne soon, Bob, I guess,” Jack was saying, as they -neared the edge of the forest. “I reckon it’s mean for me to wish it, -but I do hope we won’t find your friends there. I didn’t know how much -I needed a jolly little chum.” - -Alagwa caught her breath. Almost she had forgotten Fort Wayne. -Grimly her forgotten mission rose before her. When she reached the -fort--Hastily she shook her head. “The white chief will find no friends -of mine,” she declared, soberly. “I have no friends.” - -“Oh! You must have friends somewhere, you know, and I’ve got to try to -find them. I must do my best to let them know you’re alive. You may -have a father and mother, still grieving for you. But if I can’t find -them----” - -“And if you can not find them?” The girl was talking desperately, -saying anything to prevent herself from thinking of what awaited her. - -“Then I reckon I’ll have to take you back to Alabama with me when I -go--though the Lord knows when that’ll be. You’ll love Alabama, though -it’s mighty different from this Ohio country. Alabama is Shawnee--no, -it’s Creek--for ‘here-we-rest!’ The Creeks called it that because it is -so pleasant. You’ll come with me, won’t you, Bob?” - -“I?” Alagwa drew herself up. For the moment she was once more the -Shawnee maiden. “Am I a dog to live among those who hate me?” - -“Hate you!” Jack stared. “Good Lord! What are you talking about? Why! -Dad would go crazy over you. He’s the best old dad that ever lived. -Cato’s already deserted me for you. He’s your sworn slave. He thinks -you’re the spirit and image of the Telfair family. By the way, he -told me yesterday that you sure did have the Telfair nose. You may -not think that’s a compliment, but Cato meant it for one. As for the -neighbors----” - -Jack stopped short. He had just remembered that for several days he had -failed to grieve over Sally Habersham and that he had quite forgotten -that his life was blighted. An expression of gloom came over his -features. - -Alagwa noticed it, but she said nothing. She had been taught not to -force her chatter on a warrior, and her experience with white men had -been too brief to change the ingrained custom of years. Besides, she -was startled by Cato’s remark. Woman-like, she had already discovered -the strong family likeness she bore to Jack; and it had pleased rather -than troubled her. But Cato’s perception of it made her anxious. If he -noticed it, others might do so and might grow suspicious; her identity -might be detected, and if it was, her mission would fail. - -Before Jack could notice her abstraction the break in the forest -came. The trees stopped short, leaning westward as if dragged toward -the sunset by some mighty impulse, only to be held back by one yet -mightier. To north and to south the line of the forest ran interminably -away, till it blended with the long grasses that swelled to meet it. - -In front stretched the prairie, mile after mile of billowing green, -flower-studded, cobweb-sheeted, ablaze with the painted wings of -butterflies. Over it the breeze blew softly, laden with whispers, heavy -with the scent of sun-dried grass. - -With a gasp both Jack and Alagwa reined in. Then with wild whoops of -delight they shook their reins and drove their heels into their horses’ -sides and darted forward, out from behind the wagon, over the fresh -springy turf. - -As they passed, Williams, seated by Cato on the box, leaned forward and -hailed them. “We’re near Fort Wayne,” he called. “An’ there’s white -men there--none of your d--d Indian lovers. We’ll see what they’ve got -to say about your high-handed ways. And”--venomously--“we’ll see what -they’ve got to say about that half-breed boy, too.” - -Jack did not answer. He scarcely heard. All his thoughts were on the -mighty plain that stretched before him. To him, as to Alagwa, the -prairie was a revelation. All her life the girl had lived amid forests; -all her life her view had been circumscribed by the boles of massive -trees. Never had she dreamed of the vast sweep of the grassy plains. -Jack’s experience was wider, but even he had never seen the prairies. -Like two children they shouted from very rapture. Along the flat they -raced, intoxicated with the whistle of the wind, the smell of the -grass, and the thunderous drumming of their horses’ hoofs. Mile after -mile they galloped, fronting the sunset, fleeing before their own -enormously lengthening shadows. When at last they dragged their steeds -to a walk, Jack had quite forgotten his gloomy pose and was talking and -laughing as excitedly as if he were still the schoolboy he had been so -short a time before. - -Then suddenly he reined in and rose in his stirrups. The road, curving -to the north around a great grassy swell, had come out upon a level -at the far edge of which rose a great quadrilateral, with frowning -blockhouses at its alternate corners. Under its protecting walls -smaller buildings showed where the pioneers of a dauntless race were -laying deep the foundations of a mighty state. - -Smilingly he turned to Alagwa. “There’s our destination! We’ll stay -there tonight and tomorrow I’ll start back. You’ll be too tired to go, -of course.” - -Startled, the girl looked up. But her face cleared as she saw that Jack -was smiling and guessed that he was mocking her. - -Rapidly the quadrilateral swelled out of the plain. A great gate, -midway of its southern side, stood invitingly open and toward this the -travellers directed their way. A sentry stared at them curiously as -they passed in but did not challenge or stop them. - -Just inside the gate Jack reined in, looking for a moment at the -unfamiliar scene. On the parade ground that occupied the square -interior of the fort a company of forty soldiers was drilling under -command of a heavy man, rotund and stout. At the left, in the shade of -the walls, stood a group of men and boys, some of them white but most -of them Indian. - -Some one called out and the members of the group turned from watching -the drill and stared at the newcomers. The captain of the company, too, -was plainly curious, for he turned his men over to a sub-officer and -crossed to join the rest. He bore himself with an air of authority that -bespoke him the commander of the fort. - -Jack rode up to him and reined in, sweeping off his hat with a -boyish flourish. “Good evening, sir!” he cried. “Have I the honor of -addressing Captain Rhea?” - -The officer shook his head. His face was flushed and the veins on his -forehead were swollen. Obviously he had been drinking heavily. “Captain -Rhea is ill,” he grunted. “I’m Lieutenant Hibbs, in command. Who are -you?” - -Jack hesitated. He had not expected to find a drunken man in charge of -so important a post as Fort Wayne. Heavy drinking was not rare in those -days; rum was on every man’s table and “Brown Betty” was drunk almost -as freely by both sexes and all ages as coffee is today. The code of -the day, however, condemned men in responsible positions for drinking -more than they could carry decently. - -As Jack hesitated the officer grew angry. His flushed face grew redder. -“Speak up!” he growled. “Who are you and what do you want?” - -Jack could hesitate no longer. Lightly he leaped from his saddle, -looping the bridle over his arm and came forward. “I’m glad to meet -you, Mr. Hibbs,” he said. “I am Mr. Telfair, of Alabama, up here -on personal business. I turned aside at Girty’s Town to escort a -wagon-load of ammunition that General Hull had sent you----” - -“Ammunition!” The officer’s manner changed. He drew his breath with a -long sobbing gasp. “Ammunition. We need it bad enough. Thank God you’ve -come. General Hull sent you with it?” - -“Not exactly. He sent it by two wagoners, but one of them”--Jack -dropped his voice--“murdered an Indian and I had to arrest him and take -charge of the wagon. I----” - -“Murdered an Indian! Arrest him! Good God!” Mr. Hibbs was staring at -the wagon, which was just appearing through the gates. “Who’s that?” -he demanded. “Damnation! It’s Williams! You don’t mean you’ve arrested -Williams!” He threw up his hand. “Hey! Williams!” he shouted. “Come -here!” - -Williams jumped from the box and came forward. - -Jack did not wait. “I had to arrest him,” he declared. “I’ll be only -too glad to explain all the circumstances if I can see you privately.” -He cast a glance around the listening throng. “It seems hardly wise to -speak too freely here----” He stopped, for Mr. Hibbs had brushed by him -and had gone forward to meet the wagoner. - -“Hello! Williams!” he hiccoughed. “You back? Where’s Wolf?” - -The company that had been drilling had been dismissed and the men came -running up. Plainly they were anxious to learn what news the newcomers -might have brought. Most of them waved their hands to Williams as they -drew near, though they did not venture to break in on his talk with -their officer. - -Williams paid little attention to them. He was choking with anger. -“Wolf’s dead,” he rasped. “Killed by a dog of a Shawnee. I guess you’d -better ask that young squirt about it.” He jerked his head toward Jack. -“He’s running this expedition.” - -Mr. Hibbs’s brow darkened. He glanced at Jack doubtfully. “Did General -Hull put him in charge of the ammunition?” he asked. - -“Ammunition? What ammunition?” Williams snarled scornfully. - -“The ammunition you brought, of course.” - -“I ain’t brought no ammunition. Those durned Injun agents are always -fussing about honest traders, and I got by Colonel Johnson’s deputy at -Piqua by saying that I had ammunition. But I ain’t got a bit. I ain’t -got nothing but whiskey and trade goods. This young know-it-all, he -hears what I says to the agent, and he takes it on himself to escort -the ammunition and I lets him do it.” - -A roar of laughter went up from the crowd. Aristocrats were not popular -on the frontier and Jack was plainly an aristocrat. Besides, Williams -was a friend and the crowd was very willing to follow his lead. - -Jack flushed hotly as he realized how completely he had been humbugged. -He tried to speak, but his voice was drowned by jeers. - -Mr. Hibbs, however, neither laughed nor jeered. The failure to get -ammunition seemed to strike him hard. Furiously he swung round on Jack. - -But before he could speak Williams thrust in. “I got those things you -wanted, lieutenant,” he said. “But he’s taken charge of ’em.” He jerked -his thumb toward Jack. “Maybe he’ll give ’em to you if you go down on -your knees and ask for ’em pretty.” - -Mr. Hibbs found his voice. “What the devil does this mean?” he -demanded. “You, sir, I mean.” He glared at Jack. “I’m talking to you. -What have you got to do with this thing, anyway?” - -Jack refused to be stampeded. He was horribly abashed by the fiasco -of the ammunition, and he saw that no explanation that he could make -was likely to be well received. “I’d rather wait and go into things -privately, lieutenant,” he demurred. - -“Privately! H--l! You go ahead and be d-- quick about it!” - -Before Jack could speak a tall, thin man, who had been watching the -scene with growing disgust, stepped forward hurriedly. “I think the -young man is right, Mr. Hibbs,” he said. “It seems to me that it would -be much better to talk in private.” He turned to Jack. “I am Major -Stickney, the Indian agent here, Mr. Telfair,” he said. - -Mr. Hibbs gave him no time to say more. Furiously he turned upon him. -“It seems best to you, does it,” he yelled. “Yes, I reckon it is just -the sort of thing that would seem best to a greenhorn like you. But you -might as well understand here and now, that I’m in command here and -that you nor anybody else can tell me what to do.” He turned to Jack. -“Go on,” he roared. - -Further objection was evidently useless. Jack spoke out. “I charge -this man,” he said, pointing to Williams, “with the deliberate and -uncalled-for murder of a friendly Shawnee chief, at the moment that -he was making the peace sign. This man shot him down without any -provocation and without any warning. After he had shot him the Indian -sprang at him and at his companion, a man named Wolf, tore Wolf’s gun -from him, and brained him with it. Then he sprang at Williams, who -struck him down with his hatchet and then scalped him.” - -“Good! Good! Bully for you, Williams.” A roar of applause rose from the -soldiers. Mr. Hibbs did not check it. - -Jack hurried on. “You understand, sir,” he said, “what terrible -consequences this might have led to at this particular time. Tecumseh -has already led several hundred Shawnees north to join the British, -and the murder of a friendly chief, if it had become known in its true -aspect, might have roused the remainder of the tribe and turned ten -thousand warriors against the white settlements. I did the only thing -I could to prevent it. I placed this man under arrest and took him -to Girty’s Town, where I hoped to turn him over to Colonel Johnson. -Colonel Johnson was not there, however, and so I gave out that the -Indian had been killed by Wolf in a personal quarrel. I left a note for -Colonel Johnson explaining the true circumstances of the case. Then, -knowing your urgent need for ammunition and thinking this wagon was -loaded with it, I came on here as quickly as I could, bringing this man -as a prisoner to be dealt with as you might think fit.” - -Mr. Hibbs was rocking on his feet. Scarcely did he wait for Jack to -finish. “Shot an Injun, did he?” he burst out. “Well, it’s a d-- good -thing. I wish he’d shot a dozen of the scurvy brutes. And you’re -complaining of him, are you? How about yourself? What were you doing -while the fight was going on?” He swung round on Williams. “What was he -doing, Williams?” he asked. - -The wagoner laughed scornfully. “He warn’t doing nothing,” he sneered. -“He sat on his horse and watched the Injun kill Wolf without raisin’ -a hand to stop him. But he was mighty forward in stopping me when I -started to wipe out that half-breed boy yonder.” - -A snarl rose from the crowding men. But the reference to Alagwa served -momentarily to divert their attention. - -“That boy was with the Injun,” went on Williams; “and he come at Wolf -with a knife. Wolf shot him through the leg and he fell, and after I’d -done for the Injun I started after the cub. But this here sprig run me -down with his horse an’ took my gun away before I could get up.” - -Again the crowd snarled. “Duck him! Flog him! Hang him!” it cried. The -calls were low and tentative, but they were gaining volume. - -Mr. Hibbs made no effort to check them or to keep his men in hand. -Rather he urged them on. “Well! sir!” he demanded, truculently. “What -have you got to say?” - -Jack’s lips whitened. He was little more than a lad, and the incredible -attitude of this officer of the United States army, from whom he had -the right to expect support, confounded him. He had yet to learn, as -the country had yet to learn, that the United States army was then -officered by many men who had gotten their positions by political -influence and were totally unfitted for their work--men who were to -bring disgrace and dishonor on the American flag. - -Doggedly, Jack tried to protest. “The boy is white, lieutenant,” he -interrupted. “You’ve only to look at him to see that. For the rest, -this man is perverting the facts. He committed a wanton murder, and if -it makes the Indians rise----” - -“Let ’em rise and be d--d! Who cares whether they rise or not?” Mr. -Hibbs hesitated a moment and then went on. “We’ve just got news from -General Hull. He’s crossed into Canada and scattered the redcoats -and the red devils. We’ll have all Canada in a month. And if any of -the Injuns anywhere try to make trouble we’ll shoot ’em. And if any -white-livered curs from the east try to make trouble we’ll shoot them, -too. Wolf was a d-- sight better man than you’ll ever be.” - -Jack threw his head back and his jaw stiffened. The insults that had -been heaped upon him made his blood boil. But he remembered that Mr. -Hibbs was an officer in the army of his country and, as such, entitled -to respect. - -“Sir!” he said, almost gently. “I will not enter into comparisons or -arguments. I have done what I thought was my duty. I am an American -citizen and it is surely my duty, as it is yours, sir, to try to -prevent friends from turning into foes----” - -“My duty!” Mr. Hibbs broke in with a roar. “You’ll teach me my duty, -will you? By God! We’ll see.” He swung round. “Officer of the guard!” -he trumpeted. - -“Sir!” An officer stepped forward. - -“Call two men and take this young cub to the calaboose and flog him -well. We’ll teach him to meddle in matters that don’t concern him.” - -Flogging was common in those days. Privates in the army were flogged -for all sorts of misdeeds. - -The crowd surged forward. Beyond question its sympathies were with -Hibbs and against Jack. The note of savagery in its snarl would have -frightened most men. - -It did not frighten Jack. His blue eyes gleamed with an anger that did -not blaze--a frosty anger that froze those on whom it fell. - -“Just a moment,” he cried. “The first man that lays hand on me dies.” - -The crowd hesitated, clutching at pistols and knives. The moment was -freighted with death. - -Then, abruptly, some one pushed a rifle--Williams’s rifle--into Jack’s -hands and he heard Alagwa’s voice in his ear. “White chief kill!” she -gritted. “Sing death song. I die with him.” - -On the other side Cato pressed forward. “I’se here, Mars’ Jack,” he -quavered. “Cato’s here.” - - - - -CHAPTER XI - - -FOR a moment the crowd hung in the balance. Then Jack laughed. The -ridiculous side of the quarrel had struck him. He turned to Alagwa. -“Thank you, Bob, old chap,” he said, gratefully. “And you, too, Cato. I -won’t forget. But I reckon we won’t have to kill anybody.” - -Still holding the rifle, he turned back to the throng. “Here’s your -rifle, Williams,” he said, tossing the gun indifferently over. “Come, -old man,” he called to Alagwa. “Come, Cato!” Without a backward glance -he strode away. - -Silence almost complete followed his departure. Mr. Hibbs made no move -to renew his order; he stood still and watched the party walk away. -Plainly he was beginning to realize that he had gone too far. - -Stickney, however, with an impatient exclamation, separated himself -from the others and hurried after Jack. “You did exactly right, Mr. -Telfair,” he said, as he came up, “and I’m sorry you should have been -so outrageously treated. Captain Rhea isn’t a bad sort, but he is very -ill and Mr. Hibbs is in his place and you see what sort of a man he is. -The fiasco about the ammunition made it worse. We are practically out -of it.” - -Jack nodded and laughed a little shamefacedly. “I reckon it serves -me right,” he said. “I got the idea that I was serving the country -and I reckon I made a fool of myself. The worst of it is, I left some -very important matters of my own. However, there’s no use crying over -spilled milk. Since General Hull has been so successful----” - -“But has he?” Mr. Stickney broke in. “I hope he has. He really has -crossed into Canada. We know that much. But we don’t know any more. -Hibbs invented the rest in order to counteract the effect of his slip -in saying that we are short of ammunition. You see, there is some -little excuse for his behavior, outrageous as it was.” - -Jack nodded. “I see!” he acceded. “Well! It really doesn’t matter. I -intended to start back to Piqua tomorrow morning, anyway.” - -“Oh! We can’t let you go that quickly. I want to hear more about that -murder. I must send a report about it to Washington. You’ll give me the -details?” - -“With pleasure.” - -Major Stickney hesitated and glanced round. “The factory building is -outside the fort,” he said, “and I’d be delighted to have you stay -there with me, if it wasn’t crowded to the doors. My assistant, Captain -Wells, with his wife and their children completely fill it. But there’s -a sort of hotel here kept by a French trader, one Peter Bondie, and he -can put you up for the night. That will give us time for a talk.” - -Jack nodded. “Good!” he exclaimed. “I’ll be only too glad to stay, -especially as I want to consult you about this youngster.” He turned -toward Alagwa. “Come here, Bob,” he called. “I want you to meet Major -Stickney.” - -Alagwa was lagging behind the rest. Her brain was tingling with the -information that had just come to her ears. The fort--the great bulwark -of all northwest Indiana and Ohio--was almost out of ammunition. A -small force of her Shawnees, aided by a few redcoats, if well armed, -might take it easily. If she could only send them information! Ah! that -would be a triumph greater far than the capture of many wagons--even of -wagons actually laden with ammunition. - -She would seek the runner at once. She would not hesitate again as she -had hesitated on that unforgotten night. The men in the fort were the -sort of Americans she hated. More, they had dared to threaten the young -white chief. She had meant what she said when she offered to fight them -to the death. Gladly she would kill them all, all! - -Jack threw his arm about her shoulders and drew her to his side. “This -is the boy that Wolf shot,” he explained. “I call him Bob, because he -doesn’t know his white name, and I want him to forget he was ever an -Indian. He and I have got to be great chums already.” - -Stickney smiled. “So it seems,” he commented, eyeing Alagwa with -approval. “He certainly seems to be pretty clear grit. He stood behind -you just now like a man, even if he isn’t knee high to a grasshopper.” - -Jack glanced at Alagwa affectionately. “He’s a good one, all right,” he -declared. “Cato swears he’s quality and Cato’s a mighty good judge. I -can see it myself, for that matter. He must come from good people and -we’ve got to find them. And he’s pure grit. Williams told the truth -about his part in the fight. That’s another thing I’ll tell you about -tonight. Where did you say this Peter Bondie was to be found?” Jack -looked about him inquiringly. - -The sun was dropping lower and lower. Its rays traced fiery furrows -across the bending grass of the prairie and filled the air with golden -lights. Against it the crest of the fortress stood black, golden rimmed -at the top. Afar, the broad river gleamed silver bright beneath the -darkening sky. - -Stickney pointed ahead. “Yonder’s his store and hotel, ahead there by -the river. His wife is a Miami Indian, but she attends to the store and -you probably won’t see her at all. His sister, Madame Fantine Loire, a -widow, manages the hotel. She’s a born cook and she’ll give you meals -that you’ll remember after you are dead. I’m afraid she can’t give you -a room. Her guests just spread their blanket rolls before the fire in -the bar room and sleep there. They seem to find it very comfortable.” - -Jack nodded. “That’ll be all right,” he answered, absently. He was -peering westward, beneath his shading hand. “I think I see somebody I -know--Yes! By George! I do! It’s Tom Rogers. I reckon he’s looking for -me.” - -Rogers it was! He was approaching at a dog-trot from the direction of -the fort. When he saw that Jack had seen him he slackened his pace. - -“Talk! Talk! Talk!” he began, when he came up. “These people here sure -do knock the persimmons for talk. Back in the fort they’re buzzing like -a hive of bees. They talk so much I couldn’t hardly find out what had -happened. And what’s the use of it? There ain’t none. Go ahead and do -things is my motto. When you get to talkin’ there’s no tellin’ where -you’ll come out. Anybody might ha’ knowed it was plumb foolish to try -to talk to that man Hibbs. Everybody in this country knows him. You -can’t do nothing with him unless you smash him over the head. But I -reckon you found that out. They tell me you pulled a pistol on him. -That’s the right thing to do. Powder talks and----” - -Jack broke in. He had learned by experience that to break in was the -only way to get to speak at all when Rogers held the floor. “Did you -bring me a letter from Colonel Johnson?” he asked. “Has he found the -girl?” - -“Not yet. She’s plumb vanished. But I brung you a letter from the -Colonel.” The old man felt in his hunting shirt and drew out a packet, -which he handed to Jack. “Colonel Johnson says to me, says he----” - -Again Jack interrupted. “We’re going to Peter Bondie’s to spend the -night,” he said. “Come along with us.” - -The old hunter’s face lit up. “Say!” he exclaimed. “You ain’t never -been here before, have you? Well, you got a treat comin’! Just wait -till you see Madame Fantine and eat some of her cooking. An’ she’s a -mighty fine woman besides. Jest tell her I’ll be along later. First I -reckon I’d better go back to the fort. I’ve got some friends there, -and maybe I can smooth things down for you some. There ain’t no use in -makin’ enemies. The boys are pretty sore at you just now. But I c’n -smooth ’em down all right if I can only get a chance to put a word in -edgeways. The trouble is that people talk so blame much----” - -“All right. Come to the inn when you get ready. You’ll find us there.” - -Jack turned back to Stickney. As he did so he tore open his letter and -glanced over its contents. It was from Colonel Johnson, acknowledging -the receipt of his letter, commending his action in the matter of -Wilwiloway’s murder, and promising to do all he could to find the girl -of whom Jack was in search. “I know her well,” ended the colonel, “and -I shall be glad to look for her. She was here recently, but she has -disappeared and I rather think she may have gone north with Tecumseh. -Your best chance of finding her would probably be to go down the Maumee -and join General Hull at Detroit. As for Captain Brito Telfair, he has -disappeared and has probably gone back to Canada.” - -Jack handed the letter to Major Stickney. “This touches on the main -object of my visit to Ohio, Major,” he said, when the latter had read -it. “The girl of whom Colonel Johnson speaks is the daughter of my -kinsman, Delaroche Telfair, who came to Ohio from France in 1790 and -settled at Gallipolis. Later, he seems to have lived with the Shawnees, -probably as a trader, and when he died he left his daughter in -Tecumseh’s care.” Jack went on, explaining the circumstances that made -it necessary for him to find the girl without delay. “If you can help -me any, Major,” he finished, “I’ll be grateful.” - -“I’ll be delighted. But I’m afraid I can’t do much. I’m a greenhorn up -here, you know. But I’ll ask Captain Wells, my assistant. He’s been in -these parts all his life. He was captured by the Miamis forty years ago -and grew up with them and married a Miami woman. He’ll know if any one -does--No! By George!”--Major Stickney was growing excited--“I forgot. -Peter Bondie will know more than Wells. He and his sister were in the -party of Frenchmen that settled Gallipolis in 1790. They were recruited -in Paris and very likely they came over in the ship with your relation. -Of course neither of them is likely to know anything about the girl, -but it’s just possible that they may. Anyway, you’ll want to talk to -them. Here’s their place.” - -Major Stickney pointed to a log building, larger than most of its -neighbors, that stood not far from the bank of the river. From the -crowd of Indians and the piles of miscellaneous goods at one of its -entrances it seemed to be as much store as dwelling. - -Jack stepped forward eagerly. “Talk to them?” he echoed. “I should -think I would! This is great luck.” Jack knew that many of the French -settlers of Gallipolis had quit their first homes on the banks of the -Ohio river and had scattered through the northwest, but he had not -expected to find two of them at Fort Wayne. Perhaps his coming there -would prove to be less of a blunder than he had thought a few moments -before. So eager was he to see them that for the moment he forgot -Alagwa. - -The girl was glad to be forgotten. Her heart was throbbing painfully. -For a moment the necessity of sending word to Tecumseh about the -ammunition had been thrust into the background. To most persons the -thought of finding of people who had known their father would have -caused little emotion. To Alagwa, however, it came as a shock, the -more so from its unexpectedness. Her memories of her father were -very few, but she had secretly cherished them, grieving over their -incompleteness. Fear of betraying her identity had prevented her from -questioning Jack too closely about him; and, indeed, Jack was almost -as ignorant as she concerning the things she wished to know. But here -were a man and a woman, who had crossed the ocean with him when he was -young and vigorous. Surely they knew him well! Perhaps they had known -her mother, whom she remembered not at all. Her heart stood still -at the thought. Dully she heard Cato’s voice expounding the family -relationships to Rogers, who seemed to be for the moment dumb. “Yes, -sah!” he was saying. “Dat’s what I’m tellin’ you. Dere ain’t nobody -better’n de Telfairs in all Alabama. Dey sure is--Lord A’mighty! Who -dat?” - -Alagwa looked up and saw a little round Frenchman, almost as swarthy -as an Indian, running down the path toward them, literally smiling all -over himself. Behind him waddled an enormously fat woman, who shook -like a bowlful of jelly. - -A moment more and the man had come up. “Ah! Is it my good friend, Major -Stickney?” he burst out. “He brings me the guests, yes!” - -Stickney nodded, smilingly. “Four of them, Peter,” he said; “and one -more to come--a very special one. I commend him especially to your -sister. A man named--er--Rogers, I believe.” He grinned at the woman, -who was hurrying up. - -She grinned back at him. “Oh! La! La!” she cried. “That silent Mr. -Rogers. He will not talk. He will do nothing but eat. Mon Dieu! What is -one to do with such a man? But les autres! These other messieurs here. -They are most welcome.” - -Stickney nodded. “They start for Detroit tomorrow,” he explained, -“but before they go they want to eat some of your so-wonderful meals. -They’ve heard about them from Rogers. Ah! But that man adores you, -Madame Fantine. Besides, they’ve got a lot to ask you.” - -“To ask me, monsieur?” The French woman’s beady eyes darted inquiringly -from Stickney to Jack and back again. - -“Yes! You and our good friend Pierre.” - -“Bon! I shall answer with a gladness, but, yes, with a gladness. It -is of the most welcome that they are. They are of the nobility. With -half an eye one can see that. It will be a pleasure the most great to -entertain them.” - -As she spoke the French woman’s roving eyes rested on Alagwa’s face. -Instantly they widened with an amazement that sent the blood flooding -to the tips of the girl’s shell-like ears. Then they jumped to Jack’s -face and she gasped. - -“Of a truth, monsieur,” she went on, after an almost imperceptible -break. “It is not worth the while to prepare the dishes of la belle -France for the cochons who live hereabouts. They care for naught but -enough to fill their bellies! But you, monsieur, ah! it will be the -great pleasure to cook for you. Entrez! Entrez! Messieurs.” She stood -aside and waved her guests toward the house. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - - -THE “Maison Bondie” consisted of two square buildings of the blockhouse -type, set thirty or forty feet apart and connected by a single roof -that turned the intervening space into a commodious shed, beneath which -was a well and a rack with half a dozen basins that plainly comprised -the toilet arrangements of the hotel. Both buildings were built of -logs, roughly squared and strongly notched together at the corners. The -doorways, which opened on the covered space, were small, and the doors -themselves were massive. The windows were few and were provided with -stout inside shutters that could be swung into place and fastened at a -moment’s notice. Loopholes were so placed as to command all sides of -the building. The place looked as if built to withstand an attack, and, -in fact, had withstood more than one in its ten-years’ history. - -Back of the buildings were half a dozen wagons, each fronted by a pair -of horses or mules, which were contentedly munching corn from the heavy -troughs that had been removed from the rear and placed athwart the -tongue of the wagon. - -Yielding to Madame Fantine’s insistence the newcomers turned toward the -entrance to the hotel. But before he had taken a dozen steps Major -Stickney halted. “Hold on!” he exclaimed. “I’ve got to go in a minute. -I’ll be back tonight, Mr. Telfair--but I want to know something before -I go. Tell me, Peter, and you too, Madame Fantine, did you not come -from France to Gallipolis in 1790?” - -The Bondies stopped short. Madame Fantine’s startled eyes sprang to -Alagwa’s face, then dropped away. “But yes, Monsieur,” she cried. -“But yes! Ah! It was dreadful. The company have defraud us. They have -promised us the rich lands and the pleasant climate and the fine -country and the game most abundant. And when we come we find it is all -covered with the great forests. There is no land to grow the crops -until we cut away the trees. Figure to yourself, messieurs, was it not -the wicked thing to bring from Paris to such a spot men who know not to -cut trees?” - -Stickney nodded. “It was pretty bad,” he admitted. “There’s no doubt -about that, though the company wasn’t altogether to blame, I believe. -But what I wanted to ask was whether a gentleman, M. Delaroche Telfair, -was on your ship.” - -“M. Delaroche! You know M. Delaroche?” Madame Fantine’s eyes grew big -and the color faded from her cheeks. “But yes, monsieur, he was on -the ship. And he was with us before. We knew him well. Is it not so, -Pierre?” - -Peter Bondie nodded. “All the life we have known M. Delaroche,” he -said. “We were born on the estate of his father, the old count. Later -we have come with him to America. Ah! But he was the great man! When he -married Mademoiselle Delawar at Marietta, Fantine go to her as maid. -Later she nurse la bebée. And then Madame Telfair die, and M. Delaroche -is all, what you call, broke up. He take la bebée and he go away into -the woods and I see him never again. But I hear that he is dead and -that la bebée grows up with the Indians.” - -“She did!” Major Stickney struck in. “She was with them till the other -day. Now she has disappeared. I thought, perhaps, you might know -something of her. Mr. Telfair here has come to Ohio to find her.” - -The French woman’s beady eyes jumped to Jack’s face. “This monsieur!” -she gasped. “Is he of the family Telfair?” - -“Yes, of the American branch. His people have lived in Alabama for a -hundred years!” - -“And he seeks the Lady Estelle?” Wonder spoke in the woman’s tones. - -Stickney nodded impatiently. “Yes! Of course,” he reiterated. “The old -Count Telfair is dead and his estates all belong to the daughter of -M. Delaroche. The title descends to the English branch, to Mr. Brito -Telfair----” - -“M. Brito!” Fantine and Pierre looked at each other. “Ah! that is what -bring him to Canada,” they cried, together. - -“You knew that he was in Canada?” It was Jack who asked the question. - -Fantine answered. “But, yes, monsieur,” she said. “We have friends at -Malden that send us word. I know not then why he come, but now it is -very clear. He want to marry the Lady Estelle and get her property to -pay his debts. Ah! Le scelerat!” - -“You seem to know him?” Jack was curious. - -“Non, monsieur. I know him not. But I know of him. And I know his -house. M. Delaroche has hated it always.” - -“He warned Tecumseh against him before he died, and when Brito turned -up and asked for Miss Estelle, as he did two or three months ago, -Tecumseh put him off and sent a messenger to me asking me to come and -take charge of her. I am a member of the Panther clan of the Shawnees, -you know; Tecumseh’s mother raised me up a member when I was a boy, ten -years ago. Perhaps it was because of Delaroche that she did so. I came -on at once but when I got to Girty’s Town I found that the girl had -disappeared.” - -“And you can not find her?” Fantine’s bright eyes were darting from -Jack’s face to Alagwa’s and back again. “You have search--and you can -not find her?” - -“Well! I haven’t searched very much!” Jack laughed ruefully. “I haven’t -been able.” He went on and told of his adventures with Williams. - -Fantine listened in seeming amazement, with many exclamations and -shrugs of her mighty shoulders. When Jack tried to slur over his -picking up of the boy, as being, to his mind, not pertinent to the -subject, she broke in and insisted on hearing the tale in full. - -Alagwa listened with swimming brain. She was sure, sure, that this -fiendishly clever French woman had penetrated her sex at a glance and -that she had almost as swiftly guessed her identity with the missing -girl. Exposure stared her in the face. Her plans rocked and crashed -about her. - -In the last three days Alagwa had come to think her disguise perfect -and had built on it in many ways. By it she had hoped to carry out -her pledge to Tecumseh. With her detection her mission must fail or, -at least, be sharply circumscribed. She had known Jack for three days -only, but she was very sure that, once he knew who she was, he would -insist on taking her south with him to Alabama. She could not serve -Tecumseh in Alabama. Moreover--her heart fluttered at the thought--Jack -would no longer treat her with the same frank, free comradeship that -had grown so dear to her. She did not know how he would treat her, but -she was sure it would be different. And she did not want it to be -different. - -Desperately she sought for some way to ward off the threatened -disclosure. The French woman seemed in no haste to speak; perhaps she -might be induced to be silent. Alagwa remembered the roll of gold coins -that Tecumseh had given her. Perhaps---- - -Suddenly she remembered that this woman had been her nurse when she -was small. For the moment she had failed to realize this fact or to -guess what it might mean. Now, that she did so, hope sprang up in her -heart. If Fantine kept silence till she could speak to her alone she -would throw herself on her mercy, tell her all that she had not already -guessed, and beg for silence. Surely her old nurse might grant her that -much. She did not know, she could not know, that her wishes would be -law to one like Fantine, born on the estates of the great house from -which she was descended. - -Jack’s tale drew to a close. “That’s all, I reckon,” he ended. “Can you -suggest anything, madame?” - -Fantine’s lips twitched. Again she looked at Alagwa and then met -Jack’s eyes squarely. “Non, Monsieur! I can suggest nothing, me!” she -assented, deliberately. “But, monsieur, I make you very welcome to the -house of Bondie. Is this”--she jerked her head toward Alagwa--“is this -the boy you have rescue?” Her eyes bored into his. - -Jack grinned. He was beginning to like the big French woman immensely. -“I wouldn’t call it rescue, exactly,” he said. “But this is the boy.” - -“Ah! la, la,” the French woman burst out. “Le pauvre garcon! But he is -tired, yes, one can see that, and I am the big fool that I keep him -and you standing. Ah, la, la, but we all are of blindness. Ah! yes but -of a blindness. Entrez, entrez, messieurs! Peter will show the black -monsieur where to put the horses. Entrez!” - -Jack turned obediently toward the entrance, but Stickney halted. -Plainly he was disappointed at Fantine’s lack of information. “Well! -I’m off,” he declared. “I’ll be back later to go over things with you, -Mr. Telfair.” - -He strode away, and Jack and Alagwa followed Madame Fantine beneath the -shed. Cato and Peter led the horses away. - -The smaller of the two buildings evidently served as a store. No white -men were visible about its entrance, but through the open door the -newcomers could see an Indian woman behind the counter and a dozen -blanketed Indians patiently waiting their turn to trade. At the door of -the larger building, several white men were sitting, and inside, in the -great bar room, Jack could see a dozen more eating at a table made of -roughly-hewn planks set on homemade trestles. - -Close to the door Madame Fantine paused. “You will want to wash, yes?” -she questioned, waving her hands toward the basins. - -Jack nodded. “Glad to!” he declared. - -“It is all yours, monsieur. It is not what you are accustomed to, but -on the frontier--What would you, monsieur? For the table--ah! but, -messieurs, there you shall live well. I go to prepare for you the -dishes of la belle France.” - -She turned away, then stopped. “Ah! But I forget!” she exclaimed. “Le -pauvre garcon has the fatigue, yes,” she turned to Alagwa. “Come with -me, jeune monsieur,” she said; “and you shall rest. Oh! but it is that -you remind me of my own son, he who has gone to the blessed angels. -Come!” Without waiting for comment the big French woman threw her arm -around Alagwa’s shoulders and hurried her into the house, past the -eating men, who regarded her not at all, and on into another room. - -There she turned on the girl, holding out her arms. “Ah! Ma petite -fille!” she cried. “Think you Fantine did not know you when you looked -at her out of the face of that dear, dead Monsieur Delaroche. Have I -hold you in my arms when you were the one small bebée to forget you -now. Ah! non! non! non! Ah! But the men are of a blindness. The wise -young man he search, search, and not know he have found already.” - -Alagwa’s heart melted. Suddenly she realized the strain under which she -had been for the last four days. With a sob of relief she slipped into -the French woman’s arms and wept her heart out on the latter’s motherly -bosom. - -The latter soothed her gently. “There! There! Pauvre bebée,” she -murmured. “Fear not! All will be right. But what has happened that you -are thus?” She glanced at the girl’s masculine attire. “Ah! But it must -be the great tale. Tell Fantine about it. Tell your old nurse, who -adores you!” - -Between sobs Alagwa obeyed, pouring out the tale of all that had -befallen her since the day when Captain Brito had sought her out. -She held back only the real object with which she had come into the -American lines. “Tecumseh sent me to find the young white chief from -the far south,” she ended. - -“But, ma cherie,” the French woman interrupted. “Have you not found -him? Why do you not tell him who you are?” - -The girl shook her head in panic. “Oh! No! No!” she cried. “He must not -know.” - -“But why not?” - -“Because--because”--Alagwa cast about desperately for an excuse. “He -would be ashamed of me,” she said. “I am so different from the women he -has known.” - -Fantine’s eyes twinkled. Emphatically she nodded. “Different? Yes, -truly, you are different,” she cried, scanning the dark, oval face, the -scarlet lips, the rich hair that tangled about the broad brow. “Ah! -But yes, of a truth you are different! In a few months you will be very -different. But, monsieur the wise young man will not complain.” - -Alagwa’s eyes widened. “You--you think I will be pretty like--like the -white women he has known?” she asked, shyly. - -“Pretty! Mother of God! She asks whether she will be pretty? Ah! Rascal -that you are; to jest with your old nurse so. But--but it is not proper -that you should be clothed thus--” again Fantine glanced rebukingly at -the girl’s nether limbs--“or that you should travel alone with a young -man. That becomes not a demoiselle of France.” - -The terror in the girl’s eyes came back. “But I must,” she cried. -“Please--please----” - -“But why?” - -A deep red stained the girl’s cheeks. “Oh,” she cried. “I must know why -he seeks me. The Captain Brito want to marry me for what has come to -me. This one--this one--Is he, too, base? Does he, too, seek me because -I have great possessions? If he finds out who I am I shall never learn. -If he does not find out----” - -The French woman chuckled. “And the wise young man does not guess that -you are a woman!” she cried, holding up her hands. “Ah! Quelle bétise. -Eh! bien, I see well it is too late to talk of chaperones now. Have no -fear, ma petite! I will not tell him. He seems a good young man--as men -go. I read it in his eyes. But truly he is a great fool.” - -But at this the girl grew suddenly angry. “He is no fool,” she cried. -“He is----” - -“All men are fools,” quoth the French woman, sagely. “You will find it -so in time. Go your way, cherie! Fantine Loire will not betray you. -And, remember, her house is ever open to you. Come back to her when you -will. Tonight you will sleep here, in this room of my own son, now with -the blessed saints. And now--Mother of God! I must fly or M. Jack will -be mad with the hunger. And, cherie, remember this! Men are not well to -deal with when they are hungry. Feed them, ma cherie! Feed them!” She -rushed away, leaving Alagwa alone. - -How the girl got through dinner she never knew. After it, when Major -Stickney returned, bringing Captain Wells, a tall, grave man, she -pleaded fatigue and left him and Jack to talk with each other and with -the men in the hotel, while she slipped away to the room that Madame -Fantine had prepared for her. Till late that night she and the kindly -French woman sat up and talked. - -Even when left alone the girl did not sleep. Her duty to Tecumseh lay -heavy on her soul. She must send him the information in her possession -or she must confess herself a coward and a traitor to her people. - -Yet she shrank from it. Not for the sake of the men in the fort! She -hated them all, she told herself. Gladly would she slay them all. And -not for the sake of the Bondies. She had learned enough that night -to feel sure that they would be safe from any Indian attack. No! Her -hesitation came from another cause. - -What would Jack say when he knew that she was a spy? Insistently the -question drummed into her ears. What would he say? What would he do? -She pressed her fingers to her hot eyeballs, but the pressure did not -dim the vision of his eyes, stricken blank with anger and with shame. - -And yet she must send Tecumseh word. She must! She had promised to keep -the faith, to do her duty regardless of consequences to herself. She -had visioned death as her punishment and had been ready to face it. She -had not visioned the torture of Jack’s hurt eyes. For a moment they -seemed to her harder to face than the stake and the flame. But should -she stop for this--stop because the penalty was heavier than she had -thought? Never. - -One crumb of comfort came to her. One thing at least she could do; one -small recompense she could exact. She could demand Jack’s safety. She -could send a message to Tecumseh that would make the lad’s comings and -goings safe. She knew he would hate her for it. But he would hate her -anyway. She would not stop for that. She would make him safe. And when -it was all over and he knew, she would die as an Indian maid should die. - -Noiselessly--as noiselessly as she had moved through the -forests--Alagwa rose from her bed and slipped to the door. Inch by -inch she opened it and looked out. The house was black and silent; its -inmates slept. Slowly she crept to the entrance to the big bar room. -The night was hot and the windows and the door stood wide open, letting -in a faint glimmer from moon and stars. In its light the sleeping -forms of men on the floor loomed black. Side by side they lay, so -close together that Alagwa could see no clear passageway between them. -Suppose they waked as she tried to pass! - -It did not occur to her that her going out would surprise no one--that -no one would dream of questioning her. Her conscience made a coward of -her and made her think that to be seen was to be suspected. Desperately -she caught her breath and looked about her, seeking Jack’s form, but -failing to find it. He was indistinguishable among the blanket-wrapped -forms. - -Long she stood at the door, peering into the room, her heart hammering -in unsteady rhythm. At last she stepped forward gingerly, threading -her way, inch by inch, catching her breath as some sleeper stirred -uneasily, expecting every moment to hear the ringing out of a fierce -challenge. Foot by foot she pressed onward till the door was at her -hand. Through it she stepped out beneath the midnight sky. - -The night was very still. High overhead the slim crescent of the moon -peered through swift-flying clouds. Round about, the great stars, -scarcely dimmed, flared like far-off candles. The broad shallow river -ran away to the east, a silver whiplash laid across the darkened -prairie. Beyond, the huddle of huts that marked the Indian village -stood out against the horizon. To the left, nearer at hand, rose the -black quadrilateral of the fort. - -All around rose the voices of the night. A screech owl hooted from a -near-by tree. A fox barked in the long grass. Nearer at hand restless -horses and mules stamped at their fastenings. Over all rose the bellow -of bullfrogs, the lapping of the river against its banks, and the -ceaseless, strident calls of the crickets. - -Once more Alagwa’s hot eyes sought the fort. Within it were the men -of the race she hated--the men who had derided and had threatened the -young white chief. There, too, the murderer of Wilwiloway slept safe -and snug, pardoned--yes, even commended--for his crime. And should she -withhold her hand? Never! She would take revenge upon them all. - -Swiftly she slipped through the grass to the shadow of a near-by tree. -Then, raising her head, she gave the soft cry of the whip-poor-will. - -Long she waited, but no answer came. Again she called and yet again, -till at last an answering call came softly to her ears. A moment more -and the form of the runner shaped itself out of the night. - -Eagerly she leaned forward. “Bear word to the great chief,” she -said, in the Shawnee tongue, “that the fort here is almost without -ammunition. Let the great chief come quickly and it will fall into his -hands like a ripe persimmon. But let him have a care for the lives -of the agent, Major Stickney, and for those of Peter Bondie and his -family. They are the friends of Alagwa.” - -The runner nodded. “Alagwa need not fear,” he promised. “They are also -the friends of the Indian. Is there more to be said.” - -“Yes!” Alagwa nodded. “Tell the great chief that I have found the young -white chief from the south, and that through him I hope to learn many -things that, without him, I could not learn. Say to him that Alagwa -demands that he give warning to all his warriors not to touch the white -chief. For on him Alagwa’s success depends. I have spoken. Go.” - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - - -LONG before sunrise the “Maison Bondie” was awake and stirring. Early -hours were the rule for travellers in those days on the frontier. While -yet the earth was shrouded in shadow and the mists were drifting along -the broad ribbon of the river, the sleepers on the bar-room floor -were rolling up their blankets and making their hasty toilets before -scattering to feed the mules and hitch them to the wagons preparatory -for a start to Vincennes and the south. Half an hour later they -returned to the bar room to devour the hasty yet heavy meal spread for -them. - -Jack and his party were astir as early as the rest--Jack and Cato -because it was impossible to sleep later on the crowded floor, and -Alagwa because of her keen anticipation of the coming day. Cato hurried -out to see to the horses and to the mule that Jack had bought for -him the night before, and Jack and Alagwa foregathered at the wash -basins beneath the shed. Even earlier than the wagoners, they seated -themselves at the rough table and hastily devoured the breakfast placed -before them, impatient to be gone down the long trail that led to Fort -Miami and to Detroit. - -Tom Rogers was not to accompany them. In spite of Colonel Johnson’s -assurances, Jack was by no means certain that either Alagwa or Captain -Brito had left the vicinity of Wapakoneta. He was going to Detroit -because that seemed the most promising thing to do, but he decided to -send Rogers back to Wapakoneta to keep a sharp look-out for both the -girl and the man. - -“You’ll know what to do if you find the man,” he said, grimly, as he -told Rogers good-by. “War has begun, and Captain Brito has no right to -be in this country. If you find the girl, take her to Colonel Johnson -and then get word to me as quick as you can.” - -Amid many calls of adieu and bon voyage from the kindly French people -the travellers set off. The sun was not yet up, but as the three -cantered to the ford close beside the blockhouse, that frowned from -the southwest corner of the fort, the morning gun boomed and the Stars -and Stripes flung out to the breeze. An instant later, as the horses -splashed through the shallow water, the sun thrust out through a gash -in the clouds above the eastern forest, lighting up the snapping banner -with its seventeen emblematic stars. A moment more, and the dew-studded -fields began to glisten like diamonds, coruscating with many-colored -fire, and the mists that lay along the river shredded and swirled in -rainbow tints. The wind sprang up and the vast arch of the heavens -thummed with reverberant murmurs, inarticulate voices of a world new -born, thrilling with the ever-fresh hopes with which it had thrilled -since the morning of time. - -For a few miles the road ran through open fields that stretched along -the north bank of the Maumee, a sunlit water strung with necklaces of -bubbles that streamed away from the long grasses that lay upon its -surface. A faint freshness rose like perfume from the stream, diffusing -itself through the amber air. Here and there limbs of sunken trees -protruded from the water, token of the great trunks submerged beneath -its flood; round them castles of foam swelled and sank, chuckling away -into nothingness. - -Then came the forest, a mounting line stretching across the path. -Fragrant at first and warm with the morning sun it swiftly closed in, -dim and moist and cool, arching above the road and the heads of the -travellers. - -Side by side rode Jack and Alagwa. The girl’s heart was beating high, -leaping in unison with the stride of the horse that bore her. Gone were -the fancies and questionings of the night. For good or for ill she had -sent the message to Tecumseh. She had kept faith with those who had -cared for her for so many years. She had insured Jack’s safety so long -as she should remain with him. It was all done and could not be undone. -Some day, she knew, she must pay for it all, pay to the uttermost, but -that day was not yet. Till it came she would forget. Resolutely she put -all fear of the future behind her, living only in and for the moment. - -Jack, too, was happy; the dawn worked its magic on him as it did the -girl by his side. Youth, strength, and health jumped together in his -veins. He did not know why he was happy. He was not prone to analyze -his sensations. If he had thought of the fact at all he would probably -have imagined that he was happy because he was going to the seat of -war and because he hoped to find there the girl in search of whom he -had come so many miles. It would not have occurred to him that he was -rejoicing less in the coming end of his journey than he was in the -journey itself. Nor would it have crossed his mind that he would have -contemplated the journey itself with far less pleasure if he had been -alone or had been accompanied only by Cato. He rejoiced in the company -of his new boy chum without knowing that he did so. - -And he had not thought of Sally Habersham for more than twenty-four -hours! - -For a time neither spoke. The road was broader and better than that -up the St. Marys. For years it had been a thoroughfare along which -Indians, traders, and armies had moved in long procession; and it was -well trampled, though it still required careful riding to prevent the -horses stumbling. - -Alagwa, in particular, was silent because she was puzzling over a -question that the events of the last evening had made pressing. - -If she was ever to find out beyond a doubt the reason why Jack came to -Ohio to search for her she must find it out at once. She did not know, -could not know, how long her opportunity to question would continue. -Fantine had detected her secret and had kept it. At any moment another -might detect it and might be less kindly. - -Besides, Fantine had spoken as if she was doing wrong in travelling -with Jack, even though he thought her a boy. Alagwa wondered at this, -for no such conventions held among the Indians, among whom in early -days unchastity was so rare that a woman had better be dead than guilty -of it. - -Jack noticed the girl’s abstraction and rode silently, waiting on -her mood. At last he grew impatient. “A penny for your thoughts, -youngster,” he offered, smiling. - -Alagwa started. Then she met his eyes gravely. “I wonder much,” she -said. “The thoughts of the Indian are simple, but those of the white -men are forked, and I can not read them. You have come by dim trails -over miles of hill and forest to find this girl whom you know never. -And the Captain Brito, the chief in the red coat, he also come far, by -land and by sea, to seek her. Why do you come? I do not understand.” - -“Why do I come?” Jack echoed the words, smilingly. “Well! Let’s see! I -come for several reasons--partly because Tecumseh sent me a belt asking -me to come and partly because I was in the mood for adventure, but -mostly because the girl is my cousin and because she needs help. I told -you all this before, didn’t I?” - -“Yes! But is not the Count Brito ready to help? Why do you not let him?” - -Jack laughed. “I reckon he is,” he confessed. “And, so far as I know, -he might have been able to make her quite as happy as my people can. -I don’t really know anything against Brito. His reputation isn’t very -good, but, Lord! whose is?” - -“If he found her, what would he do with her?” Alagwa knew she was on -perilous ground, but she went on, nevertheless. - -“He’d marry her out of hand, of course. That would give him the Telfair -estates, you see. He’s said to be heavily in debt, and the money would -be a godsend to him. After that a lot would depend on the girl. If -she happened to take his fancy he might be very decent to her. And -there’s no denying that she might like the life he would give her. But -the chances are against it, and it’s my duty to see that she isn’t -tricked into it blindfolded. Here in this forest she couldn’t possibly -understand, any more than you can, what a wonderful thing it is to be -mistress of the Telfair estates. If she marries Brito she gives up -everything without having known that she had it.” - -Alagwa was listening earnestly, trying hard to comprehend the new -unthought-of phase of life that Jack was discussing. One thing, -however, she fastened on. - -“But if _she_ refuse to marry _him_?” she questioned. “If she say she -will not make his moccasins nor pound his corn?” - -“She wouldn’t refuse. What! An Indian-bred girl, ignorant of everything -outside these Ohio forests, refuse to marry a British officer, who came -to her with his hands full of gifts? Refusal isn’t worth considering. -And if she really should be stubborn he could easily ruin her -reputation----” - -“Reputation? What is that?” - -“It’s--it’s--I’ll be hanged if I know exactly how to explain it so that -you can understand. I reckon the Indians don’t bother about it. But -in civilization, among white people, a girl can’t travel alone with a -man without getting talked about. Brito wouldn’t be likely to stop at -trifles. He’d contrive it so that the girl would be compromised and -then she’d have to marry him.” Jack stopped; he was a clean-mouthed, -clean-hearted young fellow, but he was no prude and he could not -understand why he should find it so hard to explain matters to the boy -at his side. Nevertheless, when he met Alagwa’s wide, innocent eyes, -he stopped in despair, tongue-tied and flushing. - -Alagwa was clearly startled. “You mean that if a white girl take the -long trail with a man she is comprom--compromised--and that she must -marry him or that the sachems and the braves will drive her from the -council fires?” she questioned. - -“Well--something like that. This girl, in her ignorance, would lose her -reputation before she knew she had one. And she’d have to marry him to -get it back!” - -“But--But if he refuse to marry her. If a man travel with a girl and -then not marry her?” A deep red had rushed to Alagwa’s cheeks; she bent -down her head to hide it. - -Jack shrugged his shoulders. “Brito wouldn’t refuse!” he declared. - -“I mean not Brito only. I mean any man who had--had compromise a girl. -Suppose he refuse to take her to his lodge in honor?” - -“Any man who did that would be a scoundrel. The girl’s father or -brother or friend would call him out and kill him. But, as I say, Brito -would marry Estelle, of course. And he wouldn’t need to do anything to -compel her. She’d marry him willingly enough. You know it.” - -Alagwa did not deny it. Jack’s assertion was correct; no Indian girl -would refuse to marry a redcoat chief. But his earlier assertion -concerning the loss of reputation gave her food for thought. - -“And you?” she asked. “If you find her what will you do?” - -“I? I’d take her home.” - -“And would it not compromise her to travel so long and dim a trail with -you?” - -Jack flushed. “It isn’t exactly the same thing,” he answered at last, -hesitatingly. “This is America and we are not so censorious. Europe -is very different. Over here we think people are all right till we -are forced to think otherwise. In Europe they think them bad from the -start. And, of course, I’d protect her all I could. Brito wouldn’t. -He’d be trying to make her marry him, you see, and I shouldn’t.” - -The girl straightened suddenly in her saddle. “You--you do not want to -marry her?” she faltered. - -A cloud came over Jack’s face. “No!” he said, slowly. “No! I don’t want -to marry her. I shall never marry anybody.” - -Startled, the girl looked at him. Then her eyes dropped and for a -little she rode silent. When the talk was resumed it was on other -subjects. - -All that day and all the next the three rode beneath great trees that -rose fifty feet from the ground without branch or leaf, and that stood -so close together that no ray of sun came through their arching -branches. It was nearly sunset on the second day when they came to the -fort built by General Anthony Wayne nearly twenty years before at the -junction of the Maumee and the Auglaize--the fort which he had named -Defiance, because he declared that he defied “all English, all Indians, -and all the devils in hell to take it.” From it he and his army had -sallied out to meet and crush the Miamis at the battle of the Fallen -Timbers. - -The ruins of the fort stood ten feet above the water, on the high -point between the Maumee and the Auglaize. Mounting the gentle slope -that led upward from the west the travellers descended into a wide -half-filled ditch and then climbed a steep glacis of sloping earth that -had encircled the ancient palisades. The logs and fascines that had -held the ramparts in place had long since rotted away and most of the -inner lines of palisades had disappeared. Within their former bounds -a few scorched and blackened logs marked where the four blockhouses -had stood. The narrow ditch that cut the eastern wall and ran down to -the edge of the river--the ditch dug to enable Wayne’s soldiers to -get water unseen by lurking foes--was half filled by sliding earth. -Mounting the crumbling ramparts Jack and Alagwa stood and stared, -striving to picture the scene as it was in the days already ancient -when the United States flag had flown for the first time in the valley -of the Maumee. - -For two or three hundred yards on all sides the forest trees had -been cut away and their places had been taken by a light growth of -maple and scrub oak. On the south, on the west bank of the Auglaize, -a single mighty oak towered heavenward--the council tree of all the -northern tribes, the tree beneath which fifty years before Pontiac -had mustered the greatest Indian council known in all America and had -welded the tribes together for his desperate but vain assault upon the -growing power of the white men--an assault which Tecumseh was even then -striving to emulate. - -Beyond the council oak, southward along the Auglaize, stretched an -apple orchard planted years before by the indefatigable “Appleseed -Johnny.” To the north, beyond the Maumee, stood a single apple tree, a -mammoth of its kind, ancient already and destined to live and bear for -eighty years to come. To the west, along the road down which the three -had come, black spots showed where George Ironside’s store had stood, -where Perault, the baker, had baked and traded, where McKenzie, the -Scot, had made silver ornaments at a stiff price for the aborigines, -where Henry Ball and his wife, taken prisoners at St. Claire’s defeat, -had won their captors’ good will and saved their lives by working, he -as a boatman and she by washing and sewing. Near at hand, but out of -sight from the fort, was the house of James Girty, brother of Simon, -where British agents from Canada had continually come to fan the -discontent of the Indians against the Americans. Up and down the rivers -stretches of weeds and underbrush choked the ground where Wayne had -found vast fields of enormous corn. Alagwa’s heart burned hotly as -she remembered that her people and those of kindred tribes had tilled -those fields for centuries before the white man had come into the Ohio -country. The fortunes of war had laid them waste. Silently she prayed -that the fortunes of war might yet restore them! - -Camp was rapidly pitched, the horses fed and picketed for the night, -and supper prepared and eaten. By the time it was finished darkness had -closed in. The moon was not yet up, though promise of it was silvering -the unquiet tops of the eastern forest. But on the exposed point the -glimmer of the blazing stars gave light enough to see. - -Jack stood up. “The first watch is yours, Cato,” he said. “Call me -about midnight.” “Bob,” he turned to the girl, “as you want to watch so -badly, I’ll call you about two o’clock. I needn’t caution you both to -be careful.” - -Alagwa was tired and she slept deeply and dreamlessly. She did not -share Jack’s fears. Even though she knew her message could not yet have -reached Tecumseh, she felt secure under the aegis of his protection. -Nevertheless, when Jack waked her and she saw the low moon staring at -her along the western water, she went to her post at the edge of the -rampart determined to keep good watch and make sure that no wanderer of -the night should creep upon the camp unawares. - -From where she sat she could see along both rivers--down the Maumee -to the east and up the Auglaize to the south. Up the latter, lay her -home at Wapakoneta, a scant twenty miles away. All her travels for the -past few days had been west and east again, westward out one leg of a -triangle, and then eastward down the other leg, and the net gain of one -hundred and fifty miles march, west and east, had been only a score of -miles north. - -Toward Wapakoneta she strained her eyes, not solely because it was -her home, but because if danger came at all it would come from its -direction. Tecumseh and his braves had come down the Auglaize less than -a week before and laggards might follow him at any time. Or, perhaps, -Captain Brito might come north; Alagwa knew that Jack doubted his -having left the country. - -The dawn was beginning to break. The boles of the trees began to stand -separately out; the leaves took on a tinge of green. Over all reigned -silence. No faintest sound gave warning of approaching enemies. But -the girl well knew that silence did not mean safety. Too often had she -heard the Shawnee braves boast of how they crept on their sleeping -enemies in the dawn. With renewed determination she thrust forward her -heavy rifle and strained her eyes and ears anew. Jack had trusted her; -she must not fail him. - -Suddenly she started. Was something moving beside the great council oak -or was it a mere figment of her overstrained nerves. The horses were -moving uneasily; now and then they snorted. Did they scent something? -Alagwa remembered that more than once she had heard the Shawnee braves -complain that the sleeping whites had been awakened by their uneasy -horses. - -Abruptly anger swelled in the girl’s heart. The braves had no right -to attack Jack’s party. She had sent word to Tecumseh that it must be -protected. True, Tecumseh could not yet have received her message, much -less have sent word to respect it. Any Indians who were creeping upon -the camp could only be a party of late recruits from Wapakoneta, bound -north to join Tecumseh and the British. Nevertheless, they were acting -counter to the orders that Tecumseh would surely give. Alagwa knew that -her anger was illogical, but she let it flame higher and higher as she -watched. If the Shawnees dared to attack---- - -Again she set herself to listen. She must not rouse the camp without -cause. Jack would laugh at her if she were frightened so easily. No! -He would not laugh! He was too kind to laugh. But he would despise -her. She must remember that she was playing the man; she must show no -weakness. Nothing had moved amid the tree trunks; she had only imagined -it. With a sigh of relief she lowered her rifle. - -Simultaneously came a crash. A bullet drove the earth from the rampart -into her face, filling her eyes and mouth with its spatter. Then from -every tree, from every rock, forms, half naked, horrible, painted, -came leaping. Bullets whistled before them, rending the tortured air. -As they topped the ramparts one, wearing a woodsman’s garb, caught his -foot and fell forward, sprawling; the others hurled themselves toward -Jack and Cato. Alagwa did not stop to think that these were her people, -her friends. Instinctively the muzzle of her rifle found the naked -breast of the warrior who was springing at Jack, and instinctively she -pressed the trigger. Then, heedless of the kick of the heavy rifle, and -of the blinding smoke that curled from its barrel, and reckless of the -pulsing bullets she threw herself forward. “Stop!” she shrieked, in the -Shawnee tongue. “Stop! Tecumseh commands it.” - -The braves did not stop. Relentlessly they came on. One of them sprang -at Cato; his tomahawk flashed in the dawn and the negro went down, -sprawling upon the ground. But Jack was up now; his rifle spoke and the -Indian who had felled Cato crashed across his body. As Jack turned, a -whirling hatchet struck him in the chest and he staggered backward. -But as the man who had thrown it whooped with triumph, Alagwa’s pistol -barked and he fell. From beneath him Jack rolled to Cato’s side and -caught up the rifle that had fallen from the negro’s flaccid fingers. -As he renewed the spilled priming, Alagwa, weaponless, heard a shot and -felt her cap fly from her head and go fluttering to the ground. Then -Jack marked the man who had fired upon her and shot him down. - -Dazed, Alagwa staggered back. For a moment she saw the battlefield, -photographed indelibly upon the retinas of her eyes; saw the man at -whom Jack had fired clutching at the air as he fell; saw the sole -remaining foe, the man who had tripped at the rampart, a huge man, -broad and tall, leap at Jack. Then sight and sound were blotted out -together. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - - -HOW long unconsciousness held Alagwa she never knew. It could not have -been for very long, however, for when she opened her eyes she saw Jack -and the man in hunter’s costume, the only foe left standing by that -short, fierce fight, still facing each other. She saw them dimly, -for, though the dawn was merging fast into the full day, to her eyes -darkness still impended. - -Nor were her eyes alone affected; a pall seemed to bind both her mind -and her muscles, holding her motionless. Idly she watched the two, with -a curious sense of detachment; they seemed like figures in a dream -whose fate to her meant less than nothing. - -The two men had drawn a little apart and were watching each other -narrowly. Evidently they had been struggling fiercely, for both were -panting; Alagwa could see the heave of their breasts as they drew -breath. The advantage seemed to be with the unknown, for Jack was -practically unarmed; in his hand he had only a light stick, charred at -the end, evidently a survival from some ancient campfire, while the -other gripped a pistol. - -At last Jack broke the silence. “So, Captain Telfair,” he said. “We -meet again!” - -Slowly into Alagwa’s consciousness the meaning of Jack’s words -penetrated. She did not move; she could not move; but her eyes focused -on the man in hunter’s garb who leaned forward, half crouching, and -glared into Jack’s face. - -It was Brito. He had not even disguised himself, unless it be -counted a disguise to discard his conspicuous red coat in favor of -a neutral-tinted shirt and deerskin trousers. Had it not been for -Alagwa’s dazed condition, she would have known him instantly. - -As she watched, he threw back his shoulders and laughed with evil -triumph. - -“Yes!” he jeered. “We meet once more--for the last time. Your friends -hounded me out of Wapakoneta. Damme! but they timed their actions -well! Who would have thought they would drive me here just in time to -intercept you. The fortunes of war, my dear cousin, the fortunes of -war.” - -Jack did not speak, and the other half raised his pistol and went on, -with a sudden change of tone: “You cub,” he hissed, “you’ve got only -yourself to blame. I warned you not to come between me and Estelle -Telfair. You came--and now you pay for it. I’d be a fool to let you -escape when fortune has delivered you into my hand.” - -Captain Brito’s tones were growing more and more deadly. With each word -Alagwa expected to hear his pistol roar and to see Jack go crashing -down. Desperately she strove to spring to the rescue. But she could not -move; she could not even cry aloud. A more than night-mare helplessness -held her fast. - -Jack faced his foe undauntedly. Not for an instant did he remove his -eyes from Brito’s. Despite the disparity in weapons he seemed not at -all afraid. “All right!” he said, coolly. “You’ve got the advantage -and I don’t doubt you’re cur enough to use it. When you’re ready, stop -yelping and blaze away.” - -Brito flinched at the contempt in the American’s tones, but he held -himself in check. “Where is the girl?” he rasped. “Where is she, d-- -you? Where have you put her? Give her up, and I’ll let you crawl home. -Quick, now, or you die.” - -Jack’s eyes widened. “The girl?” he echoed. “I haven’t”--he broke -off--“Find her for yourself,” he finished. Alagwa knew that he had -begun a denial. Why had he stopped? Had he suddenly guessed who she -was? Or was he hoping to trap Brito into some admission--playing with -him in the chilly dawn in the very face of death? - -Brito half raised his pistol, then lowered it. “I’ll find out now!” he -gritted. “You’re at my mercy. I’ve got a right to kill you and I’ll do -it. I’ll count three and then, if you don’t speak, I’ll fire.” - -Jack shrugged his shoulders. Alagwa noticed that he was edging closer -and closer to the man who threatened him. “Don’t wait for me,” he -answered scornfully. “Shoot and get it over with, you dog. As for -telling you anything, it’s quite impossible. It isn’t done, you know. -Shoot, you hound, shoot!” - -The last words were drowned in the roar of the heavy pistol. Brito had -taken the lad at his word. But as his finger pressed the trigger, Jack -struck him swiftly and desperately with his stick across the knuckles -of his pistol hand. - -The blow was light but it was sufficient. Diverted, the ball went wide, -burning but not breaking the skin on Jack’s side above his heart. -Before the roar of the pistol had died away, Jack had sprung in. His -fist caught the Englishman between the eyes. - -Bull as he was, the latter reeled backward. The useless pistol, jerked -from his hand, flew through the air and thudded upon the ground. An -instant he clutched at the air; then, like a cat, he was on his feet, -launching forward to meet Jack’s assault. - -In England boxing was in tremendous favor, and even in America, prone -to more violent methods, it was in high esteem. Rich and poor, peer and -peasant, alike prided themselves on their strength and quickness in -feint and blow. Prize fighters were honored, not merely by the rabble -but by those who held themselves to be the salt of the earth. Brito -had fought many a time, both for anger and for pleasure. Jack, less -quarrelsome and less fond of the sport, was yet well trained in the use -of his fists. - -Furiously the two men crashed together, Brito striving to crush his foe -beneath his greater weight, and Jack striving vainly to gain room for a -clean, straight stroke. Swift and brutal came the blows, short half-arm -jabs, cruel and punishing. Once Jack was beaten to his knees, but he -struggled up, striking blindly but so furiously that Brito staggered -back. - -But for the moment Jack had no breath left to follow up his advantage -and Brito none to renew the assault. Face to face they stood, with -blood-streaked faces, gaping mouths, and sobbing chests, each glad of -the respite but each determined that it should not be for long. - -For an instant Brito’s eyes wandered about the ground, seeking a -weapon; for an instant Jack’s eyes followed the Englishman’s and in -that instant he saw Alagwa where she lay crumbled against the rampart. -A yell of fury burst from his lips and he sprang forward. Brito saw him -coming and threw his weight into a blow that would have ended the fight -if it had gone home. But it did not go home! Jack dodged beneath it and -drove his right with deadly force against the other’s thick neck. Then -as Brito swung round, giddy from the impact, Jack struck him on the -chin and sent him reeling back a dozen feet, clawing at the air, till -he stumbled across the body of an Indian and fell upon his back. - -Jack bent above him, fist drawn back. “Surrender,” he panted. -“Surrender! Or by God----” - -“Not yet!” Brito’s outflung hand had closed upon a hatchet that had -fallen from the dead brave’s hand. Upward he hurled it with despairing -fury. - -Whether directed by chance or by skill the cast went home. The head of -the whirling axe struck Jack squarely upon his forehead, just at the -roots of his hair. He gasped, wavered, flung up his hands, and sank -down. - -Something snapped in Alagwa’s brain. The night-mare numbness that had -held her vanished. Together mind and straining body burst the bonds -that had held them. Mad with fury she sprang to her feet and hurled -herself at Brito, striking blindly with bare, harmless, open hands. No -thought of self was in her mind. Jack was dead; she thought only to -avenge him. - -Brito was scrambling to his feet. Even half risen, his great bulk -towered above the girl’s slender form. But so sudden and so furious was -her assault that he tottered backward. But as he reeled he clutched -at her left wrist and held it, dragging her with him, striking, -struggling, fighting like a trapped wolverene. He reached for the other -wrist, but before he could grasp it, the girl set her knee inside of -his and tripped him, hurling him headlong. But his grip upon her did -not relax, and together on the ground the two rolled, desperately -locked. Had Brito been less exhausted and the girl less maddened the -end would have come instantly; only her fury postponed it. - -Suddenly her chance came. Beneath her straining body she felt a weapon -and caught it up. It was Brito’s pistol. As she raised it Brito -snatched for it. His grip fell short and, overbalanced, he left his -head unguarded. Before he could recover Alagwa had struck him across -the forehead with the heavy barrel and had torn herself free. - -Like a cat she sprang to her feet. But Brito was up, too, nearly as -quickly; and she had no strength left to renew her assault. - -For a moment the Englishman stood, rocking slowly to and fro, striving -to clear his eyes of the blood that was trickling from the furrow the -pistol had traced across his forehead. Then he gave a great shout: - -“Estelle!” he cried. “Estelle! Damme! It’s Estelle.” He paused, -staring. Then he laughed hoarsely. “Plucky, too!” he cried. “A true -Telfair, fit mate for a man.” He flung out his hands. “To me! Little -one!” he cried. “To me! I liked you when I saw you first. But now--By -God! You’re a Valkyrie, a Boadicea. To think of your daring to fight -with me. You! A woman and a hop-o’-my thumb. By God! I love you for it. -Come to me.” He stumbled forward. - -Alagwa sprang away. As she did so her hand touched the powder-horn -that had clung to her belt through all that furious encounter. Her -bullet-pouch, too, was in place. Lithely she dodged Brito’s rush, and -as he blundered past she poured a charge of powder into the mouth of -her pistol and rammed home the wad. - -Brito saw and read her motion. The man’s pluck was good, for he lurched -toward her, laughing. “No! No! No! Estelle!” he cried. “Don’t shoot! -You’ve lost one kinsman already”--he glanced towards Jack’s silent -form--“and you can’t afford to lose another. Come! Lady! Cousin! Come -to me. I’ll take you to England. I’ll make you queen of them all”--He -broke off. Alagwa had forced home the bullet and had primed the pan. -Now she raised the pistol. - -Brito saw it and changed his note. “D-- you, you hussy!” he yelled. -“I’ll choke----” - -The pistol roared and he reeled back, clutching at his side. Then he -crashed down. - -For an instant Alagwa stared at him, noting the red stain that was -widening on his shirt beneath the heart. Then she let the pistol fall -and turned away. Staggeringly she made her way to Jack’s side and sank -down beside him. Into his torn hunting shirt she slipped her hand till -it lay above his heart. - -No faintest throb rewarded her. No quiver of lip or eye negatived the -red wound upon his brow. Silently her head fell forward. It was all -over. Jack was dead. Without a gasp hope died. - -[Illustration: ALAGWA SHOOTS CAPTAIN BRITO] - - - - -CHAPTER XV - - -LONG Alagwa sat, staring into the face of her dead. She knew now, for -once and ever more that he was her dead, hers, hers, hers alone. A week -before she had not known that he existed. Four days before she had -thought she hated him for the woe his people had inflicted upon hers. -Two days before she had offered to fight with him to the death, but -she had told herself that she had done this because he was facing her -foes as well as his. Now, only a moment before, she had shot down her -British kinsman, the ally of her people, in vengeance for his death. -In dull wonder her thoughts traversed step by step the path that had -brought her to this end, until in one blinding flash of enlightenment, -she read her own soul. He was hers, her mate, created for her by -Gitchemanitou the Mighty, foreordained for her in the dim chaos out of -which the world was shaped. - -And he was dead! He had never known her for what she was, had never -thought to call her wife. To him she had been a comrade only, not bone -of his bone and flesh of his flesh. And yet she knew that he had held -her dear; day by day she had felt that he was holding her dearer and -dearer. If she had been granted time---- - -But she had not been granted time, for he was dead. And she was left -desolate. She could not even follow him to the Happy Hunting Grounds, -for they were for men, not women. - -Suddenly a thought came to her. She remembered that she was dressed as -a boy and that her costume had deceived all the men who had seen her. -Might she not deceive also the guardians who waited at the entrance of -the trail that led to the Hunting Grounds? If she faced them boldly, -manfully, as a warrior should, might she not win her way past them to -Jack’s side? There would be no sharp-eyed women there to spy her out, -and once within she would stay forever. Never by word or by sign would -she betray herself; always she would remain Jack’s little comrade. No -one would ever guess. - -She would try it. Her hand dropped to her belt and closed on the -slender hilt of the hunting knife that hung there. Then it slowly fell -away. - -Before she played the man and started on the long, dark trail, she -would be very woman. The moments that life had denied her, that the -Happy Hunting Grounds might ever deny her, she would steal now, now, -from the cold hand of death himself. - -Desperately she searched the features of her dead. They were pinched -and pallid with the awful pallor of death. Lower and lower she bent, -yearning over him, more of the mother than of the sweetheart in her -mien. Gently she kissed his forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks, his -firm, bold mouth, taking toll where she would, bride’s kiss and widow’s -kiss in one. Again and again she pressed her warm lips to his till -beneath her caress they seemed to warm, reddening to tints of life. - -Suddenly his lips twitched and his eyes opened. “Bob!” he muttered. -Then once more his eyelids drooped. - -Alagwa screamed, short and sharp. He was not dead. Jack was not dead. -Gitchemanitou the Mighty had given him back to her. Hers it was to keep -him. - -Gently she laid his head upon the ground and sprang up. One of Cato’s -pans lay close at hand; she snatched it and raced to the river down the -protected way dug seventeen years before by General Wayne. - -Soon she was back, bringing a mass of sopping water plants. Over the -red wound on Jack’s forehead she bound them. - -Under her touch Jack’s eyes reopened. But they did not meet her anxious -gaze; they rolled helplessly, uncontrolled by his will. His lips formed -words, but they were thick and harsh. “Where--where--No, he’s killed. -I--saw--him--fall. He--he--Bob! Bob!” His voice ran up in a shriek. - -Alagwa bent till her face almost touched his. “I’m here, Jack,” she -breathed. “Can’t you see me?” - -The lad’s eyes snapped into focus. For an instant they brightened with -recognition; then they fell away. But he had recognized her. “I thought -you--were dead,” he muttered. “I saw you fall. I--I tried to kill him -for that--more than for all else. But--but----” his words wandered. - -The color flowed into Alagwa’s cheeks. Her eyes were very soft. “I -thought you were dead, too,” she murmured. “But we are both alive--both -alive!” Her voice thrilled with wonder. - -Jack’s fingers fumbled till they found the girl’s free hand and closed -upon it. “You’ve been a bully little comrade,” he muttered. “Bully -little comrade! Bully little com----” His voice died weakly away. His -eyes closed for a moment, then opened again. “Cato?” he questioned. - -Alagwa straightened. She had forgotten Cato since she had seen him go -down beneath the Indian’s tomahawk. Anxiously she looked about her. -Then, abruptly, she started, stiffening like a wild thing at sight of -the hunter. - -Not a score of feet away sat Brito, clutching his wounded side, glaring -at her with blood-shot eyes. Her hand fell to the knife in her belt, -and she gathered her feet beneath her, every muscle tense, ready to -spring. - -For a moment the picture held, then Jack’s fingers tightened on her -other hand, holding her back. - -“What is it? What is it?” he mumbled, piteously. “What is it?” - -“Nothing. It’s nothing!” Alagwa’s voice was low and soothing. Brito -seemed severely wounded. He was not attempting to approach. Perhaps he -could not. She leaned forward slightly, so as to cut off Jack’s line -of sight. He must not know. Not till the last possible moment must he -know. Forward she leaned, features rigid, teeth locked behind set jaws, -nostrils distended, staring Brito in the face. - -The Englishman tried to meet her eyes but his own dropped. He tried -to rise, but his strength failed him. Then he began to edge himself -backward, eyes fixed on the girl. Soon he reached the glacis and -dragged himself slowly up it. At the top he paused, a momentary flash -of his former spirit burning in his eyes. - -“Bravo! Little one!” he faltered, so feebly that the girl could -scarcely hear the words, “Bravo! You’re a true Telfair. I wanted you -before for your money. Now I want you for yourself. You’re mine and -I’ll have you. I’ll have you, understand? Sooner or later I’ll have -you. Remember!” His clutch upon the crest of the glacis loosened and he -slipped out of sight. - -Alagwa stared at the spot where he had vanished, listening to the -thudding of the soft earth into the ditch beneath him. Toward what -refuge he was striving she did not know, but she was sure that he -could not reach it on his own feet. If all of his party were slain, and -she did not doubt that they were, he could escape only by water. Both -the Auglaize and the Maumee below the fort were navigable for small -boats, and if Brito and his comrades had come in one, he might regain -it and float down the Maumee, possibly to safety. - -Should she let him go? No pity was in her heart. The frontier was grim; -it translated itself into primitive emotions, taking no account of -the shadings of civilization or of the blending of good and evil that -inheres in every man. Those brought up amid its environment hated their -enemies and loved their friends; they took no middle course. Brito was -an enemy and Alagwa hated him. All her life she had been taught to -let no wounded enemy escape. Brief had been her acquaintance with the -Englishman, but it had been long enough to show her what manner of man -he was. Should she let him go to come back again, perhaps to destroy -the thread of life that still remained in the helpless man by her side. -Or should she finish the work she had begun and make Jack safe against -at least this deadly foe. Feverishly she fingered the hilt of her knife. - -As she hesitated Jack’s plaintive voice came again. “Who’s talking” he -mumbled. “I--I can’t see. I can’t think. I--I--Bob! Bob!” - -“I’m here, Jack!” Alagwa’s fingers tightened upon his. - -Over the lad’s face came a look of peace. “Something’s happened to me,” -he breathed. “But you’ll stay with me, won’t you, Bob?” - -“Yes! Yes! I’ll stay with you. Don’t fear. I’ll never leave you.” - -“Good.... I--I seem weak somehow. Did somebody hit me?... I want to get -up. I must get up. Help me.” The lad caught at her arm and tried to -pull himself up. - -Alagwa did not hesitate. She was sure that, for a time at least, -he would far better lie flat upon the ground. “Don’t get up!” she -commanded. “Lie still. You have been wounded. Very nearly have you -taken the dark trail to the Land of the Hereafter. You must lie still.” -Her voice was imperative. - -Jack yielded to it. “All right!” he sighed. “But--But I want Cato.” - -Once more Alagwa remembered the negro. She stood up and looked about -her. - -The dawn was long past. The sun had risen above the tree tops and was -flooding the fort with yellow glory, making plain the havoc that the -brief fight had wrought, searching out the tumbled dead and crowning -their broken forms with pitiful gold. Prone they lay, grotesquely -tossed, grim with the majesty of death. Round them life bourgeoned, -careless of their fate. The waters rippled, the wind whispered -overhead, the birds chorused in the tree tops, the jewelled flies, -already gathering, buzzed in the glowing air. Far down the Maumee, on -the sunlit water, a black spot shaped itself for a moment, and then was -gone. Alagwa saw it and guessed that it was Captain Brito and his boat. - -Cato was lying face down where he had fallen. Across his body lay that -of the warrior who had stricken him down. Close at hand lay two other -braves, their well-oiled bodies and shaven heads glistening in the sun. -Alagwa did not even look at them; they were not friends--they were -outlaws--outlaws suborned by Brito to attack Jack because he had been -in search of her. The Shawnees were still her friends--she was still -true to Tecumseh. But these were private foes. She had been trained in -a hard school and their deaths affected her no more than would those of -so many wild beasts. - -She bent over Cato. His posture, to her trained eyes, spoke eloquently -of death. Nevertheless, she would see. Panting, for the fight had torn -open the half-healed wound upon her leg, she dragged the dead Indian -away and gently fingered the long, broad gash that ran across the -negro’s head. Blood from it had stiffened his wool into a mat of gore. -The hatchet had struck slantingly or had been deflected, but it had cut -deep. Never had Alagwa seen such a wound upon the head of a living man. -Sorrowfully she stared at it, for Cato had been kind to her. At last, -hopelessly but determinedly she rolled his body over and placed her -hand above his heart. - -It was beating, slowly but strongly. - -Amazed, the girl sprang up. Heedless of her injured leg she raced to -the river and back again and poured the cooling water on his head, -washing away the blood that had run down his forehead and had filled -his eyes. - -Instantly Cato gasped and groaned. “Here! You Mandy,” he protested. -“You quit dat! Don’t you go flingin’ no more of Mars’ Telfair’s plates -at me. Massa ain’t gwine to stand havin’ his plates busted that a-way, -no, he ain’t, not by no nigger living. You hear me.” - -Alagwa heard but she did not understand. The negro accent and forms of -speech were still partly beyond her. But she knew that Cato was alive -and she dashed what was left of the water into his blood-streaked face. - -The shock completed her work. Intelligence snapped back into the -negro’s eyes and he sat up. “Lord! Massa!” he cried. “What’s done -happen? Whar dem Injuns go? Whar’s Mars’ Jack?” - -“Mr. Jack’s badly hurt. Very near he go to die. But Gitchemanitou save -him. You are wounded, too. I thought you were dead.” - -Cato fingered the cut upon his head. Then he grinned. “Lord!” he -exclaimed. “Dat Injun oughter knowed better than to hit a nigger on -the head. But”--his grin faded--“but whar Mars’ Jack?” - -“Over yonder!” Alagwa gestured with her head. “But wait. Let me wash -and bind up your head. Sit still.” - -Much against his will Cato waited while the girl’s deft fingers washed -away the caked blood and bound a poultice of healing leaves across the -gaping cut. Then he took the hand that she offered and scrambled to his -feet and tried to make his way to Jack’s recumbent form. - -But at the first step he limped and groaned. “Lord!” he muttered. “I -done bust my feet mighty bad somehow. But I gwine to git to Mars’ Jack. -Yes, suh, I certainly am.” - -With many groans he made his way across the ground to Jack’s side. -“Mars’ Jack! Mars’ Jack!” he cried. “You ain’t dead, is you?” - -The sound of his voice roused Jack and he opened his eyes. Thankfully -Alagwa saw that he made no attempt to rise. “Hello, Cato!” he mumbled. -“Is that you? No, I’m not dead. I’m all right. How about you, Cato?” - -“I’se all right, Mars’ Jack, ’cep’n that my feet hurts mighty bad. Dat -Injun hit me a whack over the head, and that hurts. But seems like my -feet hurts wusser.” - -Jack’s eyes twinkled. “You must have been standing on a stone when -that Indian hit you over the head,” he said. “I reckon he drove your -feet down on the stone mighty hard.” - -Jack laughed weakly. Then suddenly an expression of terror came into -his face and his whole form seemed to shrink and crumble. When Alagwa -reached his side he was unconscious. - -Long but vainly the girl worked over him. He did not revive and an icy -cold hand seemed to close about her heart. - -From her childhood she had been familiar with wounds. With the -Shawnees, as with most other Indians, it was a point of honor to leave -no wounded friend upon the battlefield. At whatever cost, for whatever -distance, they brought home all who survived the sharp deadly struggles -of the day. Not once but many times Alagwa had bound up wounds and had -cared for injured warriors. Jack’s condition had not at first seemed -strange to her. She had supposed him only dazed from the blow he had -received and needing only a brief rest to regain his strength. But -now, abruptly, there flashed into her mind the memory of two warriors, -brought home from a foray, who bore no visible wounds but who were -yet wrecked in body and in mind. Like Jack they had been struck upon -the head. Like him they had revived and had seemed to be gathering -strength. Then abruptly they had collapsed and had lain feebly -quiescent, dazed, with wandering lips and eyes, for weeks and months -before they died. She did not know what the white men called this, but -she knew the thing itself. - -Was Jack to be like this? It could not be! Passionately her heart cried -out against it. And yet--and yet--even thus she was glad, glad, that -Gitchemanitou had given him back to her. Only let him live, let him -live, and---- - -But he could not live where he was. The ruined fort was a point of -extreme danger. One war party bound for the north had already passed it -on their way down the Auglaize, and at any moment another might follow. -None would pass the ruins of the ancient fort without visiting it, even -if no sign of the recent struggle were visible from the water or from -the trail along the bank. If Jack was to be ill for a long time, she -must get him back to Fort Wayne. - -And she must do it all. Cato was a splendid servant but useless so far -as initiative was concerned. On her and her alone the responsibility -must rest. Desperately she looked around, seeking inspiration. - -While she had worked over Jack the sun had mounted higher and higher. -The tall forest trees that ringed the clearing shimmered in the golden -downpour, the fretted tracery of their branches quivering against the -burnished vault of the sky. The forest creatures had grown used to -the presence of men and were going about the business of their lives -unafraid. A huge red squirrel scurried up one of the few remaining -palisades of the ancient circuit and sat upon its top, chattering. The -water in the river rippled incessantly as fish or turtle or snake came -and went. Great bullfrogs croaked on the banks. From every tuft of -grass and every rock and log rose the shrill stridulation of insects. -Gorgeous butterflies in black and gold and white fluttered about the -stricken field. The mule and the two horses were uninjured and were -cropping the sweet grass, heedless of the fate that had overtaken their -masters. - -But more than horses was needed. Jack could not ride and even if he -could cling to the saddle he would do so at the peril of his life. - -There was nothing to do but to make a travois--a structure of dragging -poles by which the Indians transported their sick and wounded, their -tents, and household goods. Calling Cato to saddle the horses, she -picked up the hatchet that had split the negro’s scalp, and hurried -out of the fort to return a moment later with two long straight poles. -These, with Cato’s help, she firmly bound, butt up, on either side of -her horse, which she knew to be the gentler of the two, then lashed -together the long flexible ends that trailed out behind. Backward and -forward, across the angle between, she wove the rope that had bound the -pack. Upon this network she fastened blankets till the whole had become -a sort of pointed hammock, with sloping flexible sides, one end of -which rested on the ground while the other sloped upward ending well -out of reach of the horse’s heels. By the time she had finished Cato -had packed the camp equipment on the back of the mule. - -With some difficulty the two dragged Jack upon the travois. Then Alagwa -took the bridle of the horse. - -“I lead,” she said. “You ride other horse.” - -Willingly the negro climbed to the saddle. “I’se mighty glad to,” he -declared, gratefully. “Lor’, Massa, if you knowed how my feet hurt! I -reckon Mars’ Jack was right. I must ha’ been standin’ on a rock.” - - * * * * * - -Four days later--for it took twice as long to go from Fort Defiance to -Fort Wayne as it had taken to go from Fort Wayne to Defiance--Alagwa -stood in Peter Bondie’s house in the room that had served her for a -night, watching with dumb fear-filled eyes as the surgeon from the fort -straightened up from his long inspection of Jack’s exhausted form. - -“Concussion of the brain,” he said, at last. “He’ll get well, but he’ll -be ill for weeks and probably for months.” - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - - -THE drama of the war was unfolding. The first act was filled with -martial music and with the tramp of armed men marching northward to -wrest from the British king the remainder of his great American empire -and to extend the bounds of the United States to the foot of the aurora -borealis. War had been declared in the middle of June and the late -summer of 1812 saw three armies afoot, one at the western end of Lake -Erie, one at Niagara, and one on Lake Champlain. - -The first clash of arms came in the west. Burning with zeal, General -Hull and his soldiers cut a road through the Black Swamp, occupied -Detroit, and early in July crossed into Canada. The country rang with -the news of their triumphant advance. The country did not realize, -though it was soon to do so, that for years the British in Canada had -been providing against this very eventuality, and had been building a -red bulwark against attack. For years they had been winning the good -will of the Indians with presents, had been cajoling them with soft -words, and had been providing them with arms and ammunition. And when -the war came they had their reward. While Hull was marching so gaily -forward thousands of savages were closing in behind him, surrounding -him with a red cordon that he was never to break. At first they moved -slowly, lacking a white leader. Soon they were to find one in General -Brock and the Americans were to realize too late that they had to -meet not merely a handful of British and Canadians but a horde of the -fiercest foes that any land could produce, some of whom, like Tecumseh, -hoped to establish an Indian kingdom whose barriers would hold back -the Americans forever, but most of whom fought merely for the spoils -of war, secure in the British promise to give them a free hand and -to protect them against any ultimate vengeance like that which had -befallen them when they had risen in the past. - -All this, however, lay in the womb of the future in July and early -August, when Jack was slowly fighting his way back to health. The -wound on his head healed rapidly, disappearing even before that on -Cato’s thick skull, and by the first of August he had recovered much -of his physical strength though little of his mental powers. One day -he would look out upon the world with sane eyes, gladdening Alagwa’s -sore heart with the hope that her vigil was nearing its end; the next -day some trifle, some slight excitement, even some memory, would strike -him down, and for days he would toss in delirium or lie in a state of -coma that seemed like death itself. It needed all the cheeriness that -Fantine could muster and all the assurances that Major Stickney and -Captain Wells could offer to sustain the girl’s hope that he would ever -be himself again. - -Meanwhile information that the war was not going well for the Americans -began to trickle in to Fort Wayne or, rather, to the white men adjacent -to it who enjoyed the confidence of the Indians. - -Owing to his Miami wife, Peter Bondie’s affiliations with the Indians -were close and he received early news of all that took place at the -front. Before any one else at Fort Wayne he knew that Hull had been -driven back from Canada to Detroit. He learned almost instantly when -Hull’s lines of communication were broken and the small force that -was bringing cattle and other food to his aid was halted at the River -Raisin, and he was kept well informed as the lines about Hull himself -grew closer and closer. Lieutenant Hibbs and the garrison at the fort, -meanwhile, seemed to dwell in a fool’s paradise. - -The first publicly admitted news that all was not going well was -that of the surrender of the fifty-seven men who garrisoned Fort -Michilimackinac, far to the northward. This, however, made little -impression. Fort Michilimackinac was unimportant and was isolated; its -surrender amounted to nothing. The next day, however, word was received -from General Hull that Fort Dearborn, one hundred and fifty miles to -the west, on the site where Chicago now stands, was to be evacuated. -Lieutenant Hibbs was instructed to consult with Major Stickney and -Captain Wells and to devise some means by which the order could be -safely transmitted and the garrison safely withdrawn. The next day -Captain Wells, with one white man and thirty-five supposedly friendly -Miami Indians, set out for Fort Dearborn to carry the orders. Even -this, however, did not disturb the optimism that ruled in the fort. -Dearborn, like Michilimackinac, was isolated and unimportant. - -The first news of the British and Indian successes, slight though they -were, bewildered Alagwa. In vain she assured herself that she ought to -rejoice. Her friends were winning. They were driving back the braggart -Americans. They were regaining all that the slow years had stolen from -them. Tecumseh’s drama of a great Indian kingdom would come true. She -ought to be glad! glad! glad! - -Nevertheless, her heart sank lower and lower. She could not understand -why this should be so. She was no friend to the Americans, she told -herself. She loved Jack, but she hated his people. She was still an -ally to the Shawnees and to the British. She hoped, hoped, hoped that -they would overwhelm the Americans and drive them back forever. But -still the pain at her heart grew sharper and sharper. - -Moreover her own actions began to trouble her. No longer could she -keep up the fiction that she was a prisoner. Prisoners do not bring -their captors back to the jail from which they have escaped. Moreover -she had conspired against this very fort, under whose protecting walls -she had sought refuge for herself and Jack. Gloze the fact over as she -might she could not wholly put away the thought that her acts were -both treacherous and ungrateful. Throughout July she had seen nothing -of the runner and had heard no word to tell that Tecumseh had received -her message or had acted upon it. None of the Miamis, who lived in the -vicinity, had approached her with any word from the Shawnee chieftain. -Early in August, however, Metea, chief of the Pottawatomies, who lived -a little to the west, sought her out and gave her to understand that he -knew who she was and to assure her that any message she wished to send -to Tecumseh would be transmitted. - -“Metea goes to Yondotia (Detroit),” he said. “Even now his moccasins -are on his feet and his tomahawk in his belt. Has the white maiden any -word to send.” - -His words struck Alagwa with a panic which she found herself unable to -conceal. Falteringly she declared that she had no word to send other -than that she was faithful to the redmen’s cause and would help it all -she could. She did not repeat her message about the scarcity of powder -at the fort. When Metea had gone she hid herself and wept. - -The next day, however, Jack took a sudden turn for the better, and the -girl’s joy in his improvement drove all misgivings from her mind. - -Once it had begun Jack’s improvement grew apace. A week went by without -sign of relapse. His eyes shone with the light of reason; his voice -grew smooth; his figure straightened; almost he seemed himself again. -The surgeon from the fort, however, still counselled caution. - -With returning strength the lad began to fret about the failure of his -mission to the northwest and to declare that he must be off to Detroit -in search of his cousin. In vain Alagwa urged upon him that he must -be fully restored to health before he attempted to exert himself, and -in vain the surgeon warned him that any sudden stress, either mental -or physical, was likely to bring about a relapse. Jack felt well and -strong and chafed bitterly at his inaction. - -One day, a little past the middle of August, he and Alagwa (with Cato -hovering in the background) sought temporary refuge from the heat -beneath the great tree before the door of the hotel--the tree whence -Alagwa had sounded the call of the whip-poor-will on that June night -nearly two months before. - -August had worked its merciless will on the land. The bare ground was -baked and hard beaten and the turf was dry as powder. The brooks that -had wandered across the prairie to join the Maumee were all waterless. -The air was heavy; not a breath of wind was stirring. Overhead the sky -quivered, glittering like a great brazen bowl. Inside the hotel the -heat was unbearable, but beneath the tree some respite could be gained. - -Jack was talking of the one topic that engrossed his thoughts in those -days. - -“Think of myself!” he echoed, to Alagwa’s pleadings. “I’ve thought of -myself too long! I’ve got to think of that poor girl now. What in God’s -name has become of her while I have been chasing shadows. First I let -Williams make a fool of me and lead me out of my way. Then I make a -fool of myself by camping for the night in the most dangerous place in -all the northwest--and get my silly head beaten in to pay for it. And -now I’m lying here idle while she--Good God! Where is she and what is -she doing?” - -Alagwa said nothing. She knew that by one word she could end Jack’s -anxiety, and again and again she had tried to utter it. But always it -died unspoken upon her lips. If Jack persisted in periling his life by -starting out too soon, and if she could stop him only by confessing her -secret, she would confess it. But she would not do so till the last -possible moment. - -Jack jumped to his feet. “And where’s Rogers?” he demanded. “What’s -become of him? I told him to report to me from time to time. By -heavens, I won’t wait here much longer! I’m well now, and if that fool -doctor doesn’t pretty soon say I can start, I’ll start without his -permission. He didn’t do anything for me, anyhow. It was you who saved -my life”--he turned on the girl--“it was you. You bully little pal, -you.” - -Alagwa looked down. Jack’s voice had a note of tenderness that she had -not heard before. - -“Yes! It was you,” he went on. “You’re a hero, whether you know it or -not. You won’t tell me much about what happened after Brito struck me -down, but Cato’s told me a lot. And apart from that you’ve nursed me -like a little brick. No woman could have been more tender. And I won’t -forget it.” - -Alagwa’s heart was singing. She dared not raise her head, lest Jack -should see the love light shining in her eyes and guess her secret. -Persistently she looked down. - -Then suddenly she heard Jack’s voice, in quite a new note. “By George!” -he cried. “There comes Rogers.” - -Over the dusty road from the fort the old man came trotting. When he -saw the light of reason in Jack’s eyes his own lighted. “Dog my cats!” -he cried. “But I’m plumb glad to see you, Jack. I been a-lookin’ for -you all up and down the Maumee and I never got a smell of you till I -met that skunk Williams just now and he told me you was plumb crazy. -Lord! Lord! How people do like to lie. If they wouldn’t talk so much -they wouldn’t lie so much and----” - -Jack interrupted. He was eager to divert the old man to the missing -girl. - -Rogers was entirely willing to be diverted. He did not care what he -talked about so long as he talked. - -“I ain’t got any news of her,” he declared. “She’s plumb disappeared. -She ain’t nowhere about Wapakoneta; that’s certain. I reckon she’s gone -north, and if you ask me I reckon she’s gone with that big cuss in the -red coat. He’s the sort that takes the eyes of the girls. You were -right in ’s’posing that he didn’t go north as soon as Colonel Johnson -thought he did. He didn’t go till a day or two before I got to Girty’s -Town, an’ maybe he didn’t go then. But he’s gone now.” - -Rogers stopped to take breath and Jack nodded. In telling the tale of -the attack at Fort Defiance Alagwa had said nothing about Brito or his -part in the fight, and Jack had followed her example. After all, the -affair was a family one and he saw no need of taking the people at Fort -Wayne into his confidence. Even now he merely accepted Rogers’s opinion -and did not inform him that he knew very well indeed the time at which -Brito had left the headwaters of the Auglaize. - -Rogers, indeed, gave him little chance to say anything. Vigorously he -rattled on. “There’s a letter coming from Piqua for you,” he said. “I -reckon it’s from your home folks. I saw it there and I’d a-brung it, -but I wasn’t certain that I was coming here when I left. I guess it’ll -get here tonight on a wagon that’s coming. I guess it’s from your -sweetheart.” - -Jack’s face had lighted up at the old man’s mention of a letter, but -it clouded slightly at his last words. “Not from a sweetheart, no,” he -declared. “I have no sweetheart. I shall never marry!” - -“Sho! You don’t tell me!” Rogers’s eyes twinkled incredulously. “Well! -You got time enough to change your mind. You ain’t like me. I got to -hurry. I don’t want to deceive you none, so I’ll own up that I ain’t as -young as I was once.” He glanced out of the corners of his eyes and saw -Fantine coming from the hotel toward the party. Instantly he raised his -voice and went on. - -“If I could find a nice woman, somebody that’s big enough to balance a -little shaver like me, I reckon I’d fall plumb hard in love with her,” -he declared. “You don’t know no such a woman round about here, do you -now, Jack?” - -Jack did not answer, for Fantine had come up. “Bon jour, M. Rogers,” -she cried. “You have been away long, n’est ce pas? What do you talk -about, eh?” - -Rogers grinned at her. “Oh! We was talking about gettin’ married,” he -declared brazenly. “Jack here was saying he was never goin’ to marry.” - -Fantine glanced swiftly at Jack. Then out of the corner of her eye she -searched Alagwa’s face. “Oh! La! La!” she cried. “These men! Truly they -all of a muchness. When they are young they all run after a pretty face -and if they lose it they think the world stops. Later they know better. -M. Jack will seek a bride some day. And when you do, M. Jack, see that -you choose one who will stand at your side when you face the peril, one -who will draw the sword and pistol to defend you. Do not choose some -fair lady who will faint at the sight of blood and leave you to your -foes. That goes not on the frontier. Do I not know it, me?” - -Jack stared. There was a note in the voice of the light-hearted French -woman that he had never heard before. For a moment it bewildered him. -Then he laughed. - -“Oh! No! No!” he cried. “I want no such bride as that. You have -described a friend, a comrade--yes, that’s it, a good comrade--like -my little Bob here.” He glanced at Alagwa affectionately, but she had -bowed her face, and he could not see it. “But I would not choose such -a one for a bride,” he went on. “I would never marry such a comrade, -brave and helpful though she might be. If I ever marry, I shall marry -some sweet gentle lady who never saw the frontier, who knows nothing of -war, who has tread no rougher measures than those of the minuet. I want -a bride whom I can shield from the world, not a mannish creature who -can protect me. I want--Good Lord! What’s the matter?” - -Alagwa had sprung to her feet, gasping. For a moment she stood; then -she turned and fled to the house. Fantine glared at Jack; her lips -moved but no sound came from them. For once, the situation was beyond -her. With a hopeless gesture she followed the girl. Rogers stood -staring. - -Jack caught at Cato’s shoulder and scrambled to his feet, his face was -white. “What--what--what”--he babbled. “Good Lord! What----” - -Half way to the hotel Fantine turned. She had remembered Jack’s -condition. “Nom d’un nom!” she cried. “Sit you down, M. Jack. It is -nothing, nothing. It--is the heat. Never have I seen its like. The boy -is overwrought. I will calm him. Sit you down! Do you want to fall ill -again?” - -Jack sat down, not because Fantine’s words satisfied him, but because -his strength was failing. He leaned against the tree, staring at the -house into which Alagwa had disappeared. - -At last he looked up at Rogers and Cato. “I don’t understand,” he -muttered. “I’ve hurt Bob some way. But how? I wouldn’t hurt him for -the world. How did I do it? How did I do it?” Heedless of the others’ -bewildered answers he babbled on, wonderingly. - -After a while he got up and went slowly to his room and lay down. -An hour later, when Alagwa remorsefully sought him, he was sleeping -heavily. Frightened lest this might mean a relapse, but not daring to -awake him, the girl stole out of the room and joined the others at the -table. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - - -EXCEPT for Jack and his party the Maison Bondie was entirely bare -of guests. The wagoners who made the place their home during their -periodic visits to Fort Wayne had that very morning driven away to the -south. Others would soon arrive, probably on the morrow, but until they -came the Bondies were alone. Rogers had gone, presumably to the fort. -Fantine had been busy comforting Alagwa, and when she remembered him he -had disappeared. - -Perhaps it was as well, for as Fantine and Alagwa and Peter’s Miami -wife sat down to supper Peter came hurrying in, bringing news that -destroyed the tastefulness even of Fantine’s cooking. - -Captain Wells and Captain Heald and the entire garrison of Fort -Dearborn had been massacred. The news had just reached the Miami -village. It had not yet reached the fort or any white man connected -with the garrison--not even Major Stickney or the priest at the -Catholic church--and probably would not reach them until the morrow. -But it was not to be doubted. The thirty-five Miamis who had gone with -Captain Wells to help in the evacuation of Fort Dearborn were all back -at their homes. But the white men had perished. - -With bated breath the Bondies discussed the massacre. They all knew -Captain Wells; the Bondies had known him for twenty years and Alagwa -for a few weeks only, but they all loved him. Forty years before, when -a boy, he had been captured by the Miami Indians, had been brought up -with them, and had married a Miami woman, the daughter of a chief. -Later he had become interpreter and agent for the United States and -was supposed to be in high favor with the Indians of all tribes. None -of his associations, however, had availed to save him. Where would the -blow fall next? Peter Bondie strove to console himself with the fact -that the Miamis, who lived close at hand, were his sworn friends, and -that the killing had been done by the Pottawatomies, whose homes were a -hundred miles to the west, though many of them were always to be seen -at and near Fort Wayne. But the consolation was rapidly losing its -force. - -Peter and Fantine were debating whether Peter should at once seek Major -Stickney, who was ill with ague, and tell him the news or should wait -till the morrow, when the Miamis who had accompanied Captain Wells -would be ready to make formal report. Alagwa sat silent, troubled over -the news, but thinking more of Jack’s words of the afternoon than she -did of the possible consequences of the massacre. - -Abruptly a shadow darkened the door and through it, into the room, -stepped Metea. Offering no explanation of his presence nor of his -absence for the past two weeks he sat down at the table and began to -devour the food which Peter’s Miami wife placed before him. When at -last he had finished he stood up. - -“Behold,” he said, “my moccasins are worn with much travel. I come -quickly from Yondotia (Detroit). I bring great news. The American chief -and all his men have surrendered. He was a coward. When the red man -shook his tomahawk he fell down and cried out. Over Yondotia now flies -the flag of the white father who lives across the great water.” - -No one spoke. The news from Fort Dearborn had been stirring but this -from Detroit was overwhelming, both in its immensity and in the -consequences it portended. The Bondies, Alagwa, and even Metea himself -had come, through many years’ experience, to look upon the Americans as -foes who fought to the death and who, even when conquered, took bitter -toll of those who slew them. That Captain Heald and his garrison had -been massacred was terrifying but not altogether amazing, for he was -outnumbered and isolated. But that an army larger than any that had -ever before been mustered in the northwest should have surrendered -tamely, without a blow, seemed incredible. If it were true--and none -questioned it--it would mean the destruction of American prestige and -the rallying of thousands of savages to the British standard. - -Metea voiced the situation. “The white men are women. They have talked -much and have pretended to be great chiefs and the red man has believed -them. But now he knows. They are women. At Yondotia they begged the -redcoats to save them from the wrath of the red men. It was the red men -who conquered and they will conquer again.” - -Metea spoke the truth, though it was left to a later day to recognize -it. All the early disasters of the war to the American arms were due -not to the prowess of the British nor of the Indians, but to the fear -of massacre. Hull’s surrender was not to actual foes but to possible -ones, not to the threat of civilized warfare but to that of torture and -murder by foes that kept no faith with the vanquished and that spared -neither men nor women nor babes at the breast. “Surrender! If I have -to attack I will not be able to restrain the fury of the Indians,” -was in substance the message that brought about Hicks’s capitulation -at Mackinaw, Heald’s massacre at Fort Dearborn, and Hull’s shameful -surrender at Detroit. Hull was old, his communications were broken, -he was surrounded by savages in unknown numbers, and the threat of -massacre terrified him. So he yielded. - -It was cowardly, of course, and unnecessary, too. The later history of -the war and the history of all later Indian wars proved conclusively -that no force of savages, even when backed by white men, could capture -a fortified place if bravely defended. Even the little fort on the -Sandusky, whose evacuation was later ordered because to defend it -seemed impossible, was successfully held by a tiny garrison commanded -by a real man against all the combined forces of the British General -Proctor and of Tecumseh. The British victories in the west early in the -war were won not by fighting but by diplomacy--by “bluff,” to use the -vernacular of a later day. - -Metea had paused and glanced about the room, awaiting a reply. It did -not come and he went on, his glance lingering on Alagwa. - -“Peter Bondie has ever been the friend of the red men,” he resumed. -“He has taken a squaw from the Miami tribe. Metea is his friend. Metea -is also the friend of Alagwa, the foster child of Tecumseh. Therefore -he comes to warn him and her. His peoples’ tomahawks are up. The chief -Winnemac leads them. Already they have slain the white men in the west. -In two days they will be here. Their tomahawks will fall on the white -men, and when they fall they will spare not. Therefore, let my brother -and all that is his betake themselves to the south. All this land once -belonged to the red men and it will belong to them again. No white man, -brother though he be to the Indian, shall live in it. Let my brother -take warning and begone; and”--he turned to Alagwa--“let my sister -prepare to go to Yondotia. Such is the will of Tecumseh.” - -The Bondies looked at each other; then they looked at Alagwa. The -imminent loss of all that they had accumulated was a shock, but Metea’s -words to Alagwa struck them dumb. Fantine, knowing what she did about -the girl, had suspected that the tie between her and Tecumseh had not -been entirely broken, but Peter was ignorant even of her sex, and its -revelation took his breath away. Neither he nor Fantine guessed the -purpose for which Alagwa had come into the American lines, nor in any -case would they have greatly reprobated it, for their associations and -sympathies were largely with the Indians. But the order to her to join -Tecumseh was a bolt out of a clear sky. Curiously, questioningly, the -two stared at her. - -Alagwa, however, was not thinking of herself, but of Jack. His words -that afternoon had cut her to the heart. But they had not freed her -from her obligation to serve him. She loved him and with her to love -was to give all, without question of return. Not even at the command of -Tecumseh, would she leave him. Yet she could not defy the will of the -great chief. She must gain time to think and to plan. - -She looked up and saw Metea’s eyes fixed on her. - -“At dawn tomorrow my sister will be ready,” he said. - -At dawn! Alagwa’s heart stood still. She would have time neither to -think nor to plan. Desperately she cast about for some respite, however -brief. “At dawn!” she echoed. “Why need I go so soon? Why need I go -at all. Will not Tecumseh and the redcoats come here? It is only the -Pottawatomies who will attack the fort?” - -Metea paused a moment before replying. “The Pottawatomies are brave,” -he said. “They will surround the fort, cutting off all help from the -south. If a chance offers they will capture it. If not, they will wait. -In one moon their redcoat brothers will come with the big guns to -batter down the walls. But my sister may not wait for them. Tecumseh -commands her presence now and she must go. She will have fitting -escort. Twenty of my men wait to attend her.” - -Alagwa’s hope vanished. No way could she see out of the coil that bound -her. “Did Tecumseh send no word about the young white chief?” she -faltered, desperately. - -Metea shrugged his shoulders. “The young white chief?” he echoed. “He -who slew the Shawnee braves at Defiance? No, Tecumseh sent no word! -Let the young chief stay where he is. Soon we will test his courage -at the stake and see if he is a brave man or a coward.” Metea threw -his blanket about his shoulders and turned to the door. Then he looked -back. “At dawn!” he repeated. “Let my sister be ready.” He strode -through the opening and disappeared. - -Alagwa sprang to her feet. Her eyes flashed, her nostrils dilated, -her lips curled back as they had curled when she faced Brito. “You -shall not,” she shrieked to the empty door. “You shall not. Dog of a -Pottawatomie, little do you know Alagwa. I will not leave him and he -shall not die. I will save him yet.” - -Peter Bondie looked at the girl contemptuously. “So!” he sneered. “You -will not leave him, hein? You will save him, hein? And how will you -save him? Bah! It is squaw’s talk.” - -“Silence, cochon!” Fantine had risen swiftly to her feet. Her vast -bulk quivered. “Fear not, ma bebée,” she cried. “We shall save him! -He is a fool and blind, but some day le bon Dieu will open his eyes. -Till then Fantine will protect and save him and you.” She caught -the half-fainting girl in her arms, and turned upon her brother. -“Scelerat!” she cried. “Know you to whom you speak? Know you that -you address the daughter of M. Delaroche, the niece of the Count -of Telfair, your liege lady? Down upon your knees, pig, and beg -forgiveness.” - -Peter did not drop upon his knees--he had been in America too -long--but he changed color and began to mutter hasty apologies. - -Alagwa scarcely heard him. Confused as leaves driven before October’s -blasts her thoughts fluttered. Possibility after possibility rose -in her mind only to be swiftly discarded. Her efforts to gain time -had failed. Metea would come for her at dawn. No doubt his men were -watching. She and Jack might flee that very night--But no! Jack would -not go without explanation. Even if he did go, his flight and hers -would be discovered in the morning and they would be pursued and Jack -would be killed. He could not withstand twenty men. And he must not be -excited. Besides, he would not go. Well she knew it. Could she persuade -him to take refuge in the fort? Not without an explanation, certainly! -And the fort would soon be attacked. She herself had made that certain. -It was her message to Tecumseh that had caused the British to send -their red allies to beleaguer it and cut off all help and ammunition. -Truly her deeds had found her out. - -What could she do? What _could_ she do? Insistently her thoughts beat -upon the question. And presently the answer came. - -Jack must be saved. He could be saved only by saving the fort. -Therefore the fort must be saved. It could not be saved unless its -garrison was warned. Therefore it must be warned. - -To warn it was to be treacherous to Tecumseh and to her friends. It -was to dig a deathtrap in the path which she had called them to tread. -It was to set back, perhaps forever, the day on which her people would -regain their ancient power. - -Alagwa knew it. To the last detail she knew it. And she did not care. - -Jack should not die! Rather let every Shawnee die! Rather let Tecumseh -himself perish! Rather let the whole Indian nation pass away forever! -Metea’s threat had done its work well, but its effect had been far -different from that which he had intended. - -She sprang to her feet. “Come,” she said. “Let us go.” - -Bondie stared at her with his little black eyes. “Go where, madame?” he -questioned, respectfully but wonderingly. - -“To Major Stickney. We must warn him. The fort must be saved.” - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - - -THE August night was close and still as Alagwa and Peter Bondie stole -out of the hotel to make their way to Major Stickney’s. The moon had -not yet risen but the great stars that blazed across the immeasurable -vault of the sky diffused almost as great a light. Fire-flies sparkled -and pale-winged moths, white blots amid the shadows, fluttered over -the dried grass and dusty trails that crossed the prairie. The hum of -mosquitoes and the ceaseless rune of locusts filled the air. In the -distance the unruffled waters of the Maumee reflected the stars and the -blue-black interstices of the sky. - -Neither Alagwa nor Bondie, however, was thinking of the beauty of the -night. Carefully they stole along, moving like dark shadows, every -nerve tense, every faculty of body and mind concentrated, watching -every bush lest it might hide some of the savages of whom Metea had -spoken. Foot by foot they crept along, using every artifice that years -upon the frontier had taught to Bondie and that life among the Shawnees -had taught to Alagwa. - -Nothing happened, however. Either Metea had lied about his men or -else had not thought it worth while to set a guard on the hotel, well -knowing that escape was hopeless and not dreaming that ether Bondie or -Alagwa would take the extreme step of warning the fort. - -Beside the walls of the fort, close to the ford across the shrunken -waters of the Maumee, stood the United States factory. At one side of -it, beneath a tree, Captain Wells’s Miami wife and his three children -were laughing softly, not knowing that far to the west their husband -and father was lying dead amid a ring of blood-stained bodies. In front -of the door itself Major Stickney was sitting, striving to get a breath -of fresh air to cool the fever that racked his body. - -When he saw Alagwa and Bondie his face lighted up. “Come and sit down,” -he called, eagerly, scrambling to his feet. “Is it hot enough for you?” - -Neither visitor answered the question. Alagwa glanced at Bondie, and -the Frenchman stepped closer. “Captain Wells is kill,” he whispered. -“Captain Heald and all the garrison at Fort Dearborn are kill. Winnemac -and his Pottawatomies have kill them. Perhaps some are prisoners, but I -think it not.” - -Stickney’s fever-flushed face suddenly paled. “Good God!” he cried. -Then with sudden recollection he gestured toward the woman and children -beneath the tree. “Careful! Careful!” he begged, tense and low. Then -again: “Good God! it can’t be true. Are you sure?” - -Bondie nodded. “It is true. The news have just come. Tomorrow Otucka, -who lead the Miamis who went with Captain Wells, will take the news to -the fort. But that is not all. There is worse to come.” - -Stickney caught at the log wall of the building before which he stood. -“Worse?” he echoed. “Worse? What worse can there be?” - -Bondie shook his head. “There is much worse,” he said. “General Hull -have play the coward. He have surrender Detroit and all his men.” - -Stickney stared. Then an expression of relief came over his face and -he laughed. “Oh! Nonsense!” he exclaimed. “That’s foolishness. Hull -surrender! I guess not. Captain Wells and the Fort Dearborn garrison -might be cut off, but Hull couldn’t surrender. If the same man told you -about Wells, perhaps he’s safe too. Of course you did right to bring -me the news and I’m grateful. But it’s all foolishness--just a rumor. -Tomorrow we’ll laugh at it.” - -“It is no rumor. It is all true. Tomorrow it will be confirm. And even -yet that is not all.” Bondie spoke gravely, apparently minding not at -all Mr. Stickney’s disbelief in his news. “It was Metea who bring the -news from Detroit. It was Winnemac and the Pottawatomies who have kill -Captain Wells. Now Winnemac comes to this place with his warriors. Some -are here now. In two days the rest will be here. They will attack the -fort. In a month the British will come with the big guns to help them. -It is true, Monsieur, all true! Sacre nom! Am I one to tell lies? It is -all true.” - -Stickney dropped weakly into his chair. Bondie’s earnestness and the -confirmation which Alagwa’s silence lent had its weight with him. -Almost he believed. Shuddering, half from horror and half from illness, -he lay silent for a moment. - -Then he raised his head. “Have you told Lieutenant Hibbs?” he asked. - -Bondie shrugged his shoulders. “Lieutenant Hibbs is a fool,” he said, -not angrily, but as one who states a well-known fact. “He speaks with a -loud voice, cursing everyone. He will not believe me, no matter what I -say. So I come to you.” - -Stickney got up. “We must go to him at once,” he said. “Come.” He -started down the path toward the fort, then paused and hesitated, -glancing at the woman and children beneath the tree. Then he went on. -“Poor woman,” he murmured. “Let her be happy a little longer.” - -At the gate of the fort the three were compelled to wait while a -messenger went to notify Mr. Hibbs that Major Stickney wished to see -him on a matter of grave importance. Plainly the captain was not -anxious to receive visitors, for it was long before the messenger -came back, bringing grudging permission for the three to enter. “The -lieutenant’s in the messhall,” he said, carelessly. “He’ll see you -there!” - -The messhall was a log cabin, long and low, that paralleled the -southern wall of the fort. As the three approached it their ears were -saluted with loud laughter and clinking of glasses. Clearly, it was the -scene of high revelry. - -Inside, at the head of the table, sat Lieutenant Hibbs, goblet in hand, -flanked by Williams, murderer of Wilwiloway and half a dozen others, -all traders or petty officers. Half a dozen smoky tallow dips threw a -flaring light on the flushed faces of the revellers, but did not dispel -the dim shadows that crept about the walls. - -Hibbs glanced at Stickney with a flicker of irritation in his eyes. He -made no attempt to rise, nor did he invite his visitors to sit down. - -“What the devil’s the matter, Stickney?” he growled. “What do you want -here at this time of the night. Can’t you let a man have a minute to -himself?” - -Stickney’s face was grim. “I have just received very serious news,” he -said; “and I have brought it to you. It is very serious--more serious -than I can say.” - -Hibbs glared at Stickney; then he glanced at Alagwa and his eyes -grew scornful. “News!” he growled. “I suppose you got it from -that worthless scamp”--he gestured at Bondie--“and from that d--d -Indian-bred cub. To h--l with such news. I wouldn’t believe such dogs -on oath.” - -“You’ve got to believe them this time. I doubted the news myself at -first, but now I am convinced that it is true. Send away your boon -companions and listen.” - -Captain Hibbs threw himself back in his chair. In the flickering candle -light his blotched features writhed and twisted. “I haven’t any secrets -from my friends,” he growled. “Spit out your news, or get out of here -yourself. Likely it’s some cock and bull story.” - -Stickney shrugged his shoulders. After all, why should he care who -heard what he had to say? The news could not be suppressed. On the -morrow it would be known to all, and it might as well be told at once. -With a tense energy, born perhaps of the ague that was racking his body -and of the weakness that he realized was fast overcoming him, he spoke. - -“Spit it out?” he echoed. “By God! I will spit it out! Do you know that -while you are revelling here the Pottawatomies are dancing over the -dead bodies of Captain Wells, Captain Heald, and all the men, women, -and children who were at Fort Dearborn? Do you know that General Hull -has surrendered Detroit and twenty-five hundred men to the British? Do -you know that in two days this fort will be surrounded by redskins and -all communication between it and the outside world will be cut off. Do -you know that the British are preparing to bring cannon up the Maumee -to batter down your walls? Do you know this, Lieutenant Hibbs, you to -whose care this fort and the honor of the country have been committed?” - -Stickney staggered and clutched at the edge of the table for support. -His strength was failing him. - -But his work was done. As he spoke the jeers of his auditors died away -and silence fell. Alagwa, watching, could see the drink dying out of -the faces of the listeners. - -Suddenly Mr. Hibbs staggered to his feet. His atramentous face had -grown pale; his nostrils twitched; his chin sagged. “It’s a lie!” he -blustered; “a lie cooked up by yonder dog and by that half-breed cub. -It’s a lie.” - -Stickney’s fever had come upon him and he was shaking in its grip. -“It’s no lie,” he gasped. “It’s the truth! And there’s no time to lose. -Preparations must be made this very night to send away the women and -children, and to make the fort ready for a siege.” - -Hibbs’s eyes widened. “Tonight?” he gasped. “You’re mad, Stickney, -mad.” His voice came clearer. The news had well-nigh sobered him. “If -this news is confirmed----” - -“Confirm it now. Send men to the Miami village across the river and -see what word they bring back. Don’t lose a moment. But let them be -careful. Twenty Pottawatomies are here already and others are coming. -Your scouts may be cut off. And hurry, hurry, hurry! Tonight you can -do many things that will be impossible tomorrow. For God’s sake, -Mr. Hibbs! For God’s sake----” Stickney’s voice failed him, and he -staggered. Alagwa pushed a stool forward and he sank upon it and leaned -forward upon the table, panting. - -Mr. Hibbs was recovering himself. He glanced at the faces of his boon -companions and saw that Stickney’s words had carried conviction. The -necessity of asserting himself came strong upon him. “Damnation!” he -roared, drawing himself up. “I know my duty and I’ll attend to it -without advice from you or anybody else. But I won’t be stampeded. I’ll -send out and inquire among the Miamis. When I get confirmation I’ll -act. But I’m not going to act on the say-so of two worthless half-Injun -curs and of a greenhorn out of his head with fever. Now get out and -take that scum with you.” He jerked his head at Peter and Alagwa. - -The listeners nodded. There was sense in the captain’s decision. After -all, the reports might not be true. Stickney believed them, but he was -an ill man, fever racked, likely to see things deceptively. It would -be folly to break up existing conditions on his single word. - -Alagwa had not opened her mouth. Silently she had waited and listened. -She herself was so sure of the truth of the tale that she and Bondie -had brought that she had not doubted that it would bring conviction -to others. And now Mr. Hibbs refused to believe it or to act upon it -without delay. - -And delay would be fatal to herself and perhaps to Jack. Metea would -come for her at dawn. Before then she must make sure of Jack’s safety. -Despairingly she looked to Stickney for help, only to find him -half-unconscious, shaking with fever. Clearly he was incapable of doing -more. If she was to gain immediate refuge she must gain it by her own -efforts. - -She looked at the captain and fury swelled in her bosom. Alagwa hated -and loved with equal intensity, and she had hated Hibbs since the day -she first saw him--the day he had scoffed at Jack. Now--now---- - -Recklessly she sprang forward and thumped with her clenched fist upon -the table. The subservience to authority ingrained in her as in every -Indian woman had vanished. Her white blood was in the ascendency. - -“Listen!” she flamed. “Listen while I speak. I bring you news that -the tomahawks are up against you. In return you call me scum. It is -well. I want not your good will. Think you I bring you news because -I love you? Not so! I hate you! I hate you all, dogs and murderers -that you are. Gladly would I see you all at the stake. My heart is -not white, it is red. Why, then, do I warn you? I warn you because my -friend, Jack Telfair, one of your own blood, one of a family high in -the councils of the great white father at Washington--because he is ill -and unprotected. I ask not your help for myself. I ask it for him and -for Peter Bondie and his sister, who at my bidding took their lives -in their hands to bring you warning. Metea and the Pottawatomies keep -watch upon us. At dawn they will come. Are we to be murdered because we -warn you?” - -Hibbs glared at the girl. But he was plainly uneasy. He had forgotten -about Jack. Now he remembered. He remembered, too, that information had -come to him lately that the young fellow’s family was of importance. -Still he blustered. “Hear the young cockerel crow!” he jeered. “What’s -this Metea fellow coming to you at dawn for?” - -Alagwa colored. She had forgotten her anomalous position. - -As she hesitated Williams burst in. “What’s he coming for?” he jeered. -“What you reckon he’s coming for? These Injun-bred cubs are always -snakes in the grass. I’ll bet this boy’s been playing spy for the -Britishers and the Shawnees ever since he’s been here.” - -Alagwa gasped. Williams had hit upon the truth. That he did not know -that he had hit upon it made his words little less appalling to -the girl. After all she was only a girl, a child in years, trying -desperately hard to play the man. Stickney was ill and Bondie -incapable. She was practically alone against a dozen men. The fury that -had sustained her went out of her, and she shrank back. - -Williams saw her terror and jeered at her. “What’d I tell you,” he -cried. “The cub’s a liar and a spy. He ought to be shot, d-- him!” - -For a moment more the girl faced the mocking men. Her lips quivered; -her breast heaved. Desperately she fought for self control. Then all at -once she gave way. Across her face she flung her arm, and bent forward, -her whole body shaking with wild hysterical sobs. - -Instantly Williams sprang forward, crying out in evil triumph. “I -knowed it!” he yelled. “I knowed it. Look at him. Look at his figger. -He ain’t no boy. He’s a girl. I’d a guessed it long ago, but she was so -d-- slim and straight. But she’s been a-growing and developing. Look at -her now. She’s a girl, a girl, a girl, an’ she’s been travelling around -with that Jack Telfair. The hussy! The baggage!” - -Like molten lead Williams’s words fell on the girl’s consciousness. She -attempted no denial; denial would be useless. Blindly she turned toward -the door. As she did so it opened and three figures pushed through it. -One, a huge woman, caught her in her arms. The other sprang past her. -The sound of a blow--a clear, clean blow--came to her ears, followed -by the crash of benches and table. Then Jack’s voice rose, chill with -death. - -“Gentlemen,” he said. “I learned for the first time a few minutes -ago that this lady was not a boy. Within the hour, if she will do me -the honor to accept me, she will be my wife. In any event, you will -remember that henceforth her honor is mine and you will address her -accordingly.” - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - - -THE doubts and fears of the past weeks and the terror of the moment -alike dropped from Alagwa, giving place to measureless peace and rest. -Jack was well and strong again; his voice had rung out as no sick man’s -could ring. He had come to her aid. He would stand by her. She was -glad, glad, that he knew her secret. She was so tired of playing the -man. Closer she buried her head on Fantine’s ample bosom and let her -happy tears stream down. - -Fantine did not speak. She stroked the girl’s dark hair and patted her -comfortingly on the back. But her eyes ranged forward, watching for -what was to come. - -Those in the room were divided into two parties, facing each other. On -one side, close to the overturned table, stood Hibbs and his company, -hands on pistols, waiting. Beside them Williams was climbing to his -feet from the floor to which Jack’s blow had hurled him. Facing them -stood Jack with blazing eyes, grasping a long pistol, blue-barrelled, -deadly. Behind him Fantine held Alagwa in her arms. Over her shoulder -Cato and Rogers peered, grimly waiting. Between the two parties sat -Stickney, looking with plaintive, fever-filled eyes for the table so -suddenly wrenched from beneath his hands. - -For a little the picture held. Then Alagwa remembered that Jack was -facing foes. Perhaps---- - -She whirled around, tearing herself from the French woman’s arms, and -sprang to his side, dropping her hand to the hunting knife at her belt. -She spoke no word, but her glittering eyes were eloquent. They bored -into those of Lieutenant Hibbs. - -Perhaps Hibbs had no taste for a struggle. Perhaps he merely realized -that he had gone too far. Whatever his reasons, he let go his pistol -butt and laughed hoarsely. - -“Have it your own way,” he scoffed, facing Jack with an assumption -of scorn. “This is a free country. Marry whom you d-- please. But if -you want to marry this boy--Humph! this--er--lady--you’ve got to do -it quick. If she isn’t your wife in an hour she goes out of this fort -for good and all. You’re white, and I’ll trust you to keep your wife -straight. But I’ll be d--d if I’ll trust any Indian-bred girl that -lives. I’ll give you an hour to send for Father Francisco and get tied -up. Understand! An hour! Not a minute more.” - -Major Stickney rose totteringly to his feet. “But--but--but--” he -chattered, protestingly. - -“Sit down!” Hibbs roared at him. “You’ve been preaching a h--l of a lot -about duty. All right! I’m doing my duty now. And part of it is to -drive out of this fort anybody that wants to see me and my men burned -at the stake. As far you”--he whirled on Peter Bondie--“if you and your -sister are afraid you can stay here.” He strode to the door then paused -on the threshold. “Remember! One hour!” he rasped, and trumped out of -the room, followed by his friends. A moment later the shrilling of a -bugle called the garrison to arms. - -Jack shrugged his shoulders. “That’s all right,” he sighed, smiling -at Alagwa. “You poor girl! What a little heroine you are. You were a -wonder as a boy, but as a girl--Good Heavens! How blind I’ve been. I -might have known that no boy could or would have done all that you have -done. Well, we haven’t much time----” He caught sight of Alagwa’s face -and broke off. “What’s the matter--er--Bob?” he asked, gently. - -Alagwa raised her face to his. In her eyes burned a light that Jack had -never seen before--the light of renunciation. “The road is watched,” -she said. “Metea and his braves watch it. If we evade them and pass -unseen, they will come to the Maison Bondie at dawn, and if they find -us gone they will pursue. We can not escape them. Therefore you must -stay here, in the fort. I will go----” - -“You?” Jack stared. Then he laughed. “You? My little comrade? My -little--Bob? I wasn’t just talking a moment ago. I will be very proud -and happy if you will be my wife. We’ve been jolly good friends, and -we’ll keep on--with a difference. You will marry me, won’t you--dear?” -He brought out the last word with a gulp. - -Slowly Alagwa shook her head. “No!” she breathed. - -Jack’s face showed surprise, perhaps disappointment, not to say -dismay. He stared at the girl and hesitated. Then he looked at his -watch. “Ten minutes of our hour is gone,” he said. “Bob, dear! you -must marry me! I’ll tell you why in a moment. But first”--he turned to -Rogers--“Rogers, go and get Father Francisco and bring him here. I’m -not of his church, but I suppose he won’t object on that score.” - -Rogers nodded and started for the door, but stopped as Alagwa raised -her hand. - -“Do not go,” she breathed. “It--is useless.” - -Rogers hesitated, but Jack stepped over to him and spoke to him, and -with a nod of comprehension he went out. - -Meanwhile Fantine had slipped to Alagwa’s side. “Men are all fools,” -she whispered, hurriedly. “They know not what they want. M. Jack spoke -today according to his kind. He thought of no girl in particular. He -only had fancies. Be not a fool and say him nay.” - -Alagwa clutched the French woman’s arm. “Why did you tell him?” she -wailed. - -“I told him nothing till he guess for himself. Parbleu! It was time!” - -“He guessed? Guessed that I am Estelle Telfair----” - -“Non! Non! He knows not that! He knows only that you are a girl and -that--Hush! He comes. I must go.” With a nod to Jack, the French woman -swept from the room, sweeping Cato before her. - -Jack watched her go; then he went to Alagwa’s side and took her hands. -“Little comrade,” he said, gently. “You really _must_ marry me.” - -“I can not.” The girl spoke so low that Jack could scarcely hear her. - -“Why not?” he asked. “You don’t hate me, do you?” - -Alagwa’s hands tightened in his. “Oh! No! No!” she breathed. “Not that! -Not that!” - -“Then why----” - -The girl raised her eyes. She was very young. But it was the day of -young marriages. The stress of life brought early maturity and Alagwa -was older far than her years. “Do you love me?” she asked, gravely. - -Jack colored. Then he opened his mouth to begin the ready masculine lie. - -But before he could utter it Alagwa cut him short. “Do not answer!” -she said, sadly but firmly. “I know you do not. You like me as a -comrade--a jolly good comrade--not as a wife. Soon you go back home and -you find the sweet, gentle lady of whom you speak today--or some other -like her. You have no place in your life for the brown wood-girl. For -the wood-boy you have a place, perhaps, but not for the wood-girl. I -know it. And I can not marry you!” - -“That’s nonsense,” Jack spoke irritably. He had offered to marry the -girl because he thought she cared for him, because he felt that he owed -it to her, and because he felt his honor was involved. He had not yet -had time to think of her as anything but a boy--a comrade. Scarcely had -he realized that she was a woman. But the moment she refused him, his -desires began to mount. Jack was a real man and resembled most of his -sex. - -“That’s nonsense!” he repeated. “There isn’t any ‘sweet, gentle lady.’ -There was one, I admit. But she--she was older than I, and she’s -engaged and probably married and--Oh! I’ve forgotten her long ago. I’m -awfully fond of you and----” - -“And I was fond of Wilwiloway--the chief that Williams murdered so -cruelly. The council of women say that he might take me to his wigwam. -But he say no; he want me not unless I love him. Shall I be less brave -than he? I did not love him and--and--you do not love me. So--so----” - -“But I do love you!” For the moment Jack thought he did. “I do love -you,” he insisted; eagerly. “Haven’t I told you often how glad I was -that I found you? Hadn’t I planned to take you to Alabama with me? -Haven’t I sworn dozens of times that you were the jolliest little -friend I ever had? Doesn’t that show that I love you? I couldn’t say -more--thinking you were a boy! Come, be reasonable! The priest will be -here in a minute. Say you’ll marry me?” - -Jack was speaking well. His arguments were unanswerable. His tones -were fervid. His wishes were unmistakable. But his words did not carry -conviction. He saw it and changed his arguments. - -“You really must marry me, little comrade!” he pleaded. “Don’t you see -you must. You--You’ve been with me for more than a month and--and--You -remember what I said to you while we were riding down the Maumee--about -a girl getting talked about if she--I said if the man didn’t marry her -he ought to be shot. You remember? You won’t put me in such a position? -Oh! You really must marry me!” - -But the girl shook her head. “No!” she said, firmly. “No!” She held out -her hand. “Good-by!” she said. - -“Good-by?” Jack’s mouth fell open. “What do you mean?” - -Alagwa’s pale lips curved into a smile. “Has the white chief -forgotten?” she asked. “The hour is almost done and I must go from the -fort. And you must stay.” - -“Stay? I stay and you--Good Lord! My dear young woman, understand once -for all that when you go out of this fort I go too. Either you marry me -and stay, or we both go. That’s flat.” - -Alagwa paled. “But you can not go with me,” she cried. “I--I will not -marry you, and if you travel with me now it--it would compromise me.” - -“Piffle!” Jack shrugged his shoulders, utterly heedless of his change -of attitude. “If you go, I go too.” - -“But--but it is death. Indeed, indeed, it is death.” - -“All right!” Jack saw his advantage and pressed it hard. “All right, -death it is, then.” - -Alagwa’s eyes filled with tears. Desperately she wrung her hands. “Oh! -You are a coward! A coward to treat me so,” she sobbed. - -“All right. I’m a coward.” Jack made the admission cheerfully. “But I’m -going with you--unless you marry me and stay here.” - -The door swung open, letting in the night. The parade ground was aglow. -Men with lanterns came and went. Wagons were being hurriedly piled -with luggage. Double lines of sentries guarded the walls. Evidently -Lieutenant Hibbs had obtained confirmation enough to alarm him and was -preparing for the worst. - -As Jack glanced through the doorway Rogers entered, ushering in a man -who could be no one except Father Francisco. Behind trooped Fantine and -Cato, and back of them came Captain Hibbs, with Williams at his heels. - -For a moment the captain glowered at the scene. “Tie them up, Father,” -he rasped. “The hour’s nearly gone, and, by God, I’ll keep my word.” - -Jack turned to the girl. “Which is it to be, little comrade,” he asked. - -With a sudden gesture of surrender the girl faced him. “Swear you will -never regret--never regret--never regret----” Her voice trailed away. - -“Regret? Of course not. Come, Father! We’re ready.” - -Father Francisco did his office promptly. Probably never before had he -married a man and a girl in boy’s clothes, but he asked no questions, -either as to that or as to the creeds of the strangely mated pair -before him. Creeds were for civilization and all it connoted, and -Father Francisco had been too long on the frontier to refuse his -offices to any who asked them. He tied Jack and Alagwa hard and fast, -delivered himself of a brisk and kindly little homily, blessed them, -pocketed the fee that Jack slipped into his hand, and went quietly away -to his duties. - -A buzz of congratulations followed. Fantine wept over Alagwa’s curly -head. “Tell him who you are,” she whispered. “Tell him who you are.” -Then came Cato, who bowed over her hand and called her “Mist’ess.” Last -came Rogers. - -“I’m mighty glad,” said the old man. “I always said you was a durned -nice boy and I calculate you’ll make a durned nice girl. I just want to -warn you about talking too much, but I guess it ain’t really necessary. -You ain’t always breaking in on them that’s older than you and trying -to air your opinions. Most folks keeps a-talkin’ and a-talkin’, but -you’re right quiet, and that’s a mighty good start toward a happy home. -I reckon you’ll do, even if you was brung up with the Injuns. I got -something for you. Leastways it’s for Jack, and I reckon it’s all the -same now.” - -The old man dug a letter out of his pocket. “Here’s that epistle I was -tellin’ Jack about this afternoon,” he went on. “It come half an hour -ago, while you two was a-talkin’, and I got it and kept it till you -was through. It’s from Alabam’, and I reckon it’s from Jack’s folks. -I reckon you’d like to hand it to him. Anyway, I got to go now. Give -it to him when you like. I guess there ain’t anything in it that won’t -keep for a while.” - -Alagwa took the letter. But Rogers was wrong in thinking that she was -glad to give it to Jack. Though proficient in the Indians’ picture -writing, she knew nothing of the white men’s lettering and she held it -in awe. Almost sooner would she have touched a snake. As quickly as -possible she handed it to Jack; then stood back and watched him as he -broke the seal. - -As he began to read, something--perhaps it was Alagwa’s strained -attention--drew the eyes of the group upon him. Abruptly all grew -silent, as if something portentous was in the air. - -Jack smiled as he read. Clearly the news was good. Then suddenly his -expression changed. A look of terror swept across his face. He flung up -his hands, reeled, and cried out. Then before even Alagwa could reach -him he toppled to the floor. - -Instantly Alagwa was on her knees beside him. “Jack! Jack!” she wailed. -“Jack! Jack!” - -Williams glowered at the pair in evil joy. Then he stooped and picked -the letter from the floor, to which it had fluttered from Jack’s -loosened fingers. For a moment he scanned it; then he looked up. -“I reckon this is what knocked him,” he jeered. “This here letter -says: ‘The girl you was sweet on ain’t married. She’s done broke her -engagement and she wants you to come back to her.’ An’ here he’s done -gone and tied up with a half-breed Injun cub. Ha! Ha!” - -Alagwa’s face grew white. What was lacking in the letter her mind -supplied. Her brain reeled. Williams’s jeering laughter grew faint, -coming from an immeasurable distance; the candles spun round her in -enormous zigzags, the floor beneath her swayed. Blindly she stared, -all her being concentrated in one great determination not to faint. - -Then she felt Fantine’s arms about her. Slowly self control came back -to her, and she raised her head. “Help me to get my husband to bed,” -she commanded. - - * * * * * - -Two hours later Alagwa, dressed for the road, stood looking down upon -Jack’s unconscious form. Her eyes were dry but her face betrayed the -ache that tore her heart. - -She was not uneasy about Jack. The surgeon had seen him and had -declared that his set-back could be no more than temporary. “Good -Lord!” he exclaimed. “What would you have? From all accounts the boy’s -been under stress enough tonight to prostrate a well man. He’s blamed -lucky to get off as easy as he probably has. Take better care of him in -the future, madame!” - -Alagwa had listened silently. She knew that more than exertion had -overcome Jack. Her mind was made up. Since Williams’s revelation she -had felt that she no longer had a place by her husband’s side. She had -saved his life in battle and had brought him safely back to his white -companions. Since then she had saved his life again by the care she -had taken of him. She had betrayed her friends in order that he might -be safe. And she had reaped her bitter reward. She did not blame Jack. -She blamed herself. She ought never to have married him. His life was -not hers. If for a moment she had thought it possible to go with him -and live the white man’s life in far Alabama the events of the night -had blotted the idea from her mind. She had done all she could to save -him. The fort, warned of the coming attack, would be able to hold out -till help came from the south. She could do nothing more. Her part in -his life was over. It remained only for her to take herself out of it. - -She would join Metea and go with him to Tecumseh. After all, to go was -no more than her duty. Tecumseh had called her and she must obey. She -would go and confess to him that she had failed in her mission and that -she had warned his enemies of his coming attack on the fort. She would -tell him why she had failed, and she would accept whatever punishment -he meted out to her. Almost she hoped that it might be that of the -stake, so that she might expiate her fault by extremest suffering. -Whatever it was, she would submit. Now that she knew that Jack’s heart -belonged to another, life held nothing for her. Yes! She would go to -Tecumseh. - -It did not occur to her that the great chief might not have sent for -her--that Metea might have been bought by the gold of Brito Telfair. - -Once more she looked at Jack. The smoky candle gave little light, but -the moon, now riding in glorious majesty across a cloudless sky, shone -through the open window with a radiance almost like that of day. By its -gleam Jack’s boyish features stood out clear and distinct. Slowly she -bowed her head; and with a sob, she kissed him on the lips. “Take care -of him, Cato,” she ordered, to the round-eyed negro who stood by. “Take -care of him.” Then, dry-eyed, mute, she passed to the square and across -it to the gate of the fort. - -The sentry made no attempt to stop her; he had no orders to stop those -who wished to go out; and without a word she passed forth into the -outer world. - - - - -CHAPTER XX - - -JACK’S relapse lasted longer than either the surgeon or Alagwa had -anticipated. When the emotions of the day cumulated in the rush of -blood that ruptured anew the delicate half-healed membranes of his -brain August lay hot upon the land. When he once more looked out -upon the world with sane eyes September was far advanced. The autumn -rains had transformed the hot, dry prairie into a fresh green carpet -starred with late blossoms that would persist until frost. The winds -were tearing the ripened leaves front the branches and heaping them -in windrows of scarlet and gold; the rustling of their fall whispered -through the air. From unseen pools along the Maumee the ducks were -rising. - -Many things had happened while Jack lay unconscious. The siege of -the fort had begun, had taken its toll of dead and wounded, and -had ended with the arrival of General Harrison and the troops from -Ohio and Kentucky. The Indians had fled down the Maumee to meet the -advancing British and warn them that “Kentuck were coming as numerous -as the trees.” Harrison had destroyed the towns of the Miamis and -Pottawatomies, had turned the command over to General Winchester, and -had left for Piqua. Winchester had marched down the Maumee and had -built a new fort at the ruins of Fort Defiance. Fort Wayne itself was -almost as it had been before the siege began, but the settlement around -it had been burned to the ground. - -In the three weeks that had elapsed Jack had not regained consciousness -sufficiently to understand that Alagwa had left him. After he was -better, Cato, fearing the effect of the news, kept it back until his -master’s insistence grew too great to be longer denied. - -Jack received the information in bewildered silence. He could not -understand it. Many of the happenings of that eventful evening had been -blotted from his mind, but some of them remained fresh and clear. He -remembered how the girl had fought against marrying him and how he had -forced her to consent. But he remembered, too, that she _had_ consented -and had married him, irrevocably and forever. Why, then, should she -leave him an hour later? And whither had she gone? - -Vainly he questioned Cato. The negro had grown confused with anxiety, -responsibility, and the lapse of time. “Deed I don’t know whar she -went, an’ I don’t know why she went, Mars’ Jack,” he pleaded, “’c’epin’ -it was somethin’ in the letter dat poor white trash read out to her.” - -Jack turned his head slightly. “Letter?” he echoed. “What letter? And -who read it?” - -“Dat letter that Mars’ Rogers brought you from home. I don’t know who -’twas from but I reckons it was from ole marster. You was a-readin’ -it when you dropped, and dat man Williams picks it up, and he reads -somethin’ outer it, and Miss Bob’s face gets white and her eyes sorter -pops and her mouth trimbles. Then she straightens up and turns her back -on Williams and says for me to help her get you to bed. Then, after a -couple of hours, when you’s restin’ sorter easy an’ the doctor done -said you warn’t a-goin’ to be sick long she tells me she’s gwine away. -She didn’t say whar she was gwine. She just went.” - -Jack had listened silently. He was still very weak. “What was it that -Williams read?” he asked. - -Cato fairly groaned with the effort to remember. “Seems like I can’t -exactly call it back, Mars’ Jack,” he confessed. “It was sumpin’ about -somebody wanting you back home, but who ’twas I disremembers.” - -“Well, where is the letter?” - -Cato shook his head. “Deed I don’t know. Mars’ Jack,” he answered. “I -ain’t seed it since. I looked for it the next day but I couldn’t find -it an’ I ax Massa Rogers, but he say he don’t know nothin’ about it. I -reckon it’s done lost.” - -“Go and find Rogers and ask him to come here.” - -While the negro was gone Jack lay quivering with excitement. He could -not even remember that he had received a letter, much less what it -contained. Cato’s words only added to his bewilderment. Naturally -his people would want him at home, but he could not conceive how any -statement to that effect could have troubled Alagwa, much less have -caused her to leave him. The thought of Sally Habersham never once -entered his mind. - -Rogers came after a while, but he brought no enlightenment. The old -hunter had left the room after giving the letter to Alagwa and had not -been present when Jack fainted. He knew only that the letter was from -the south, presumably from Jack’s home. Nor did he know whither the -girl had gone. He did not know that she had gone at all till nearly -twenty-four hours after her departure, and then he with the others was -shut up in the fort, unable to venture out. And long before the siege -was over all record of her going had been blotted out. - -Later, Major Stickney, recovered from his fever, came to see Jack, but -he knew even less than Rogers. - -Balked here, Jack swallowed his pride and inquired for Williams, only -to learn that the trader had tramped away with General Winchester’s -army down the Maumee. He inquired for Fantine, but found that she and -Peter had gone south with the women and civilians an hour after his -seizure; Cato thought she had gone before his “mist’ess” had. Even -Mr. Hibbs had gone, having resigned from the army as the sole way -of escaping court-martial on charges of drunkenness, cowardice, and -incompetence. Every avenue of information seemed blocked. - -Driven back upon himself Jack ate his heart out with vain questionings. - -He did not distrust the girl. It did not even occur to him to question -her conduct. What she had done she had done for some reason that had -seemed good to her. He was sure of that. His little comrade had not -lost her staunchness when she changed her seeming sex, nor when she -became his wife. - -His wife! The words thrilled him. Day by day his mind wandered back -over the events of the weeks that had passed since he came to Ohio. Day -by day the portrait he carried in his mind changed, Alagwa’s boyish -figure and boyish features melting slowly into the softer outlines -of womanhood. Day by day he called back all that she had said and -done until his heart glowed within him. How sweet she was! how dear! -And how roughly he had used her, treating her as a mere boy instead -of throning her as a queen. He ought to have guessed long before, he -told himself. He ought to have known that no boy could be so gentle, -so tender, so long-suffering. With shame he reconstructed the events -of that last afternoon beneath the great tree when he had spoken of -the “sweet, gentle lady” whom he might some day wed and had laughed -at the suggestion that he might mate with a wild-wood lass like his -boy friend. How could he have spoken as he did? Sally Habersham had -been in his mind, of course. But Sally Habersham--Sally Habersham was -not fit to tie the shoe of his little comrade; she was a mere ghost -flitting through the corridors of a shadowy half-forgotten world, a -million miles removed from that in which he dwelt. Fantine was right. -What a man needed--on the frontier or off it--was not a fair face and -a knowledge of the mazes of the minuet, but a staunch comrade, one -who would grow into one’s life and would share the bitter and the -sweet. Few men could win such a prize, and he--he had thought to do so -carelessly, casually, by arguments that to his quickened consciousness -seemed little better than insults. How had he ever dreamed that one so -tender, so true, so loving, would accept his hand without his heart. -She had called him a coward when he forced her to marry him. Well, he -had been a coward; with shame he admitted it. No wonder she had fled -from him. But he would find her and would tell her all the new-found -love that welled in his heart. And she would believe him, for he would -be speaking the truth. - -But how was he to find her? - -At last, when he was despairing, Father Francisco came to his aid. - -“My son,” said the priest. “I know not why your wife has left you----” - -“I don’t either.” Jack wrung his hands. “They tell me that it was -something in a letter--a letter I can not even remember receiving. But -I don’t believe it. I don’t believe it! She loved me! I am sure she -loved me. And she would not have left me willingly.” - -Keenly the priest looked into the lad’s face. “Do you love her?” he -asked gently. - -Jack paled, but his eyes met the other’s squarely. “By heaven, I do,” -he swore. “I did not know it. I married her for her honor’s sake. But -now--now--I love her! I love her! For me there is no other woman in all -the world and never shall be.” - -“And never was?” asked the priest gently. - -Jack colored. “I won’t say that,” he admitted. “I--I thought I was in -love once. Good heavens! I didn’t know what love was then.” He laughed -bitterly. “But I’ve found out now. Oh! Yes! I’ve found out now.” - -Father Francisco’s eyes had never left the lad’s face. But at the last -words he nodded. “I believe you, my son,” he said. “We men are poor -creatures at best. I come to bring you a crumb of news--only a crumb, -but still, news. Your wife did not go south. She went down the Maumee -with a party of Pottawatomies. I think she must have intended to go -back to the Shawnees with whom she had lived so many years.” - -Jack clambered to his feet. “Down the Maumee?” he echoed. “I’ll start -after her at once.” - -But the priest shook his head. “No!” he said. “You must get well and -strong first. If you start now you will kill yourself and you will not -find your wife. She is in no danger. Wherever she went, she went of her -own accord. She is perfectly safe. If you really want to find her you -will control yourself and get well.” - -Jack set his teeth hard. The advice was good and he knew that he must -follow it. But still he protested. “If you knew,” he began,---- - -“I do know.” The priest spoke gently. “Years ago I myself--But that is -long past. Let it lie! You must not start for at least two weeks.” - -“All right.” Jack spoke reluctantly. “And, thank you, Father!” - -The priest rose. “No thanks are necessary,” he said. “The church frowns -on the separation of husbands and wives, and I only did my duty in -telling you as soon as I knew.” - -Jack lay back on his couch rejoicing. The veil was still before his -eyes, but it was no longer black. Light had dawned behind it. It would -brighten, brighten, till---- - -When Rogers heard the news he nodded sagely. “I reckoned so all along,” -he asserted. “I reckoned she’d gone back to those Injun friends of -hers. But I kinder hated to say so. Most Injun-bred youngsters does -when they gets an excuse. Maybe that there letter gave her a jolt -and----” - -Jack sat up. “Williams is down the Maumee,” he gritted. “If I find -him----” - -“Of course! Of course! But of course he’d lie. An’ maybe there’s an -easier way. It’ll take a week or two for you to get well enough to -start. Whyn’t you let me go to Piqua and find Peter Bondie an’----” - -“Will you?” Jack was growing more and more excited. “When can you -start?” - -“Right away. I----” - -“All right. Go! Go! Find Peter and tell him all that has happened. Ask -him if he can give me any help, any clue, however small. He had friends -near Fort Malden. He got news from these. Find out who they are. They -may know something. Find out what it was that Williams read aloud--what -it was that made my little comrade leave me. And”--Jack hesitated and -flushed painfully--“see Colonel Johnson and find out whether he has -heard anything of Miss Estelle, my cousin whom I came here to seek. -Good God! When I think how I have failed----” The boy’s voice died away. - -Rogers looked at him queerly. “I been a-thinkin’ about that gal,” he -said. “I got an idea that----” - -Jack interrupted. Jack had gotten used to interrupting Rogers, having -found that that was the only way to get a word in when the old man held -the floor. “Hurry back,” he said. “No! Hold on! I won’t wait for you to -come back here. Cut across the Black Swamp and join me at Fort Defiance -or wherever General Winchester and the army may be. I’ll go there and -wait for you.” - -The old hunter got up. “I sure will,” he assented, with alacrity. “I’ll -start right away. I reckon, though, I’ll get more from Madame Fantine -than I will from Peter.” - -Jack’s excitement lessened. A quizzical light came into his eyes. -Rogers’s liking for Fantine was no secret to him. “Maybe you -will,” he conceded. “Fantine is very kind hearted. It’s a great -pity”--meditatively--“that she talks so much.” - -A faint color tinged the old hunter’s leathery cheeks. “Who? Her?” he -mumbled. “She--she--Well? What in thunder do you expect a woman to do? -Ain’t a woman got a tongue? Why shouldn’t she use it. What I hate is to -hear men talking so much. Anybody that cooks like Madame Fantine sure -has got a right to talk. But, all right. Laugh if you want to. I’ll be -right off and I’ll join you as quick as the Lord’ll let me.” Allowing -no chance for reply the old man hastened nimbly from the room. - -After Rogers had gone the days passed slowly, while Jack -gathered strength and made ready to be gone. His horses had -vanished--commandeered for the use of the army--and no others were to -be had. Winter, however, was at hand and he set himself to follow the -custom of the country and to learn to use both skates and snowshoes. - -Cato had learned also, at first with many protests, but later with -mounting delight. “Lord, Mars’ Jack,” he said, one day. “I sutinly do -wish Mandy could see me on these yere things. I lay she’d cook me the -bestest dinner I ever seed.” - -Jack nodded. “I reckon she would, Cato!” he agreed. “But you want to -be mighty careful. We’re going a good many miles on the ice and if you -fell and hit your head----” - -“My head!” Cato looked bewildered. “Lord, Mars’ Jack, if dat Injun -couldn’t hurt my head with that axe of his’n, how you figger out I -gwine to hurt it on the ice?” - -Jack grinned. “Of course you wouldn’t hurt your head,” he agreed. “But -the ice isn’t more than a foot thick and if you hit it with your head -you’d probably knock a hole in it and we’d both go through and be -drowned.” - -As Jack’s skill in skating grew, his impatience to be gone increased, -the more so as the seat of war, after centering for a time at Fort -Defiance (where a new fort, Fort Winchester, had been built to -defend the frontier against the hordes of savages that hung along -the frontier), had begun to move down the river. When Jack heard that -General Winchester in command had boasted that he would take Fort -Malden in thirty days he refused to delay longer. - -When he started out January had come. Snow wrapped the earth and loaded -the branches of the trees, clinging even to the sides of the mighty -trunks that soared skyward. The road down the Maumee, well-travelled -as it was, was hidden beneath drifts. Only the river itself was bare, -swept clear by the icy wind. - -Down it Jack and Cato sped, their skates ringing on the steel-cased -coils of the winding pathway. For four days they travelled, passing -Fort Defiance and Fort Deposit, and coming at last to the mouth of -the river. A few hours more upon the ice along the shores of the lake -brought them to the American camp at Frenchtown on the Raisin River. - -Here Rogers was waiting them at the outposts. “I reckoned you’d be -along soon,” he said, “an’ I been watching. I’ve got news that you’d -ought to know quick. First place, Williams is here! No! I ain’t seen -him, but he’s here. He’s on outpost duty an’ you can see him tonight -if you want to. But I reckon you ain’t got time to fool with the skunk -now. I’ve got bigger news. I didn’t see Madame Fantine; she’d gone to -Cincinnati to get some goods to restock their store that was burned. -But I saw Peter. Neither of ’em knew that Miss Bob had left you. Peter -didn’t know nothin’ about the letter. But he knew something else. And -I saw Colonel Johnson and he knew something else, too. Who you reckon -Miss Bob really is?” - -Jack clutched the old man by the arm. An idea was dawning in his mind. -“Who? Who?” he chattered. “Not--not----” - -“She’s the gal you was lookin’ for--the gal that Tecumseh brought up. -Alagwa means ‘the star,’ an’ they tell me her right name, Estelle, -means star, too. I dunno why she fooled you. Women is durned curious -critters an’----” - -The old man babbled on, but Jack did not hear him. The explanation of -many things had rushed upon him. But the main fact stood overwhelming -and clarifying out. - -Bob was Alagwa, the girl of whom he was in search, the daughter of M. -Delaroche. And she was his wife. Once he knew the truth he could not -understand why he had not guessed long before. - -In truth, however, his dullness was not strange. No doubt, if he had -known from the first that his little comrade was a girl he would have -quickly guessed that she was the girl of whom he was in search. But so -long as he thought her a boy he could not guess; and since he had known -her sex his thoughts had been engrossed with other matters. - -When his thoughts came back to earth, Rogers was still talking. “Peter -was mighty sorry she’d left you,” he said. “He reckoned she’d gone back -to Tecumseh. And he says for you to see his friend, Jean Beaubien, at -Frenchtown, and----” - -“At Frenchtown? That’s here!” - -“Yes. An’ I’ve seen Beaubien! He knows all about Miss Bob. She’s living -at Amherstburg, with white people. Tecumseh’s having her taught things.” - -“At Amherstburg!” Jack gasped. “Why! that’s at Fort Malden, only -fifteen miles away, across the river!” He turned to Cato. “Cato,” he -directed, “you stay here with Rogers till I get back. If I don’t come -back----” - -“Hold your horses!” The old hunter fairly shouted the words. “You ain’t -plumb crazy, are you. You can’t go to Fort Malden ’less’n you want to -lose your hair. There’s seven thousand Indians there.” - -Jack set his teeth. “I’ll go if there are seven thousand devils from -h--l there,” he gritted. - -“Same thing!” assented Rogers, cheerfully. “All right! If you feel that -way about it, I reckon I’ll have to go along. But there ain’t no use -of being any crazier than we got to be. If we start at dark we’ll git -there just about the best time.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - - -DUSK was falling fast when the three friends, with ringing skates, fast -bound, sped forth on their perilous errand. Before them stretched the -vast expanse of the lake, steel-clad, reflecting and multiplying every -spark of light that lingered in the firmament. Behind them, low down -in the west, the pale ghost of the half-moon dipped swiftly toward the -tinted clouds into which the sun had so recently plunged. All about -hung a silvery haze, moonlight-born, an exhalation from the blue-black -ice to the blue-black sky. Far in the north the nascent lights of an -aurora flickered against the sky. - -The three did not speak much. The wind that had swept the ice clear -of snow made speech difficult, cutting the breath from their nostrils -and whirling it away in transient wreaths of mist. Leaning forward, to -shield their faces, the three pushed their mouths into the furs that -circled their throats and drove doggedly forward into the northeast. - -Jack, at least, was silent for other reasons. He was going to the place -where Alagwa had lived. But would he find her there? Or would he find -her gone--gone with the fleeing British and Indians? - -He had reason to think that they had fled. Every soldier in the camp on -the River Raisin was certain that they had. General Winchester, of whom -he had sought permission to go beyond the lines, seemed sure of it. - -Jack had found the general comfortably lodged a quarter of a mile -from his troops, in the house of Francis Navarre, a resident of the -place and a man with cultivated tastes and a well-stocked cellar. When -Jack called, the general was at table with half a dozen other genial -Frenchmen, who were laughing at his jests and listening to his stories -with apparently absorbing interest. A politician before he had been a -soldier, habituated to an easy, luxurious life from which he had been -for many weeks cut off and subjected to privation and suffering, the -general was expanding like a flower in the sunshine of his companions’ -flatteries. - -He received Jack affably--affability was his forte--and listened to his -story with interest. - -“Certainly you may cross the lines, my dear sir,” he said, when Jack -had made his request. “But I am afraid you won’t find your wife at -Amherstburg. My good friend, Jaques La Salle here”--he nodded toward -a smiling Frenchman across the table--“my good friend, Jaques La -Salle, has information that Fort Malden has been destroyed and that -the British and the Indians have all fled. In a day or two I expect to -march up and take possession. A glass of wine with you, sir.” - -Jack drank the wine in some bewilderment. He had not supposed that -such easy success was near at hand. “When did they leave, may I ask, -general?” he questioned, respectfully. - -The general shook his head. “Frankly, I don’t know exactly,” he -replied. “La Salle, when did your news say the British expected to -leave?” - -“This morning, general. They were packing up last night. Probably they -have gone by now. Beyond a doubt they have gone if they heard of your -intention to march upon them.” - -“Ha! Ha! Yes! They’ve gone, my dear Mr. Telfair. Still, they may have -left a guard. Some scouts who came in this afternoon reported that they -were getting ready to attack us tonight. All foolishness, of course! -It shows how little faith one can put in rumors in war time. If you -find out anything about their movements, let me know, Mr. Telfair. Good -fortune to you sir.” - -Jack hurried away, wild to be gone. But Rogers was obdurate and -perforce he waited till dusk. Meanwhile he talked with the soldiers. - -All of them were elated with triumph, past and expected. Only two days -before they had taken possession of the village, driving away the -British and Indians who had garrisoned it, and they were delighted with -their success. They had made no attempt to fortify their position. Why -should they? They were occupying the place only for a moment. The enemy -was flying before them. In a day or two they would pursue them, would -recapture Detroit, and wipe out the disgrace of Hull’s surrender. That -the foe might rally and attack them had not entered any one’s head. The -only man in all the camp who seemed in any way dubious as to the future -was Francis Beaubien, whom Jack visited to get full information as to -how Alagwa was housed, and even Beaubien confined his misgivings to a -shake or two of the head. The reports of the scouts were received with -jeers. Whom the gods destroy they first make mad. - -Jack recalled it all as he sped eastward. He was torn two ways. For his -country’s sake he hoped that the enemy had fled. For his own sake he -hoped that all of them had not fled or that Alagwa at least had been -left behind. Once away from the optimism of the camp he found it hard -to believe that foes so bitter and so often triumphant had fled without -a blow. - -At last the three reached the mouth of the short but broad Detroit -River and turned up it from the lake. As they did so the moon set, -leaving the great stars to arch in splendor across the cloudless sky. -In the north the aurora still flickered, now shooting upward toward the -spangled firmament, now dying away to palest gold. In the white glare -the frozen lake sparkled like a diamond. - -Up the river the adventurers sped, until the Canadian shore, gleaming -white with snow, rose silver edged against the sky. To the north, far -away, points of yellow light glittered through the trees and from the -top of the bluff. - -Rogers jerked his hand toward them. “All them Britishers ain’t gone -yet,” he snorted. “There’s a right smart passel of ’em left, judgin’ -from those lights. I reckon we’d better land down here a ways.” - -Jack nodded and changed his course, heading sharply in to the shore -half a mile down river from the camp and village. Half he expected -to be saluted by a volley of musket balls or to be met by a horde of -ambushed savages. Luckily, however, no enemy appeared. - -Cautiously the three landed and moved northward along the river, -following a road that led toward the village. When the lights were very -near, Rogers and Cato drew aside to wait, and Jack went on alone. - -Soon he found himself in the thick of the Indian village. No one -challenged him or questioned him. Dozens of other men dressed exactly -as he was were passing along the many paths trampled in the snow. No -British were visible, and he guessed that they confined themselves to -the limits of the fort, whose dark bulk rose above the houses of the -village. But Indians were everywhere. Seven thousand of them, many with -women and children, had gathered there, absolutely swamping the small -village that had once surrounded the fort. Dozens of French “habitans” -wandered through the streets. Nowhere could Jack see the least sign of -panic of which General Winchester had spoken so jubilantly. - -The white settlement was small and Jack had no difficulty in picking -out the house where Alagwa dwelt. It was larger and better built than -most of those that stood near it. Lights shone through several of its -windows. - -Jack went up to the door, intending to ask flatly for Alagwa, -hoping that the boldness of his demand might gain him admission to -her presence. His knock, however, though twice repeated, brought -no response. Hesitatingly he tried the door, and it opened easily, -disclosing a dim hall with a brightly lighted sitting room opening from -it on the left. For a moment he hesitated; then stepped inside. He had -no time to lose; if Alagwa was in the house he must find her; if she -was not in it he must search elsewhere. - -The sitting room proved to be vacant, and a glance through the open -door into the dining-room just behind it showed that this too was -untenanted. But as Jack turned back toward the hall, intending to seek -upstairs, he heard a rattling at the lock of the outer door. Swiftly -he glanced about him; then as swiftly he slipped back into the sitting -room and hid behind the long heavy curtains that veiled the windows. - -The next instant the door opened and a girl came in. At sight of her -Jack’s heart gave a sudden bound and then stood still. - -It was Alagwa. And yet it was not she! Gone were the boyish garments -that he had known so well, and with them had gone the slim boyish -figure and the careless boyish carriage. The girl did not wear even the -Indian costume that he had expected; from head to foot she was clothed -in the garments of the whites. - -And her face! Jack gasped as his eyes rose to it. The several features -he knew--the dark splendid starry eyes, the clustering curls, the red -lips, the olive cheeks in which the color came and went. They were all -there, but with them was something else, an indefinable something that -he had never seen before. Marvelling, he gazed, till doubt began to -grow in his mind. Could this indeed be she--be his little comrade of -the trails, she who had fought for him, she who had nursed him, she -who had pledged herself to him for better or for worse? Could she have -changed into this dazzling being, this maiden like and yet unlike the -“sweet gentle ladies” he had known all his life, this being adorable -from the tips of her tiny boots to the last riotous curl of her hair? - -He was about to sweep the curtains aside and step forth when the -half-closed door behind her was flung open and an officer in a red -coat, with a long military cloak trailing from his shoulder, strode -into the room. - -At sight of him the girl threw back her shoulders. Her eyes flashed. -Her cheeks flamed. “Captain Telfair!” she exclaimed. “What are you -doing here? Where are Mr. and Mrs. Winslow?” - -Brito’s eyes gleamed. He did not answer the questions. “At last,” he -breathed. “At last! I’ve got you at last. I told you I would get you -sooner or later. And, by God, I have.” His voice sank almost to a -whisper. - -Alagwa did not answer. Almost she seemed to have expected some such -reply. Steadily she faced the man. Jack, behind her, could see the -color pulsing in her cheek, just visible by the flaming lamps. - -Greatly he longed to spring forward and take Brito by the throat. But -he did not do so. He was in the heart of the enemy’s camp; the least -outcry would bring against him overwhelming odds and doom him to a -shameful death. Until the very last moment he would wait. - -“You nearly killed me once, you know, Estelle,” the man went on, in -the same hushed, almost wondering tones. “You fought me and you shot -me. It was then I first learned to love you. We are a fierce race, we -Telfairs, and we love fierce women. And you are fierce, Estelle, fierce -as the wild Indians who brought you up. God!”--he laughed hoarsely--“to -think that I--I, Brito Telfair, I who supped on the honey of women -long before I became a man, I who have known courts and palaces and -kings--to think that I should go mad over a wood-bred girl! But it’s -true, Estelle; it’s true. You are my mate--hot and fierce and proud. -You are mine and tonight at last I have you fast.” - -“Be not too sure!” Jack scarcely knew the girl’s voice, so deep and -resonant it had become and so well had she mastered the intricacies of -the English tongue. “Be not too sure. You thought so twice before--once -in the midst of Fort Defiance and once when Metea and his bribed dogs -turned me over to you. But both times you were deceived.” - -Brito shrugged his shoulders. “You saved yourself the first time, my -beauty,” he said. “And I love you for it. Tecumseh saved you the second -time and I hate him for it. Since then you have fought me off with your -tale of a husband! a husband!” The man laughed savagely. “That game -is played out. You have no husband! I have learned all the details at -last. Marriage between a Catholic and a heretic who part ten minutes -after the ceremony is no marriage. It can be annulled and it will be -annulled.” - -“It never shall be!” - -“Ah! But it shall. Tomorrow you yourself will ask it. Tonight you are -in my power--in my power, do you understand? I command at Fort Malden -tonight. General Proctor and all my superiors have gone to crush those -braggart Americans at Frenchtown. Tecumseh and his braves have gone -with them. Winslow and his wife, they who have sheltered you here, -are under arrest by my orders; they will be released with apologies -tomorrow, but tonight they are fast and can not come to help you. You -are mine--and tomorrow you will ask annullment.” - -Behind the curtains Jack stood tense and ready. The news that the -British and Indians had marched against General Winchester appalled -him. He knew what fearful havoc they would work if they could slip by -night upon the confident sleeping troops. - -What could he do? How warn his countrymen? He could not leave Alagwa -in peril. Nay! He could not leave at all. The road to the River Raisin -led through the room, past Brito and the Indians without. Could he pass -them? He could not overpower Brito without a struggle. And a single -outcry would ruin all. He must wait--wait and watch. The game was not -played out. Alagwa was no child. She might save herself and make it -possible for him to escape with her to the American camp. With hard-set -jaws he waited. - -Alagwa was speaking without tremor or fear. Scorn unutterable rang in -her voice. - -“It is a plot worthy of you and your race,” she grated. “Dogs and -liars that you are. Oh! I have found you out, all of you! For years -you have cheated my people, deceived them, debauched them. For years -you have fed them with lying promises to restore them to their ancient -homes. You hated and despised them, but you wanted them for a bulwark -against the Americans. You wanted them and you got them. You won them -cheaply--by lies and by presents--presents for which they are paying -now. They have borne the brunt of every battle in this war. They have -won every victory for you. And you--you do not dream of keeping your -promises. You--you personally--are like your lying race. You have -killed, you have bribed, you have conspired, you have imprisoned those -of your own race to win your way to this house, to get your grasp on -the lands handed down to me by my forefathers. Tonight you purpose -to betray the great chief who has gone away to fight your battles, -trusting to your honor, leaving his women in your care. All my life -long I have been taught to hate the Americans. All my life long I have -been taught to look upon them as robbers and as foes. But, after all, -I was born beneath the American flag. I have married an American. I am -an American. And I am proud of it! Yes! proud of it! I am proud of my -husband and proud of the race that produced him. I hate their foes. I -hate you. And, by the white man’s God I swear, that your triumph--if -you win it--shall be hollow, for you will clasp a dead woman in your -arms. And tomorrow--tomorrow--Tecumseh will come back and burn you at -the stake!” - -Brito did not answer in words. Instead, he leaped swiftly forward, -clutching at the girl with outstretched arms. - -Had Alagwa been bred in civilization he must have caught her. But -quickly as he leaped, eyes and muscles trained to avoid the rattlesnake -striking from his lurking place in the grass were quicker. Alagwa -dodged beneath his arms and darted into the dining-room, flinging the -door backward behind her as she went. - -Jack could wait no longer. As Alagwa vanished he sprang from behind -the curtains and threw himself upon Brito. His fingers closed on the -latter’s long military cloak and he swung the Englishman round with a -fury that tore the garment from his shoulders and sent him catapulting -against the farther wall. Simultaneously the jar of a heavy door told -that Alagwa had escaped from the house. - -Cursing horribly, the Englishman sprang up, plunging at Jack, sword -out. But he halted and recoiled as he met the small dark unwinking -stare of the American’s pistol. - -Jack’s voice rang out, chill and metallic. “Silence!” he clinked. “If -you raise your voice, you die.” - -Breathing hard, Brito faced the unexpected foe who had confronted him. -Suddenly his eyes gleamed with recognition and his teeth flashed from -behind his snarling lips. “You!” he gasped. “By God! You!” - -Jack frowned. “Not so loud,” he cautioned. - -“Not so loud! By God! Hear the cockerel crow.” A hoarse laugh rumbled -from the speaker’s lips. “You come in good time,” he cried. “Yes! In -good time. I shall not have to ask annullment now.” - -Jack did not answer. He was thinking what to do. He could not shoot the -man down in cold blood! Besides, the noise of the shot would probably -cost him his own life and would certainly bring his expedition to an -untimely end. He had caught his enemy but he did not know what to do -with him. - -Brito laughed again. Clearly he understood the American’s dilemma. -“You whelp!” he rasped. “Do you think that popgun will save you?” he -sneered. “Or do you think Estelle will come back to help you. She’s the -better man of the two. But she won’t come back. She didn’t even see -you, much less recognize you. I don’t believe she knew that any one -had come to her help. Probably she’s gone for her Indians. If she comes -back with them--Well! my friend, it’ll be all up with you.” Brito was -recovering his poise. - -Jack did not answer. He knew that if the Indians came it would indeed -be all up with him. Swiftly his eyes quested the rooms. At last they -rested on a bell rope that hung from the wall. - -Instantly he swung back on Brito. “Drop that sword,” he ordered. - -Brito dropped it. He heard death in Jack’s tones. - -“Turn your back! Quick!” Brito turned it. He was no coward, but Jack’s -eyes brooked no denial. In them he read obedience or death. - -As he turned Jack snatched at the bell cord that hung along the wall -and tore it down. Somewhere in the house a furious jangling rose -and slowly died away. As it died Jack looped the rope, coil after -coil, about Britons body. “Silence! Or you die!” he growled, and the -Englishman’s frantic but low-pitched curses died away. Swiftly he -bound the man to a heavy chair and thrust a gag into his mouth. Then, -throwing the long military cloak about his shoulders, and clapping the -army cap upon his head, he turned without a word to the door. - -His heart was heavy within him. He had set out to tell Alagwa of his -new-born love and to bring her back with him. He had won his way to her -side, had seen her face, had heard her voice--had heard her declare -that she was proud of him, her husband. If he could have had a moment’s -speech with her--a single moment’s speech--he could have told her--told -her--But it was not to be. Hidden in the mazes of the Indian camp she -was for the moment beyond his reach. - -Besides, he must hurry to warn the American camp. His heart burned -hot as he thought of the fatuous fool who slept far from his men, -who scoffed at warnings, who neglected the commonest precautions for -defense. Swift as prudence would allow he sped through the Indian -camp to where Rogers and Cato waited, and together the three raced -southward and westward, hoping against hope that they would yet be in -time, hoping till the far-off rattle of rifles rose and fell and died -away, till red flames crimsoned the sky, and the yells of exultant -savages sounded across the snow and the ice. Then, hopeless, the three -circled south and took the trail back to the Maumee, bearing to General -Harrison the fateful news that General Winchester’s army was no more. - -This much Jack knew and told. He could not know, what the world has -since learned, that Winchester, waking to the yells of the foe as -they hurled themselves upon his defenseless camp, tried too late to -join his sleeping soldiers and was captured by the Indians and taken -before General Proctor. He could not know that Winchester, overborne -by Proctor’s threat that he feared he would not be able to restrain -the fury of his savages if the Americans continued to resist, thrice -sent an order of surrender to Major Madison and the men who were -bravely holding out behind a barricade of garden pickets. He could -not know that at the third order Madison had surrendered on pledges -of protection from Proctor himself--pledges that the British general -promptly forgot, abandoning the wounded and the dying to the vengeance -of his savage allies--abandoning more than three hundred men, unarmed -and defenseless, to be tomahawked in cold blood or to be burned alive -in the building that had been hurriedly transformed into a hospital. -He could not know that six hundred more had been carried away as -prisoners, and that of the thousand jubilant men who had thought to -march on Amherstburg and Detroit on the morrow only thirty-three -escaped. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - - -BEFORE Jack again approached Fort Malden six months had passed -away--six months of winter, of budding spring, of golden summer. When -General Winchester’s army perished winter was nearing its end; when at -last the tide of war changed and began to flow northward summer had -died on a bed of scarlet and gold and autumn winds were driving the -rustling leaves through the whispering woods. - -During those six months even Jack, desperate as he was, had not dared -to run the cordon of foes that lay between him and his desires. Not -till Perry had swept the British from Lake Erie and Harrison sailed -with five thousand men for Canada could he once more set about his -quest. - -First of all Americans Jack sprang upon the Canadian shore at almost -the very spot where he had landed from the ice so many months before. -But he was too late. Fort Malden was in ruins; British and savages -had together fled; and Alagwa had gone. Half-mad with anxiety, he -sought and gained permission to scout in front of the army, which was -advancing swiftly, driving the foe before it. Now or never he must find -his bride. - -His chance came when, advancing up the Thames River with some of -Perry’s sailors, he captured a bateau manned by a captain and half a -dozen Canadian dragoons. Half an hour later, clad in the captain’s -uniform, he went forward into the darkening night, determined to -ascertain the position and defenses of the enemy, to learn whether they -meant to fight or fly, and to find Alagwa. - -He went alone; Rogers was lying wounded at the encampment at the mouth -of the Portage River, where he was being nursed by Fantine. Cato he -refused to take. - -The night was made for scouting. Close to the ground a light breeze -whispered, and high overhead a wrack of clouds drove furiously across -the sky. Through the gaps in the flying scud huge stars blazed down, -casting an intermittent light that enabled Jack to keep his course -without revealing his movements to possible enemies. Hour after hour -he went on, slowly, not knowing where he would chance upon the foe. He -did not intend to try to creep upon them unseen. He intended to walk in -upon them boldly, as one who had a right to be present, trusting for -safety to his disguise and to the inevitable confusion of the retreat -that would make it good. But he wished to choose his own time for -appearing and not to blunder on the enemy’s camp unawares. - -The path that he was following was broad and soggy. It had been -driven straight through crushed bushes that were slowly straightening -themselves and over broken and torn brambles. Spruce and hemlock -overhung the path, brushing his face with long spicy needles. Beyond, -on either side, rattled the bare canes of the underbrush, rubbing -together their thousand branches, bark against bark. Far away an owl -called, and once, high overhead, Jack heard the honk, honk of wild -geese speeding southward through the upper reaches of the air. - -Well he knew that his errand was desperate, more desperate than had -been his venture into Amherstburg six months before. If detected he -could expect no mercy. From time immemorial even civilized foes had -punished spies with death. What doom then could he expect from savages -who had been beaten and broken, whose ranks had been depleted, whose -villages had been burned, whose allies (on whom they had relied to -protect them from the consequences of their rebellion) were in full -retreat? Jack knew well the fiery death he faced. But he knew, too, -that if he did not find Alagwa that night he would probably never find -her. - -Abruptly the underbrush ended and he came out into a park-like open -space that stretched far into the distance. On the right the gleam of -water showed where the Thames wandered sluggishly to Lake St. Clair. -Cautiously he followed it till his road forked. One branch, broad and -deep, trampled and showing marks of heavy wheels, ran on up the river; -the other, marked only by trampled grass, turned off to the left. -Jack took the second, for he was looking for the Indians rather than -for the British. He followed it through a belt of swamp, in which he -sank nearly to the knees, then came out upon a second clearing, across -which, perhaps a quarter of a mile away, he saw a light flashing close -to the ground. - -With tightening pulses he advanced. Soon he saw leaping flames, -crisscrossed by the black branches of the trees. Then they vanished, -but their glow on the overreaching trees persisted, showing that they -had been merely obscured and not extinguished. A few yards farther, and -the screen that had cut off the light resolved itself into men thickly -ranked. Jack knew that Indians, most of all Indians upon the warpath, -build only tiny fires for cooking, for warmth, or for company; for -council alone did they build great fires like this. Half by luck and -half by effort he had found his way to the spot he most desired--to the -council fire of the savages. - -Now or never. Boldly he strode forward, like one who expects no -challenge. The clearing ended, giving way to undergrowth, beyond which -rose thicker forest. The ground underfoot again grew spongy and he -knew he was entering a second swamp. A guard of Indians, squatting at -the edge of what was evidently the camp, stared at him as he passed -but made no move to stay him. Further on, here and there, a warrior -glanced at him carelessly. Jack did not heed them; he well knew that -to hesitate would be fatal; deliberately he advanced to the ring of -savages and pushed his way through them. - -Within, a ring of sitting men--redcoats and red men--were ranged in -an ellipse in whose center burned the fire that he had seen from afar -off. At one end, a little in advance of the line, sat an Indian clad in -the red coat and shoulder straps of a British officer. Jack recognized -him instantly as the chief who had visited him upon the far-away -Tallapoosa and realized that he must be Tecumseh himself--Tecumseh, who -had been made a major-general by the British king. At the other end -of the ellipse, also in advance of the line, sat a British officer, -evidently of high rank. Jack guessed that he was General Proctor. -Round the circuit of the ellipse were ranged officers wearing the -uniforms of the British and of the Canadian militia, interspersed with -Indians, sachems of many tribes--Pottawatomies, Shawnees, Miamis, and -others--representatives of the nations that the British had roused -to murder and massacre. Only the Wyandottes were absent; foreseeing -the vengeance that was about to fall, they had that morning fled and -offered their services to General Harrison, only to be sent to the rear -with the curt announcement that Americans did not enlist savages in -warfare against white men. - -Close to Jack a gap showed in the circuit of the ellipse. He stepped -forward deliberately and seated himself in it. - -No one said him nay. All who noticed him seemed to take him at his own -appraisal. His uniform was a passport, and doubtless none dreamed that -an enemy would dare to so beard death in his very lair. None challenged -him, and when he looked about him no suspicious eyes burned into his. - -In the middle of the cleared space blazed the fire, its dancing flames -flickering on the bare overhanging boughs and on the ghastly painted -faces of the savages. At one side of it rose a cross, from whose arms -hung the creamy-white bodies of two dogs bound in ribbons of white and -scarlet. They bore no scar; so deftly had they been strangled that -not a single hair had been disturbed. At the other side of the fire -a warrior painted like death, beat a drum monotonously, tump-a-tump, -tump-a-tump. - -Into the ellipse a stately figure abruptly advanced. He faced the fire -and the cross and raised his hands. At the sign two young warriors -slipped out of the circle of braves and lifted down the dogs from the -cross and held them out. The priest received them with reverence and -laid them on the fire. - -For an instant the smell of burning hair filled the glades; then it was -swallowed up in the stronger odor of the dried herbs which the priest -sprinkled upon the flames. - -Then he began to chant, and the encircling braves took up the refrain, -rolling it skyward till the bare branches overhead quivered and the -water quaked among the mosskegs of the swamp. - - Our forefathers made the rule, - And they said: Here shall we kindle a council fire; - Here at the forest’s edge, here we will unite with each other, - Here we will grow strong. - - We are losing our great men. Into the earth - They are borne; also our warriors; - Also our women, and our grandchildren as well; - So that in the midst of blood - We are sitting. Now therefore, we say, - Unite, wash the blood stains from our seat, - So that we may be for a time strong and overruling. - -The chant died away. The priest disappeared. The chieftain whom Jack -had guessed was Tecumseh arose and strode forward till he stood close -above the embers of the dying fire. Round about the circle his fierce -eyes swept; for an instant they rested on Jack’s face, lighting up, -perhaps with recognition; then they swept on till they met those of the -British general. - -“We meet here between the camps of the redcoats and the red men,” he -said. “We meet to talk of what has been and of what is to be. Many -moons ago the great white king across the sea sent word to us to lift -the hatchet and to strike the Americans. He sent us word that he would -never desert us; that he would give us back our ancient lands; that he -would not make peace and abandon us to the vengeance of the Seventeen -Fires. We dug up the hatchet. We fought long and hard. Again and again -we won for the great king victories that without us would have been -defeats. In every struggle we bore the sweat of the fight. When the -Long Knives came to Fort Malden we wished to strike them and send them -howling back. But the white chief said no, and we obeyed. Again and -again he forced us to retreat, always against our will. Now he wishes -to retreat once more. I ask him if this is not true.” - -General Proctor did not rise. He looked sullen and careworn. “We must -retreat,” he declared, irritably. “The Americans outnumber us. We can -not stand against them here.” - -“And what of the red men?” Tecumseh’s tones grew chill. “Our villages -have gone up in smoke. Our women and children hide in the forests. -Winter is coming on quickly. We can not take to the waters like fish, -nor live in the forests like wolves, nor hide in the mud of the swamps -like snakes. Either we must meet the Long Knives and drive them back -or make peace with them and save what is left to us. The white chief -shall not retreat.” - -General Proctor shrugged his shoulders. “The white chief must retreat. -Later----” - -“There will be no later. The white chief shall not live to retreat. -Either he must fight the Americans or he must fight Tecumseh and his -men. The scalps of the white chief and his soldiers are still upon -their heads. Let him look to it that tomorrow they are not carried as -an offering to the chief of the Seventeen Fires.” - -Proctor sprang to his feet. He was shaking from head to foot, but -whether from anger or from fear Jack could not tell. Several times he -tried to speak and each time his voice failed. At last the words came. -“Does not my red brother know why we retreated?” he cried. “Does he not -know that it was because our red allies melted away from us, leaving -us outnumbered by the men of the Seventeen Fires. Even while I speak -other warriors are slipping away in the night to make peace with the -Americans. The servants of the great king are brave and strong. But -they are too few to fight alone. If my red brother can hold his men, -we need not retreat farther. We will meet the Americans and drive them -back as we have driven them so often before. Let my brother speak.” - -Tecumseh bowed. “My brother is wrong,” he declared. “The red men have -not deserted. Nearly all of them are here, ready to fight. It is the -white men who would retreat. If my brother will fight, the red men will -do their part. I offer him my hand upon it.” He stepped forward and -held out his hand. - -General Proctor took it. “It is well,” he said. “Tomorrow we will -fight. Now break up the council.” - -Tecumseh waved his hand. The warrior at the witch-drum began to beat, -tump-a-tump, tump-a-tump. From the crowding braves rose a chant, low at -first, but swiftly gaining volume. - - Look down, oh! gods, look upon us! We gaze afar on your dwelling. - Look down while here we are standing, look down upon us, ye mighty! - Ye thunder gods, now behold us! - Ye lightning gods, now behold us! - Ye that bring life, now behold us! - Ye that bring death, now behold us! - Aid us and help us. For we fight for thee. - -Loud and wild swelled the chant, the ritual of the tribesmen. Then -it slowly died away. The ranks of standing warriors dissolved and -vanished. The white men marched away, General Proctor at their head. -Jack rose to follow, but as he did so his arms were grasped on either -side and he was held powerless. “White man stop,” muttered a gutteral -voice in his ear. “Tecumseh speak with him.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - - -THE council had sat long. When it rose the sky was pink with dawn, and -the velvety black pall that had edged the clearing had changed into -ranked trees and underbrush. The swampy floor beneath lay dull, save -where some lost pool gleamed suddenly silver. Azure mists curled softly -upward. To the east, beyond the edge of the woods, the broad meadow -glittered with the sparkling dew-jewels left by the parting night. Far -to the left a gleam of broken silver showed where the Thames river -rolled. - -The spot, as Tecumseh had said, was between the Indian and the British -lines. It lay just behind the apex of an obtuse angle, one leg of which -ran along the edge of a fringe of beech trees wherein the British were -entrenched. The other leg bordered the narrow marsh where the Indians -waited. Neither woods nor swamp were deep nor dense. Behind them the -light gleamed through glades that gave upon the open country. - -Jack made no attempt to escape. He knew it would be useless. Besides, -he was minded to play the game out. He had come for his wife, and, now -that day had come, he could not hope to find her save by Tecumseh’s -aid. This he determined to invoke; and this, in spite of the deadly -peril, he welcomed the chance to invoke. After all, he had come to Ohio -by Tecumseh’s invitation. He had some rights which even a savage must -respect. Almost eagerly he stepped toward the place where Tecumseh -waited. - -Abruptly the red chief raised his hand and the iron arms of the two -braves caught Jack and dragged him back. At another gesture they -stepped before him, screening him from the sight of an officer, clad in -the red coat of the British, who was striding into the circle. - -Swiftly the officer came on, and Jack saw that he was Brito Telfair. -Close to Tecumseh he halted, and without salutation or formality he -spoke. - -“Is Tecumseh a coward that he needs the help of squaws?” he demanded, -hotly. “Will he keep the daughter of Delaroche here during the battle? -Or will he send her away?” - -Tecumseh’s face darkened. His hand sprang to the hatchet at his belt. -If Brito saw it, he did not heed. - -“In an hour a wagon with wounded starts to the rear,” he said. “Send -the girl with it. If we win today you can find her again and protect -her. If we lose she will be safe. Send her away, I beg of you.” - -Abruptly the man’s voice broke. “You needn’t fear me,” he said. “I -can’t leave here, and you know it. But--but a battle is no place for a -woman! Send her where she will be safe.” - -Tecumseh’s lips moved. “I will consider,” he promised. “Go now and -return within an hour. Perhaps I will let the Star maiden go.” - -Brito nodded and turned away. As he went Jack felt the iron grip of the -braves tighten upon his arms, forcing him forward. - -He went willingly enough. He had learned that Alagwa was there, in the -camp, and he swore to himself that not Tecumseh nor Brito nor all the -devils from h--l should prevent his reaching her. - -Coolly he faced the red chieftain. “The great chief came to me far in -the south,” he said, deliberately. “He called me and I came a long -trail to meet him. He did not wait for me, and I have followed him here -to receive from him the Star maiden, my kinswoman, the daughter of -Delaroche. Will the great chief send for her?” - -Long Tecumseh stared the young man in the face. At last his lips moved. -“The young white chief is brave,” he said. - -Jack shrugged his shoulders. He had spoken as he did in the hope of -startling his captor. He had no intention of pushing the pretense too -far. “The white chief seeks his wife,” he said, deliberately. “He -believes she is in Tecumseh’s camp. He comes to demand her.” - -Tecumseh’s face grew even grimmer. “Does the white chief come for that -alone?” he asked. “Or does he come to spy out the camp of his foes? -Make answer, Te-pwe, he who speaks true.” - -Jack looked the chief in the eyes. He knew that deception was useless -and he was in no mood to try it. “Tecumseh may judge for himself,” he -said. “Let the great chief do with me as he will. But first let him -tell me whether my wife is with him and whether she is safe.” - -Tecumseh’s brows went up. “Why need the white chief seek his wife,” he -demanded. “What wrong has he done her that she has fled from him?” - -Jack shrugged his shoulders. “I have done her no wrong,” he said. “Why -she has left me I do not know. I was ill and when I recovered she had -gone with emissaries sent by Tecumseh. Perhaps she went because he sent -for her. Perhaps she went because her ears were filled with lies. Much -I have guessed but little do I know. Perhaps the great chief knows -better than I why she went.” - -Tecumseh did not answer at once. His fierce eyes bored into Jack’s -as though they would read the young man’s soul. Jack thought his -expression was softer, but when he spoke his voice was as chill as ever. - -“Ten years and more ago,” he said, “when the chief Delaroche lay dying -I gave him my word that if the need ever came I would put his daughter -in the care of his kinsmen in the far south and not in that of his -English kinsmen. Years went by and the call came. The chief Brito -demanded her. He was a redcoat chief, an ally of Tecumseh, and you were -an enemy. He was a strong man and a warrior and you were a boy. Had it -not been for my word to my friend I would have given her to him gladly. -But the word spoken to the dead comes not back. Therefore I sought you -out and bade you come for the girl. I waited long, but you did not -come. Once more I tried to keep my word to my friend. I sent the girl -south, into your lines. I thought she would find you and she did. For -days she travelled with you. I had kept my word to my dead friend.” - -The day was brightening fast. The sky had grown brilliant with pink, -and scarlet, and saffron. The sun thrust himself above the rim of the -world and sent long lances of light shimmering through the damp air. -The trees burned red against the horizon; the wet underbrush glistened -like precious stones. - -Tecumseh’s voice changed. For the moment it had grown softer, but now -it grew chill as death. “Then suddenly,” he said, “she came back to me. -She thought that I had sent for her. I had not. Those who told her so -were liars bought by the gold of Brito. Nevertheless I had kept my word -and I was free to give her where I would. Gladly would I have given her -to Brito. But she said she was your wife, wedded to you by the white -man’s law. She said she would die before she would go to Brito. She -begged me to protect her. - -“I did protect her. I did not understand. So I protected her until I -could understand. She had not left you merely because she thought I -had sent for her. Do I not know her and her sex? She loved you and -she would not have left you at my call. A thousand times I might have -called and she would not have come. Some other cause she had. What was -it?” - -Jack shook his head. “I do not know,” he said. “Some talk there was -about a letter that came to me at the instant of my marriage. I know -nothing of it. I do not even remember that it came. When I fell, -stricken by my old wound, I dropped it and an enemy of mine picked it -up and read something from it. I do not know what it was--what it could -have been. I do not even know that Alagwa heard it. I speak of it only -because I know of no other cause. Has she not told you why she left?” - -“She has told me nothing. She denied that you had wronged her. She -swore that your heart was good toward her. But I did not believe her. -When a woman loves she will go down to the gates of h--l to bring up -lies to shield her beloved. I did not believe her. But she was the -daughter of my friend and to me it fell to right her wrongs, to do -justice on her foes. I would not give her to the redcoat chief so long -as you lived. I would not slay unjustly. Therefore I gave orders to -take you alive that I might question you. Others also I sought to -capture, learning little by little what part they had in my daughter’s -wrongs. One by one I have gathered up the threads and woven them into -the bow-string of my vengeance. At the last you have come into my hand -like a bird to a trap. Now, all is ready. Tomorrow may be Tecumseh’s -last on earth. But tonight he has power and will do justice.” - -The speaker gestured and a warrior who stood by handed a blanket to -Jack. “Wrap yourself,” ordered the chief, “and sit beside the fire. -Hide your face and speak not till I give you leave.” - -Greatly wondering, Jack obeyed. Nothing that Tecumseh said gave him -hope, though the fact that the chief had said anything at all carried -some little comfort. Very clearly Tecumseh would have been glad to give -Alagwa to Brito, and very dearly he had only to take Jack’s forfeited -life to make it easy to carry out his wishes. On the other hand if he -meant to kill he could do so with fewer words. With mingled hope and -fear the American waited. - -The crackling of brush beneath a hurrying tread came to his ears and he -looked up. - -Through the woods a slim, young girl was coming swiftly. A moment more -and Alagwa stepped into the circle of the clearing and bowed before the -great chief. “My father has sent for me,” she said. “I have come.” - -Jack’s heart beat fiercely within him. This was not his comrade of the -trails nor was it she whom he had seen for a few brief moments on that -eventful night eight months before. Gone were the mannish garments in -which he had best known her. Gone also was the white woman’s dress -in which she had looked so fair. In their place she wore the doeskin -garb of an Indian maid, draped about the shoulders with a blanket. The -strained look of anxiety had gone from her eyes, giving place to a -sorrow too deep for words. Jack’s heart throbbed with desire to leap to -his feet and catch her in his arms. But, mindful of Tecumseh’s words, -he waited. - -The great chief did not delay. “A year ago,” he said, “Alagwa came to -Tecumseh, leaving the American chief to whom he had sent her. Tecumseh -would have given her to his ally Brito. But she swore that she was -married and that she loved her husband. Tecumseh would not take back -his gift to the American chief unless it were flung in his teeth. -Alagwa would tell him nothing. Therefore he has found out for himself. -Little by little he has learned all her story. Tonight he is ready to -do justice. Daughter of Delaroche! Tecumseh’s hatchet lies beneath your -hand to strike whom you will. The young white chief is in his power. -Shall he slay him?” - -The girl’s face whitened. She took a step backward, catching at her -heart. “Jack!” she whispered. “Jack! He is here?” - -“He is here. What shall Tecumseh do with him? Shall he send him to the -stake?” - -The girl’s lips parted; her eyes widened with horror. Then she dropped -upon her knees at Tecumseh’s feet. “No! No!” she gasped. “Oh! God! Not -that! Tecumseh will not, shall not, do that. If ever Tecumseh loved -Alagwa let him hear her prayer. Let the young white chief go and send -Alagwa to the stake in his place.” - -“But he wronged you.” - -“He wronged me not. He was ever good and kind. He wronged me not.” The -words were a wail. “Believe me, great chief!” - -Relentlessly Tecumseh faced her down. “Why then did you leave him?” he -demanded. - -“Because he loved me not. He never pretended to love me. He married me -to save my good name. I--I--” The girl gasped, then went proudly on--“I -loved him and I thought his heart was free. So I married him. Then at -the moment came a letter from his home by the far southern seas. He -read it, his eyes widened with horror, and he fell senseless. As I bent -over him a man standing near caught up the letter and read from it that -the maid he had loved was free and was calling for him. Then I knew why -he looked at me as he did. He did not mean to do it. He was too good, -too kind, too noble. He would never have looked at me so again. But I -had learned the truth. He had no place for me in his life or his heart. -The surgeon at the fort said he would soon recover. I thought you had -sent for me. So I left him to come to you. Nothing else was left. But -he did me no wrong. He did me no wrong. He did me no wrong--” The -girl’s voice died away in inarticulate murmurs. - -The woods had grown very still. The dead leaves rustled along the -ground and the saplings murmured as they trembled in the caress of the -vagrant breeze. But no man moved or spoke. - -Crouching upon the ground Alagwa waited, looking up at Tecumseh with -beseeching eyes. - -Jack groaned as he watched the anguish that marred the exquisite oval -of her face, stealing the color from her cheeks and leaving them pallid -against the brown background of the woods. But he was very sure that -Tecumseh was not acting without a cause, and he dared not speak lest he -should spoil some well-laid plan. - -Slowly Tecumseh spoke. “Alagwa knew not the writing of the white man,” -he said. “Lately she has learned it, but then she knew it not. How -knows she that the man read with a true tongue? How knows she that he -did not lie? Was he so great a friend of hers?” - -Alagwa sprang to her feet. Her hands tightened till the knuckles -gleamed white in the morning light. “Friend!” she gasped. “He was -no friend. He was an enemy. It was he who murdered Wilwiloway.” She -paused; then--“Did--did he lie? Oh! God! Did he lie?” - -“Perhaps!” Tecumseh pointed to a place on his left. “Let my daughter -sit beside me and hide her face in her blanket and keep silence till -Tecumseh bids her speak.” - -Alagwa sat down. As she did so her eyes fell on the draped figure -at the great chief’s right. From its folds two eyes gleamed at her, -signalling a message of comfort and of love. Telepathy was far in the -future--its very name was yet unborn--but the girl read the message and -was comforted. - -Then she straightened up with a gasp. Williams, under guard, had come -through the woods and stood before the great chief. Jack remembered -that he had been missing since the massacre at the River Raisin. - -The man’s face was drawn and pale. Clearly, his captivity had not been -light. Round him he glanced with quick, furtive eyes, seeking hope and -finding none. - -Long Tecumseh stared him in the eyes. At last he stretched out his -hand, holding a soiled and deeply creased letter. “This was taken from -you when you were captured,” he said. “Read it aloud. And take care you -read it true.” - -Williams’s eyes narrowed. Despite the chilliness of the dawn, beads of -perspiration crept out upon his forehead. Furtively he looked around -him, as if fearing to see some accuser. Then he took the letter and -stared at it. - -“Read!” thundered the chieftain. “Read! And read true!” - -Williams moistened his dry lips. At last he spoke. “I don’t know how to -read,” he mumbled. - -Jack leaned forward, every nerve tense. He did not need to be told -that the letter was the one he had lost, the one from which Williams -had read the words that had sent his bride of an hour fleeing into -the night. Some disclosure was coming; he read it in the trader’s -frightened eyes and in Tecumseh’s deadly mien. What would it be? His -blood ran cold as he waited. - -Chill as death came the great chief’s voice. “Surely the white man -errs,” he said. “A year ago he read from this very letter a message -from a maid dwelling in the far south.” - -Williams’s courage deserted him. His whole figure seemed to crumple. -Clearly he remembered that the Shawnees were Alagwa’s friends. “I -didn’t read nothin’,” he whined. “I was only jokin’. That fellow Jack -done me a dirty trick and he hit me when I wasn’t lookin’ and I wanted -to get even. I reckoned he had a sweetheart down south and I made up -something about her and let on that it was in the letter. I didn’t mean -no harm. I reckoned he’d get well and read the letter and make it all -right with the girl. How was I to know she’d run off right away?” - -“You cur!” Heedless of Tecumseh’s possible wrath Jack hurled himself -at the trader. But before his gripping fingers could fasten upon the -other’s throat the two braves stepped between, forcing him backward. A -second later Alagwa slipped to his side and clasped his hand in hers. - -Absorbed in the scene none saw Brito Telfair come through the woods -to the edge of the clearing and stand there, watching the scene with -gleaming eyes. - -Meanwhile Tecumseh was speaking. “Tecumseh does not kill prisoners,” -he said. “He challenges any white man to say that he has ever taken -vengeance on the helpless. He has spared even snakes in the grass, -lying and treacherous. But, like the chiefs of all nations, Tecumseh -punishes murder.” He turned to Williams. “You dog,” he grated. “A -year ago you murdered Wilwiloway, friend of Tecumseh. You shot him -down without cause, in cold blood, when he was making the peace sign. -For that I have doomed you. I have let you live only that you might -say what you have said today. Now you die.” He waved his hand to the -guards. “Take him away,” he ordered. “Let his end be swift.” - -The guard closed in, but the doomed man flung himself at Jack’s feet. -“For God’s sake don’t let them kill me!” he screamed. “For God’s sake!” -He clutched at Jack’s feet. “Here’s your letter,” he jabbered, forcing -it into the other’s hand. “You can show it to her and make everything -right. But for God’s sake save me. You’re a white man, not an Injun. -Save me! Don’t let these devils murder me.” - -Jack’s fury died. The indefinable bond between white and white, the -bond that has lifted the race above all other races of the world, -tugged at him. After all, Williams was a white man; murderer though -he was, he was a white man. Forgetful that he too was a prisoner, a -detected spy, Jack turned to the chief. - -But before he could speak Tecumseh raised his hand. “Tecumseh does -justice,” he said. “He does it both to his foes and to his friends. The -wrong this man did to Alagwa has been healed. But the wrong he did to -Wilwiloway has not been paid. He is a murderer; he will die for it.” He -waved his hand. “Take him away,” he ordered. - -The guards plucked Williams from the ground and marched away with him. - -Then Brito came forward, jauntily. He glanced at Jack, and triumph -shone in his eyes. - -“Great is Tecumseh’s justice,” he said. “Confidently I appeal to it.” - -Not a muscle in the chief’s face changed. “Let the servant of the -white king speak,” he directed, calmly. - -Brito’s eyes grew steely. “The hour that Tecumseh fixed has passed,” -he said. “I came back to receive his word. I find with him an American -dog, dressed in the coat of the King’s soldiers. Either he comes as a -spy, whose life is forfeit, or he comes to offer Tecumseh the price of -treachery, to buy him to desert the King and join the Americans. Which -is it? If he comes as a spy I demand in the King’s name that Tecumseh -surrender him to me to be dealt with as a spy. If he comes to buy -Tecumseh let the red chief declare himself now.” - -Brito spoke boldly. Whatever his faults he was no coward. Unflinchingly -he gazed into Tecumseh’s eyes. - -Jack’s heart sank. Every word that Brito said was true. By all the -laws of war his life was forfeit. If the Englishman had not appeared -Tecumseh might have spared him for Alagwa’s sake. But would he dare to -spare him now and let himself rest under the imputation of treachery -that Brito had hurled into his teeth? Jack doubted it greatly. But he -strove to meet his enemy’s eyes composedly and not to betray the terror -with which he waited. - -He had not long to wait. Deliberately the red chief ignored Brito’s -accusation. Coolly he answered. “Captain Telfair asks justice,” he -said, slowly. “He shall have it. But the American chief shall have it -also. He came to Tecumseh’s camp to demand his wife. Tecumseh will not -slay him or let him be slain. He has need of him. He will send him back -to his own people with a message to the chief of the Seventeen Fires.” - -Hand in hand Jack and Alagwa waited. They spoke no words; they needed -to speak none. They looked each other in the eyes and were content. - -Tecumseh went on slowly. “Tecumseh kept his word once to his dead -friend,” he said. “He is under no pledge to give the Star maiden to the -American chief again. But”--the chief paused: slowly his eyes traversed -the startled group--“but he may take her himself if he dares and if -he can. The Star maiden shall go now, at once, in the British chief’s -wagon, to the rear. There she will wait.” - -The chieftain paused and pointed upward to the sun, which was just -climbing above the tops of the trees. Then he faced Jack. - -“The day passes swiftly,” he said. “Go back to your general and tell -him that Tecumseh sends him greeting as one brave man to another and -challenges him to combat. Tell him that the redcoats and red men are -united and wait to give him battle. Tell him that--tell him what you -will. You can tell him nothing but what Tecumseh wishes him to know. -But tell him to hasten. Your way to the Star maiden lies across my -lines. Till sunset Tecumseh will protect her. Afterwards, you must -protect her yourself. If you pass our lines you may clasp her in your -arms before the sun sets. I have spoken! Go!” - -Brito had listened in silence. He attempted no protest. He made no -further accusation of treachery. Instead, he bowed. “I am stationed at -the very center of the British part of our lines, my dear cousin,” he -said; “I will await you there. Fail not--or it will be I who will clasp -the Star maiden in my arms this night.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV - - -TECUMSEH had chosen well the ground where he had forced Proctor to -stand at bay. The River Thames, running between high precipitous banks, -protected his left flank, and a great marsh nearly parallel to the -river protected his right. He could be reached only by a direct frontal -attack, during which the Americans would be continually under fire. -Midway between river and swamp was a smaller swamp, almost impassable. -The only road ran close along the river; the rest of the space between -swamp and river was a park-like expanse thinly set with great trees, -beech, sugar maple, and oak. Beneath them the ground was bare, save -where trees had fallen. Any enemy who might advance across it must -infallibly have his columns broken and would yet be exposed to volley -fire, against which the trees would offer little or no protection. - -Beyond this park, at the edge of a thicket of beech, the British -regulars were posted on a line running from the river to the smaller -swamp. Their artillery was placed so as to sweep the river road. -Tecumseh and his warriors held the line between the two swamps and -along the front of the larger swamp, ready to pour an enfilading fire -on the American flank and to charge upon its rear the moment it -pressed too far forward in its attack. One false move, one error, and -the disaster of the River Raisin might be repeated. But this time a -real soldier was in command. - -It was long past noon when the American regiments swung out of the -underbrush that had screened their movements onto the broad park-like -expanse that rolled to the edge of the beech wood and the swamp where -their foes waited. - -Over the sun-drenched fields and through the pleasant woods they held -their way, thrashing through the tall grass, crushing the underbrush -beneath their columned tread. Their slanting flags, whipping in the -rising breeze, revealed the stripes and the soaring stars and flaunted -the regimental symbols. On the right were the regulars of the 25th -infantry, one hundred and twenty strong, grim, well-drilled men who -marched with a precision not found among the volunteers. In the center -and on the left were the Kentucky volunteers, headed by Johnson’s -cavalry, burning to avenge the butchery of their kindred at the River -Raisin. Above them the bayonets flashed back the sunlight. - -Steadily they advanced. The distance was still too great for musketry -fire, but it was lessening every instant. The British howitzers, too, -were waiting, masked behind their leafy screen. - -A far-off report broke the silence. A mound of white erected itself at -the end of the river road and a howitzer ball hummed along it. Along -the edge of the beech wood ran the crackle of small arms. From the -swamp on the left came the enfilading fire of the Indians. A private -in Desha’s regiment fell forward and lay upon his face, motionless. A -sergeant a hundred feet away doubled up with a grunt. - -Steadily the volunteers swung forward to where the westering sun shone -red across the red and yellow carpet that autumn’s winds had strewn. -As they marched they sang, at first low, then with a swing that rose -terribly to the skies: - - Scalps are bought at stated prices, - Proctor pays the price in gold. - Freemen, no more bear such slaughters, - Rouse and smite the faithless foe. - -Most of the victims of the River Raisin had been Kentuckians; it was -meet and proper that Kentuckians should avenge them at the Thames. - -Jack was far in advance of the troops. Familiar with the ground from -his adventure of the night before, he knew where to look for the -enemy’s lines and could venture nearer to them than any other scout. He -had left his horse behind, well out of danger, and had crept forward on -foot, closer and closer, determined to learn in what order the British -designed to meet the attack. Nearer and nearer he crept, flat on the -ground, worming his way. At last, beneath the shadow of the trees he -saw the crossed white on red that marked the British soldiers. Detail -after detail he noted; then, when a bugle at the rear told him that the -Americans were advancing, he began to worm backward. - -At his horse at last, he leaped to the saddle and drove the spurs deep, -heading for the spot where the ringing bugle was sounding the advance. - -General Harrison, surrounded by his staff, stood watching. “Now’s the -time,” he muttered. “Trumpeter! Sound the----” He broke off, as a scout -came dashing toward him. - -It was Jack. “General!” he clamored. “They’re in two lines in open -order.” - -Harrison started. “In open order!” he cried. “You’re mad.” - -“No! It’s true! I’ve been within a hundred yards of them. It’s true! I -swear it.” - -Another horseman wearing the shoulder straps of a major dashed up. -“General!” he cried. “They’re in open order. I’ve just----” - -“Enough!” Harrison spun around. “By God! We’ve got them! Mr. Telfair, -tell Colonel Johnson my orders are to charge home.” He swung around. -“Major Wood, tell Colonel Trotter the plans have been changed. Colonel -Johnson will attack on horseback and the infantry will support him. Go!” - -Ten minutes later the Kentucky cavalry rode into the narrowing neck -between the river and the small swamp. As they crowded in, the -space grew too small for effective manœuvres. Colonel R. H. Johnson, -afterward to be elected vice-president of the United States, rode -at the head of the left-hand squadron, naked saber resting against -his shoulder. He noticed the constriction and called to his brother, -commanding the right-hand column. “Say, Jim,” he cried. “You handle the -British. I’ll cross the swamp and tackle Tecumseh.” He turned to his -men. “Column left,” he ordered. - -Jack, defiant of the rule that bade him rejoin General Harrison, once -his message had been delivered, had followed close at Colonel Johnson’s -heels. Now, he sped across to those of Lieutenant-Colonel James Johnson. - -“Attention!” James’s voice rang above the thudding hoofs. “By troops! -Right front into line. March.” - -The shimmering column broke up, dividing into four. “Forward! Steady! -Right dress. Forward!” Quickly the orders followed. - -James faced about. “Advance rifles,” he ordered; and the muskets -rattled as they fell into position. - -The woods in front were veiled in smoke. The rattle of small arms was -incessant. The screech of bullets filled the air. Here and there a man -fell forward, clutching at his horse’s neck. Here and there one swayed -and crashed to the ground. Over all the sunlight pulsed in bands of -fire. - -Coolly James’s voice arose. “Hold your fire till you can see the whites -of their eyes,” he ordered. “Then give ’em h--l.” He waved his sword. -“Forward! Gallop!” he cried. - -The pace quickened. The ground was becoming more open and the enemy’s -bullets were coming faster. But the Americans did not fire. They could -not see the foe in the tangled thicket ahead of them, and they had no -shots to waste. - -“Form for attack! By fours! Right front into line! March!” - -The columns broke up, changing, as if by magic, into a long double line -of horsemen, galloping toward the smoking woods. - -“Forward! Remember the Raisin! Charge!” - -The trumpets sounded and from the crowding horsemen rose a yell. -“Remember the Raisin;” loud and thrilling the cry echoed back from the -woods. The horses sprang forward, furious with the battle clangor. - -Still the Americans did not fire. Their first weapon was the running -horse; against the enemy’s lines they hurled him. Later they would use -their muskets and the long pistols that hung at their belts. - -At the front rode Johnson. Neck and neck with him rode Jack, heading -for the very center of the British line. Not for all the devils in -h--l would he have fallen back an inch. - -For a moment blinding smoke filled his eyes. Right and left ran the -red flash of the British rifles. Then he was among the trees, plunging -through a line of redcoated men, who reeled and ran, throwing down -their guns as they went. “Quarter! Quarter!” The cry rang loud above -the crash of falling arms. - -Jack did not heed it. A second line, fringed with flames, was rising -behind the first. Midway of it, through the smoke, he saw Brito’s face. -At it he drove. “Wait for me,” he yelled. - -But Brito did not wait. Before the rush of the maddened horses the -second line was breaking up, dissolving into fragments. To wait was -to surrender or to die, and Brito had no mind for either. Probably he -did not hear Jack’s challenge. Certainly he did not wait. As the line -dissolved he turned and fled, bending low upon his horse’s neck. - -Jack glanced neither to the right nor to the left. His eyes were fixed -only on his foe. For an instant the roar of battle rose around him. -Rifles flashed in his face. Men struck at him with sabers and clubbed -guns. Then he was out of the ruck, crashing through the autumn woods. -Saplings lashed at him with stinging strokes. Low-hung branches scraped -his horse’s back, dragging at him. Thickets, seemingly impassable, -broke before the impetus of his rush. Then, abruptly the roar of -battle died away. The flickering rifle flames vanished. - -Then far to his left a second roar arose; Jack did not know it, but it -was Colonel Johnson and his first squadron striking the Indian line, -and it sounded the knell of the great chief, Tecumseh. Jack paid no -attention to it; heart and soul alike were concentrated on the rider -whose red coat he saw far ahead through the packed woods. Recklessly he -spurred. - -After a time the woods opened and he saw his enemy clearer. He was -gaining rapidly, too rapidly. He was in no haste to bring his foe to -bay. His horse, a bright bay, bred in Kentucky and brought north with -Johnson’s regiment, had come through the short, sharp battle without -a wound and was in perfect condition, well rested, and capable both -of long pursuit and of extraordinary bursts of speed when need should -arise. He knew nothing of Brito’s horse, except the patent fact that it -was a big black that seemed to carry its heavy rider with ease, but he -had little doubt that his own was better. Almost at will he could close -in and sooner or later he meant to do so and to balance the long-due -account between himself and Brito. But he did not know where Alagwa -was. Brito did. Therefore Brito should lead him to her. - -For a long time he galloped on, keeping his distance behind the -fleeing Englishman, and availing himself of every bit of cover to -screen himself from observation, though he had little fear that Brito -would suspect his identity. He guessed, what he afterwards learned -to be a fact, that nearly all the British officers who possessed -horses were using them to escape; General Proctor, for instance, fled -sixty-five miles without a halt. If Brito should see him he was far -more likely to think him a brother officer and to halt and wait for him -than to suspect that an American had dared to venture so far behind the -British lines even after the destruction of the British army. - -The chase went on. The sun was dropping toward the west and dusk was -creeping over the brown fields and low tree-crowned sandy ridges. -Already a veil of deep blue shadow lay on the land. Soon it would be -night. The moon, high overhead, a pale ghost in the daylit sky, might -or might not illumine the darkness. Jack shook his reins and his bay -responded gloriously, cutting down by half the interval between himself -and Brito’s black. - -Steadily the fugitive drove on. Deserted farm-houses swept by; thickets -rose and passed; but he showed no signs of stopping. Anxiously Jack -glanced at the darkening west. Soon he must bring the other to bay or -risk losing him. Could he have judged wrong? Could Brito be merely -fleeing to save himself, careless of Alagwa? Could she be already far -behind? Jack’s heart sank at the thought. Should he close in and have -done with it? - -As he hesitated Brito turned abruptly aside, urging his horse toward -the crest of a low ridge that rose to the north. An instant later he -vanished into the fringe of trees that crowned it. - -Jack’s anxiety swelled uncontrollably. For the first time he used the -spur, and the bay responded nobly, turning into the narrow wood road -that Brito had followed and tearing up the slope and crashing into the -fringe of trees like a tornado. He, like his master, seemed to guess -that the long chase was nearing its end. - -Jack leaned forward, listening with all his ears. Sight no longer aided -him and he could depend only on hearing, and this availed him little. -The snapping branches, the hollow thunder of his horse’s hoofs, the -rustling of the night wind in the trees, the laboring breathing of his -own steed, drowned all more distant sounds. Jack set his teeth hard. - -Over the crest of the ridge he passed and thundered down the opposite -slope. Then in a moment the woods broke sharply off, opening to right -and to left, and he found himself on the edge of a wide, open space in -which stood a farmhouse. Before it, just drawing his horse to a halt, -was Brito. - -Jack halted, reining in and leaning forward, every nerve thrilling. -Was it the place? Had Brito led him true? - -A crowd of men and women came pouring from the farmhouse door. With -staring eyes Jack watched, counting them as they came. Two men, five -women, as many children, then--then--last of all came Alagwa. - -Jack shouted aloud--a great shout that startled the sleepy birds. He -had found her. His hour had come. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV - - -AT JACK’S shout Brito looked up. Then he, too, cried out and settled -himself back in the saddle. - -Slowly the two rode toward each other, pistols in hand. Between them -lay the hard-trampled level of the cattle yard. The sun had dropped -behind the trees; the moon had not yet gathered power; no confusing -shadows offered advantage to either. - -Suddenly Brito flung up his pistol and fired. Jack felt his hat torn -from his head and saw it go sailing to the ground. He threw up his -own pistol. Then he hesitated; Alagwa and the women and children were -directly behind his foe. He dared not fire. - -As he hesitated Brito flung down his useless pistol and spurred at him, -saber flashing as he came. Jack reined back; his horse reared, striking -with its hoofs, and Brito’s black shied to the left and rushed by, -Brito’s blade singing harmlessly in the air as he passed. - -The two men wheeled. They had changed places; Jack’s back was toward -the farmhouse. Again he raised his pistol. His finger curled about the -trigger. - -Brito paused and his face whitened. Then he cried out, jeering. -“Shoot, you cur!” he shrieked. “Shoot, you d--d American! Shoot an -unarmed man if you dare. No Englishman would take such an advantage. -This isn’t war; it’s a private quarrel. If you’re not all cur, if -there’s any Telfair blood in your veins, throw down that pistol and -fight on equal terms like a man.” - -Jack hesitated. Brito had had his shot and had missed. He was talking -merely to save his life; his taunts merited no consideration. Jack knew -well that he ought to shoot him down or take him prisoner. He knew that -the men at the farmhouse were against him. Nevertheless, Brito’s words -bit. - -He turned in his saddle. Alagwa was leaping to his side and to her he -handed the pistol. “Keep those others back,” he ordered swiftly. Then -he turned to face his foe. - -It was high time. Brito was coming straight for him. Barely he had time -to spur his horse aside and avoid the shock. As he leaped he heard -Brito shouting to the Canadians to shoot. - -Jack wheeled. The two Canadians had gone back into the farmhouse. Now -they were rushing out, muskets in hand. Then Alagwa’s pistol settled on -the foremost and he heard their guns crash to the ground. - -Jack saw red. For the first time in his life the rage to kill seized -him--a fierce, strong longing that shook him from head to foot, a -survival from the fierce, bitter primeval days when foes were personal -and hate was undiluted. He snatched at his blade and drew it from the -scabbard. - -“You d--d cur!” he rasped. “You coward! By God! You’ll pay now.” Wild -as he was, he was also cold as ice; in some men the two go together. - -Like most gentlemen of the day Jack had learned to use the foils and -even to some extent the saber. But all his training had been with -buttons, where to be touched meant merely the loss of a point on the -score. Never had he fought a duel or used a sword in anger, while Brito -had done both. To an outsider all the odds would have seemed to be with -the older man. - -But Jack did not think of odds. Like many men in the moment of extreme -peril, he felt supreme assurance that victory was to be his. Before him -stretched the vision of long years of life and happiness with Alagwa at -his side. The coming fight was a mere incident, not a catastrophe that -was to whelm him and her in ruin. Eagerly he spurred forward. - -The two horses crashed, rearing and biting, and over their heads the -swords of the riders clashed. Neither spoke. Neither had mind to speak -or even to think. Both fought grimly, terribly, well knowing that for -one the end was death. Stroke and parry, parry and stroke; hot and -swift the one followed the other. - -For the most part they fought at close quarters, but now and again -the horses carried them apart. At one such moment Jack glimpsed at -the farmhouse door and its group. The women had fled inside and were -peering from the windows; the children had disappeared altogether; the -two men, disarmed, stood backed against the wall, under Alagwa’s pistol. - -The crimson sunset had faded from the sky, but the half-moon was -glowing out, changing from its daylight sheen to a silver glory that -spilled like rain upon the shadowy world. By its gleam the fight went -on, minute after minute. - -At last Jack began to tire. His arms drooped and he began to fight on -the defensive. He was scarcely twenty-one; for twenty-four hours he had -not closed his eyes; for four days he had had little rest and little -food; for months he had been torn with anxiety, more wearing than any -exertion. Brito had suffered, too, but his stress had been national -rather than personal. His muscles were older and more seasoned, his -arms more sinewy. His attack showed no signs of slackening. - -Suddenly his eyes gleamed. He had noted Jack’s growing weakness. His -tongue began to wag. “You fool!” he hissed. “I told you to keep out of -my way. This is the end. Tonight--tonight----” - -He disengaged and thrust, his blade singing within a hair’s breadth of -Jack’s throat. He thrust again and the keen edge hissed through Jack’s -sleeve. Again he thrust, but this time Jack met him with a parry that -sent his blade wide. - -But the Englishman did not pause. His onslaught became terrible. His -sword became a living flame, circling, writhing, and hissing in the -moonlight. Slowly he forced the American backward. For the moment no -living man could have held ground against his fury. - -[Illustration: JACK TELFAIR AND CAPTAIN BRITO SETTLE THEIR DISPUTE] - -Then suddenly, when Jack thought he could sustain no more, the attack -slackened. Flesh and blood could not maintain its fury. Brito’s arm -flagged for a second, perhaps in order to deceive; then he thrust -again, upward, for the throat. Jack, worn out, took a desperate chance. -He did not parry with his blade; instead he threw up his hilt and -caught Brito’s point squarely upon the guard. A hair’s breadth to the -right or to the left and the other’s sword would have pierced his -throat. But that hair’s breadth was not granted. Brito’s blade stopped -short, bent almost double, and snapped short. Brito himself swayed -sideways, losing his balance for the moment. Before he could recover -Jack rose in his stirrups and brought his blade down with a sweeping -stroke against the bare, brown neck that for an instant lay exposed. -Deep the steel cut. Beneath it Brito stiffened; his sword dropped -from his hands; blood spouted from the severed veins; he swayed and -toppled--dead. - -Jack scarcely saw him fall. The earth swayed round him in a mighty -tourbillon; moon and stars danced in the sky in bewildering -convolutions; the primeval trees beside the farmhouse rocked, cutting -mighty zigzags across the milky-way. Half-fainting he clung to his -saddle, while beneath him the bay panted and wheezed, worn out by the -stress of the fight. - -Slowly the mists cleared. Out of them shone Alagwa’s face, white, -but glad with a great gladness. Behind her the two men, crouched -against the house, their staring, terror-filled eyes glistening in the -moonlight. - -Jack’s fingers wagged toward the muskets at their feet. “Give me those -guns,” he breathed. - -Alagwa obeyed silently. He was in the ascendant now. He was the -warrior; she the squaw, docile and obedient. Her hour would come later -and she was content to wait. - -The men shrank back as Jack took the guns, muttering pleas for mercy. -The women came stumbling from the house, shrieking. Jack did not heed -them. He fired the guns into the air; then smashed them against the -corner of the house. Then he turned to Alagwa and pointed to Brito’s -horse. “Come,” he ordered. “The fight is done. We must go.” - -Silently Alagwa mounted and silently the two rode up the slope, across -the moon-drenched woods upon the crest, and down the long backward -trail to where the British and Indian power had been shattered. - -Jack did not speak. He dared not. A sudden wondering panic had fallen -upon him. He had won his bride at last. He had won her with his heart; -he had earned her with his sword. He had shown her the thoughts of his -heart at dawn beside Tecumseh’s fire; he had shown her the work of his -sword at dusk beside the farmhouse. She was his; he had only to put out -his hand to claim her. - -But he did not dare. Love had throned her immeasurably above him. -Scarcely he dared look at her as she rode beside him in the white -moonlight, swaying to the rhythm of her horse’s pace, mystic, -strange--no woodland boy, no “sweet, gentle lady,” no Indian maid--but -all of these at once, all and more, a woman, his woman, his mate, born -for him, foreordained for him since the first dawn that had silvered -the world. Speechless he rode on, glancing at her from sidelong eyes. - -Alagwa, too, was silent, waiting. This was her hour, and she knew it. -But he must tell her--tell her what she already knew. Not one sweet -word of the telling would she spare him. And the worse he boggled the -telling the more she would love him. Love--woman’s love--pardons all -but silence. - -At last Jack found his tongue. He spoke hurriedly, gaspingly, trying -to hide the ferment of his soul. “The war here is over,” he said. “I -did not stay to see the end of the battle, but I know the British -power in the west is shattered. Most of the army will go home. And we -will go to Alabama. Father is waiting to welcome you. I wrote him of -you and he wrote me that if I did not bring you with me I might stay -away myself. You will like father. He is fierce, like yourself, and -tender-hearted, too--like yourself. Ah! Yes! You will like him and you -will like Alabama. Alabama! I told you once what the word meant. It’s -Creek: a-la-ba-ma, here we rest. There we will rest. Later we will go -to France to see your inheritance--yours no more. Father writes that -Napoleon has confiscated the Telfair estates. But we can spare them. -Cato will go with us--father writes that the two girls he humbugged -have husbands of their own and will not trouble him, and that the -third--the one he is fond of--is waiting for him. Rogers and Fantine -will make a match of it, I think. He says now that he likes to hear -women’s talk. Tecumseh--I do not know what his fate may be. But he -swore he would win or leave his bones on the field today--and he did -not win. I--I have read that letter; there was nothing in it--nothing. -I fainted because of my illness and not because of anything I read.” - -Jack’s voice died. He had run through his budget of news without -broaching the subject that lay so near his heart. Alagwa did not help -him. Silently she waited. - -The night was wearing on. The moon was sinking into the west. Its fairy -sheen lingered faintly on the trees and the grass and dusty road that -stretched through the dew-wet fields like a band of silver. High above, -the multitudinous stars blazed in the firmament. Silence reigned; no -cry of bird or beast sounded through the night; even the sound of the -horses’ hoofs was muffled in the soft dust. Like spirits the two rode -on through the enchanted silence. - -Then, in slow crescendo, the tinkle of a far-off brook blended softly -into the beauty of the night, blended so softly that its music seemed -the melody of tautened heart-strings. Slowly it grew till the stream -glanced suddenly out, dancing in the last rays of the setting moon. -Beyond it stretched an open space, floored with fallen leaves, ringed -with tall saplings, silver edged, through whose leafless tops the stars -shone faintly down. - -The path to the ford was narrow. The two horses crowded into it, -crushed their riders together, and at the touch Jack’s surcharged -heart found vent. “Alagwa! Alagwa!” he cried, brokenly; and again, -“Alagwa!” - -The girl swayed toward him. Her eyes, wet with unshed tears, gleamed -into his from beneath the dark masses of her tangled hair. Then, in a -moment his arms were round her and her head lay heavy on his breast. -The horses halted, bending their heads to the water that rippled about -their feet. - -Jack’s heart kindled in the swimming darkness. His pulse beat madly in -his throat. “Alagwa!” he gasped. “Alagwa! Friend! Comrade! Wife! I love -you so! I love you so!” - -“And I love you!” Like a great organ note the girl’s voice echoed -the avowal. “Ah! But you know it. You know I left you for your own -sake--for your own sake----” - -Closer and closer Jack drew her. The flood-gates of his speech were -broken up. Words, undreamed before, leaped to his lips. “I loved you -then,” he breathed. “I have loved you always. But the change from boy -to man came too suddenly. I did not know. I did not understand. It -took time--time and the touchstone of absence and peril and agony--to -teach me that I was a fool and mad and blind.” He broke off, laughing -with wonder. “Fool that I was to tell you that I was fond of you! Fool -to prate of friendship! Fool to match stilted periods when my every -fibre was thrilling, my every nerve quivering for you and you alone. -I knew it and yet I knew it not. I did not dream that it was love that -thrilled me. I did not know what love was. But now I know.” - -The horses raised their heads, whinnying. Slowly, high-stepping, they -splashed through the lambent waters of the ford and out upon the broad -bank. - -Jack leaped from the saddle and held up his arms for his bride. “We are -far from camp,” he said, “and it is dangerous to approach it from this -direction in the darkness. The horses are tired; the night is mild--and -far spent. Come, dear! Come! a-la-ba-ma; here we rest.” - - -FINIS - - - - -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: - - - Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_. - - Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. - - Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized. - - Archaic or variant spelling has been retained. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WARD OF TECUMSEH *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The ward of Tecumseh</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Crittenden Marriott</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Illustrator: Frank McKernan</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: September 26, 2022 [eBook #69052]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: D A Alexander, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WARD OF TECUMSEH ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter hide"><img src="images/coversmall.jpg" width="450" alt="" /></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<h1>THE WARD OF TECUMSEH</h1> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="bbox"> -<p class="ph1"><i>By CRITTENDEN MARRIOTT</i></p> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<div class="padding"> -<p class="ph1">SALLY CASTLETON,<br /> -SOUTHERNER</p> - -<p><i>Six Illustrations by N. C. Wyeth. $1.25 net.</i></p> - -<p>“A swiftly moving, entertaining tale<br /> -of love and daring secret service work.”</p> - -<p class="right">—<i>Chicago Record Herald</i></p> - -<p class="ph1">OUT OF RUSSIA</p> - -<p><i>Illustrated by Frank McKernan. $1.25 net.</i></p> - -<p>“There is everything that goes to make<br /> -up a story wholesomely exciting.”</p> - -<p class="right">—<i>The Continent, Chicago</i></p> - -<p class="ph1">THE<br /> -ISLE OF DEAD SHIPS</p> - -<p><i>Illustrated by Frank McKernan. $1.00 net.</i></p> - -<p>“Chapter after chapter unfolds new<br /> -and startling adventures.”</p> - -<p class="right">—<i>Philadelphia Press</i></p> -</div> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<p class="center"> -<span class="large">J. B. LIPPINCOTT CO.</span><br /> -PUBLISHERS     PHILADELPHIA<br /> - </p> -</div></div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_0"></span> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_frontispiece.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">ALAGWA COMES TO THE COUNCIL FIRE<br /> - -<span class="illoright"><i>Page <a href="#Page_304">304</a></i></span></p> -</div> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> -<div class="titlepage"> -<p class="ph2">THE WARD OF<br /> -TECUMSEH</p> - -<p>BY<br /> -<span class="large">CRITTENDEN MARRIOTT</span><br /> - -AUTHOR OF “SALLY CASTLETON, SOUTHERNER,” “THE ISLE OF DEAD<br /> -SHIPS,” ETC.</p> - -<p>WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY<br /> -<span class="large">FRANK McKERNAN</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_logo.jpg" alt="" /></div> - -<p>PHILADELPHIA & LONDON<br /> -<span class="large">J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY</span><br /> -1914</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="center"> -COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY CRITTENDEN MARRIOTT<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -PUBLISHED SEPTEMBER, 1914<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -PRINTED BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY<br /> -AT THE WASHINGTON SQUARE PRESS<br /> -PHILADELPHIA, U. S. A.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak">ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> -</div> - -<table> -<tr><td class="tdr" colspan="2"><span class="small">PAGE</span></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Alagwa Comes to the Council Fire</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_0"> <i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Alagwa, Being Wounded, is Rescued by Jack Telfair</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_80"> 80</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Alagwa Shoots Captain Brito</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_194"> 194</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Jack Telfair and Captain Brito Settle Their Dispute</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_330"> 330</a></td></tr> -</table> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span> - -<p class="ph2">THE WARD OF<br /> -TECUMSEH</p> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER I</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">WHEN the beautiful Sally Habersham accepted -Dick Ogilvie her girl associates -rejoiced quite as much as she did, foreseeing -the return to their orbits of sundry temporarily -diverted masculine satellites. Her mother’s -friends did not exactly rejoice, for Dick Ogilvie had -been a great “catch” and his capture was a sad -loss, but they certainly sighed with relief; for they -had always felt that Sally Habersham was altogether -too charming to be left at large. About the -only mourners were a score or so of young men, -whose hearts sank like lead when they heard the -news.</p> - -<p>The young men took the blow variedly, each according -to his nature. One or two made such a -vehement pretense of not caring that everybody decided -that they cared a great deal; two or three -laughed at themselves in the vain hope of preventing -other people from laughing at them; several -got very drunk, as a gentleman might do without -disgrace in that year of 1812; others hurriedly set<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span> -off to join the army of thirty-five thousand men -that Congress had just authorized in preparation -for the coming war with Great Britain; the rest -stayed home and moped, unable to tear themselves -away from the scene of their discomfiture.</p> - -<p>Of them all none took the blow harder than -Jaqueline Telfair, commonly known as Jack. Jack -was just twenty-one, and the fact that he was a full -year younger than Miss Habersham, had lain like a -blight over the whole course of his wooing. In any -other part of the land he might have concealed his -lack of years, for he was unusually tall and broad -and strong, but he could not do so at his home -in Alabama, where everybody had known everything -about everybody for two hundred years and more. -Still, Jack hoped against hope and refused to believe -the news until he received it from Miss Habersham’s -own lips.</p> - -<p>Miss Habersham, by the way, was not quite so -composed as she tried to be when she told him. -Jack was so big and fine and looked at her so -straight and, altogether, was such a lovable boy that -her heart throbbed most unaccountably and before -she quite knew what she was doing she had leaned -forward and kissed him on the lips. “Good-by, -Jack, dear,” she said softly. Then, while Jack -stood petrified, she turned and fled. She did not -love Jack in the least and she did love Dick Ogilvie,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span> -but—Oh! well! Jack was a gentleman; he would -understand.</p> - -<p>Jack did understand. For a few seconds he stood -quite still; then he too walked away, white faced and -silent.</p> - -<p>The next morning he went out to hunt; that is, -he took a light shot-gun and tramped away into -the half dozen square miles of tangled woodland that -lay at the back of the Telfair barony along the -Tallapoosa River. But as he left his dog and his -negro body-servant, Cato, at home, he probably -went to be alone rather than to kill.</p> - -<p>Spring was just merging into summer, and the -sun spots were dancing in the perfumed air across -the tops of the grasses. Great butterflies were -flitting over the painted buttercups and ox-eyed -daisies, skimming the shiny gossamers beneath -which huge spiders lay in wait. From every bush -came the twitter of nestlings or the wing flash of -busy bird parents. Squirrels, red and gray, flattening -themselves against the bark, peered round -the trunks of great trees with bright, suspicious -eyes. Molly cottontails crouched beneath the growing -brambles. Round about lay the beautiful woodland, -range after range of cobweb-sheeted glades -splashed with yellow light. Crisp oaks and naked -beeches, mingled with dark green hemlocks and -burnished quivering pines, towered above bushes of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span> -sumach and dogwood, twined and intertwined with -swift-growing dewberry vines. From somewhere on -the right came the sound of water rippling over a -pebbly bed.</p> - -<p>Abruptly Jack halted, stiffening like a pointer -pup, and leaned forward, gun half raised, trying to -peer through the sun-soaked bushes of the moist -glade. He had heard no sound, seen nothing move, -yet his skin had roughened just as that of a wildcat -roughens at the approach of danger. Instinct—the -instinct of one born and brought up almost -within sight of the frontier—told him that something -dangerous was watching him from the jungly -undergrowth before him. It might be a bear or a -wolf or a panther, for none of these were rare in -Alabama in the year 1812. But Jack thought it -was something else.</p> - -<p>He took a step backward, cocking his gun as he -did so and questing warily to right and to left.</p> - -<p>“Come out of those bushes and show yourself,” -he ordered sharply.</p> - -<p>From behind an oak an Indian stepped out, raising -his right hand, palm forward, as he came. In -the hollow of his left arm he carried a heavy rifle. -Fastened in his scalp-lock were feathers of the white-headed -eagle, showing that he was a chief.</p> - -<p>“Necana!” he said. “Friend!”</p> - -<p>Instinctively Jack threw up his hand. “Necana!” -he echoed. The tongue was that of the Shawnees.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span> -Jack had not heard it for ten years, not since the -last remnant of the Shawnee tribe had left the banks -of the Tallapoosa and gone northward to join their -brethren on the Ohio; but at the stranger’s greeting -the almost forgotten accents sprang to his lips. -“Necana,” he repeated. “What does my brother -here, far from his own people?”</p> - -<p>Wonderingly, he stared at the warrior as he -spoke. The man was a Shawnee; so much was certain, -but his costume differed somewhat from that -of the Shawnees to whom Jack had been accustomed, -and the intonation of his speech rang strange. -His moccasins, the pouch that swung to his braided -belt, all were foreign. His accent, too, was strange. -Moreover, though clearly a chief, he was alone instead -of being well escorted, as etiquette demanded. -Plainly he had travelled fast and long, for his naked -limbs were lean and worn, mere skin and bone and -stringy muscles. Hunger spoke in his deep-set eyes.</p> - -<p>At Jack’s words his face lighted up. Evidently -the sound of his own tongue pleased him. Across -his breast he made a swift sign, then waited.</p> - -<p>Dazedly Jack answered by another sign, the answering -sign learned long ago when as a boy he had -sat at a Shawnee council and had been adopted as -a member of the clan of the Panther.</p> - -<p>In response the savage smiled. “I seek the young -chief Telfair,” he said. “He whom the Shawnees -of the south raised up as Te-pwe (he who speaks<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span> -with a straight tongue). Knowest thou him, -brother?”</p> - -<p>Jack stared in good earnest. “I am Jack -Telfair,” he said, haltingly, dragging the Shawnee -words from his reluctant memory. “Ten years ago -the squaw Methowaka adopted me at the council -fire of the Panther clan.” He hesitated. Ten years -had blurred his memory of the ritual of the clan, -but he knew well that it required him to proffer -hospitality.</p> - -<p>“My brother is welcome,” he went on, stretching -out his hand. “Will he not eat at the campfire of -my father and rest a little beneath our rooftree?”</p> - -<p>The Shawnee clasped the hand gravely. “My -brother’s words are good,” he answered. “Gladly -would I stop with him if I might. But I come from -a far country and I must return quickly. I turn -aside from my errand to bring a message and a -belt to my brother.”</p> - -<p>From his pouch the chief drew a belt of beautiful -white wampum. “Will my brother listen?” he -asked.</p> - -<p>Jack nodded. “Brother! I listen,” he answered.</p> - -<p>“It is well! Many years ago a chief of the elder -branch of my brother’s house was the friend of -Tecumseh. They dwelt in the same cabin and -followed the same trails. They were brothers. Ten -years ago the white chief travelled the long trail -to the land of his fathers. But before he died he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span> -said to Tecumseh: ‘Brother! To you I leave my -one child. Care for her as you would your own. -Perhaps in days to come men of my own house may -seek her, saying that to her belong much land and -gold. If they come from the south, from the branch -of my house living in Alabama, at the ancient home -of the Shawnees, let her go with them. But if they -come from the branch of my house that dwells in -England do not let her go. The men of that branch, -the branch of the chief Brito, are wicked and vile, -men whose hearts are bad and who speak with forked -tongues. If they come for her, then do you seek -out my brothers in the south and tell them, that -they may take her and protect her. If they fail you -then let her live with you forever.’</p> - -<p>“Since the chief died ten years have passed, and -the maid has grown straight and tall in the lodge -of Tecumseh. Now the chief Brito has come, wearing -the redcoat of the English warriors. He speaks -fair, saying that to the maid belong great lands -and much gold and that he, her cousin, would take -her across the great water and give them into her -keeping. He is a big man, strong and skilful, to -all seeming a fit mate for the maiden. If his tongue -is forked, Tecumseh knows it not. But Tecumseh -remembers the words of his dead friend and wishes -not to give the maid up to one whom he hated. Yet -he would not keep her from her own. Therefore he -sends this belt to his younger brother, he of whom<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span> -his friend spoke, he whom the mother of Tecumseh -raised up as a member of the Panther clan, and says -to him: ‘Come quickly. The maid is of your house; -come and take her from my lodge at Wapakoneta -and see that she gets all that is hers.’”</p> - -<p>Jack took the belt eagerly. To go to the lodge of -Tecumseh to bring back a kinswoman to whom had -descended great estates and against whom foes—he -at once decided that they were foes—were plotting—What -boy of twenty-one would not jump at the -chance.</p> - -<p>And to go to Ohio—the very name was a challenge. -The Ohio of 1812 was not the Ohio of today, -not the smiling, level country, set with towns, crisscrossed -with railways, plastered with rich farms -where the harvest leaps to the tickling of the hoe. -It was far away, black with the vast shadow of -perpetual forests, beneath which quaked great -morasses. Within it roved bears, deer, buffalo, -panthers, venomous snakes, renegades, murderers, -Indians—the bravest and most warlike that the land -had yet known.</p> - -<p>Across it ran the frontier, beyond which all things -were possible. For thirty years and more, in peace -and in war, British officers and British agents had -crossed it and had passed up and down behind it, -loaded with arms and provisions and rewards for -the scalps of American men and women and children. -Steadily, irresistibly, unceasingly, the Americans<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span> -had driven back that frontier, making every fresh -advance with their blood, their sweat, and their -agony; and as steadily the redcoats had retreated, -but had ever sent their savage emissaries to do their -devilish work. Ohio had taken the place of Kentucky -as a watchword with the adventurous youth -of the east; to grow old without giving Ohio a -chance to kill one had become almost a reproach.</p> - -<p>Besides, war with Great Britain was unquestionably -close at hand. All over the country troops -were mustering for the invasion of Canada. General -Hull in Ohio, General Van Rensselaer at Niagara, -and General Bloomfield at Plattsburg were -preparing to cross the northern border at a moment’s -notice. In Ohio, Jack would be in the very -forefront of the fighting. Both by instinct and -ancestry the lad was a born fighter, always on tip-toe -for battle; he had shown this before and was -to show it often afterwards. But the last three -months had been an interlude, during which Sally -Habersham had been the one real thing in a world -of shadows. Now he had awakened. He would not -dream in just the same way again.</p> - -<p>With swelling heart he grasped the proffered -belt.</p> - -<p>“The maiden is white?” he questioned.</p> - -<p>“As thyself, little brother. She is the daughter -of Delaroche Telfair, the friend of Tecumseh, who<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span> -died at Pickawillany fifteen years ago. Moreover, -she is very fair.”</p> - -<p>The Indian spoke simply. He did not ask -whether Jack would come; the latter’s acceptance -of the belt pledged him to that course and to question -him further would be insulting. He did not ask -any pledge as to the treatment of the girl; apparently -he well knew that none was necessary.</p> - -<p>Jack considered. “I will find the maiden at -Wapakoneta?” he questioned.</p> - -<p>“If my brother comes quickly. My brother -knows that war is in the air. If my brother is slow -let him inquire of Colonel Johnson at Upper Piqua. -The maiden is known as Alagwa (the Star). Has -my brother more to ask?”</p> - -<p>Jack shook his head. If he held been speaking -to a white man he would have had a score of questions -to ask; but he had learned the Indian taciturnity. -All had been said; why vainly question -more?</p> - -<p>“No!” he answered. “I have nothing more to -ask. My brother may expect me at Wapakoneta as -quickly as possible. I go now to make ready.” He -did not again press his hospitality on the chief. -He knew it would be useless.</p> - -<p>The Shawnee bowed slightly; then he turned on -his heel and melted noiselessly into the underbrush.</p> - -<p>Jack stared after him wonderingly. Then he -stared at the belt in his hand. So quickly the chief<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span> -had come and so quickly he had gone that Jack -needed the sight of something material to convince -himself that he had not been dreaming.</p> - -<p>Not the least amazing part of the chief’s coming -had been the message he had brought. Jack had -heard of Delaroche Telfair, but he had heard of him -only vaguely. When his Huguenot forefathers had -fled from France, a century and a quarter before, -one branch had stopped in England and another -branch had come to America. The American -branch, at least, had not broken off all connection -with the elder titled branch of the family, which had -remained in France. Indeed, as the years went by -and religious animosities died out, the connection -had if anything grown closer. Communication -had been solely by letter, but it is not rare that relatives -who do not see each other are the better friends. -A hundred years had slipped by and then the Terror -had driven the Count Telfair and his younger -brother, Delaroche, from France. The count had -stayed in London and bye and bye had gone back -to join the court of Napoleon. But Delaroche had -shaken the soil of France from his feet and had -crossed to America with a number of his countrymen -and had founded Gallipolis, on the banks of the -Ohio, the second city in the state. Later he had -become a trader to the Indians and at last was -rumored to have joined the Shawnees. That had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span> -been fifteen years before and none of the Alabama -Telfairs had heard of him since.</p> - -<p>And now had come this surprising news. He was -dead! His daughter had been brought up by the -great chief Tecumseh and was nearly grown and was -the heiress of great estates. Brito Telfair—Jack -vaguely recalled the name as that of the head of the -branch that had stopped in England—sought to -get possession of her. Tecumseh liked him, but, -bound by a promise to the girl’s dead father, had -refused to give her up and had sent all the weary -miles from Ohio to Alabama to seek out the American -Telfairs and keep his pledge. More, he might -have long contemplated the necessity of keeping it. -It might have been at his suggestion that his mother, -Methowaka, who had been born in Alabama, at Takabatchi, -on the Tallapoosa River, not twenty miles -from the Telfair barony, had revisited her old home -about ten years before, shortly before her tribe had -gone north for good and all, and had “raised up” -Jack as a member of the great Panther clan.</p> - -<p>And now he had sent for him, sent for him over -nearly a thousand miles of prairie, swamp, and -forest, past hostile Indian villages and suspicious -white men. Jack thought of it and marvelled. Few -white men would do so much to keep a pledge to a -friend ten years dead!</p> - -<p>As he pondered Jack had been pacing slowly -homeward. At last he halted on a rustic bridge<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span> -thrown across a swift-flowing little creek that sang -merrily through the woodland. On the hill beyond, -at the crest of a velvety shadow-flecked lawn, rose -the white-stoned walls of the home where he had -been born and bred. Around it stretched acres of -field and orchard, vivid with the delicate blossoms -of apples and of plums, the pink-white haze of -peach, the light green spears of corn, and the darker -green of tobacco. Over his head a belted kingfisher -screamed, a crimson cardinal flashed like a -live coal from tree to tree, a woodpecker drummed -at a tree. Below flashed the creek, a singing water -pebbled with pearls. Jack did not see nor hear -them; arms on rail he stared blankly, pondering.</p> - -<p>A voice startled him and he swung round to face -his body-servant, Cato, a negro a few years older -than himself.</p> - -<p>Cato was panting. “Massa Colonel’s home, suh,” -he gasped. “An’ he want you, suh. He’s in a -pow’ful hurry.”</p> - -<p>Jack stared at the boy. “Father home!” he -exclaimed, half to himself. “I didn’t expect him -for hours.”</p> - -<p>“He’s done got home, suh. He ride Black Rover -most near to death, suh. Yes, suh! He’s in most -pow’ful hurry.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER II</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">COLONEL TELFAIR was striding excitedly -up and down the wide verandah, lashing as -he went at the tall riding boots he wore. His -plum-colored, long-skirted riding coat, his much-beruffled -white shirt, and his tight-fitting breeches -were dusty and spattered with dried mud. It needed -not the white-lathered horse with drooping head that -a negro was leading from the horseblock to show that -he had ridden fast and furiously.</p> - -<p>From one end of the porch to the other he strode, -stopping at each to scan the landscape, then restlessly -paced back again. A dozen negroes racing -in every direction confirmed the urgent haste that -his manner showed.</p> - -<p>Abruptly he paused as Jack, followed by Cato, -came hurrying up the drive. “Hurry, sir, hurry,” -he bawled. “Don’t keep me waiting all day.”</p> - -<p>Jack quickened his steps. “I didn’t know you -were back, father,” he declared, as he came close. -“I’m glad you are, sir. I’ve news, important news!”</p> - -<p>The elder Telfair scowled. “News, have you, -sir?” he rumbled. “So have I. Come inside, quick, -and we’ll exchange.” Turning, he led the way -through a deep hall into a great room, whose oak-panelled -walls were hung with full-length portraits -of dead and gone Telfairs—distinguished men and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span> -women whose strong faces showed that in their time -they had cut a figure in the world. There he faced -round.</p> - -<p>“Now, sir, tell your news,” he ordered. “I’ll -warrant it’s short and foolish.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps!” Jack grinned; he and his father -were excellent friends. “Did you know, sir, that -our kinsman, Delaroche Telfair, was dead, leaving -a daughter who is a ward of Tecumseh, the Shawnee -chief?”</p> - -<p>The elder Telfair blinked. “Good Lord!” he -said, softly. He tottered a step or two backward -and dropped heavily into a chair. “You’ve had a -letter, too?” he gasped.</p> - -<p>“A letter? No, sir; not a letter——”</p> - -<p>“You must have, sir. Don’t trifle with me! I’m -in no temper to stand it. Who brought you the -letter?”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t any letter, father. I haven’t heard of -any letter. I met an Indian——”</p> - -<p>“An Indian?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. A Shawnee from Ohio, a messenger from -Tecumseh——”</p> - -<p>“Tecumseh! Good Lord! Do you know—But -that can wait. Go on.”</p> - -<p>“Delaroche seems to have pledged him to call -on us in case certain things happened. They have -happened and he has sent. He wants me to come -and get the girl.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span>“Good God!” muttered the elder man once more. -“Look—look at this, Jack!” He held out an open -letter. “I got it at Montgomery, and I rode like -the devil to bring it, and here a murdering Shawnee -gets ahead of me and——” His words died away; -clearly the situation was beyond him.</p> - -<p>Jack took the letter doubtfully and unfolded it. -Then he looked at his father amazedly.</p> - -<p>“It’s from Capron, the lawyer for the Telfair -estates in France,” interjected the elder man. -“It’s in French, of course. Read it aloud! Translate -it as you go.”</p> - -<p>Jack walked to the window, threw up the blind, -and held the letter to the light.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“My very dear sir,” he read. “It is my sad duty -to apprise you that my so justly honored patron, Louis, -Count of Telfair, passed away on the 30th ultimo, -videlicet, December 30, 1811. The succession to the -title and the estate now falls to the descendants of his -brother, M. Delaroche Telfair, who, as you of course -know, emigrated to America in 1790 and settled at -Gallipolis on the Ohio, which without doubt is very -close to your own estates in Alabama. Perhaps it is -that you have exchanged frequent visits with him and -that his history and the so sad circumstances of his -death are to you of the most familiar. If so, much of -this letter is unnecessary.</p> - -<p>“In the remote contingency, however, that you may -not know of his history in America, permit me to repeat<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span> -the little that is known to us here in France. It will -call the attention; this:</p> - -<p>“Among the papers of my so noble patron, just deceased, -I have found a letter, dated June 10, 1800, -with the seal yet unbroken, which appears to have -reached the château Telfair many years ago but not -to have been brought to his lordship’s attention. Of -a truth this is not surprising, the year 1800 being of -the most disturbed and the years following being attended -by turbulence both of politics and of strife, -during which his lordship seldom visited the château.</p> - -<p>“This letter inclosed certificates of the marriage -at Marietta, Ohio, of M. Delaroche Telfair to Mlle. -Margaret De la War, on June 18, 1794, and of the -birth of a daughter, Estelle, on Oct. 9, 1795. The -originals appear to be on file at Marietta. M. Delaroche -says that he sends the copies as a precaution.</p> - -<p>“No other information of father or daughter or of -any other children appears to be of record, but the late -count had without a doubt received further news, for -he several times spoke to me of his so sadly deceased -brother.</p> - -<p>“In default of a possible son the title of Count of -Telfair devolves on M. Brito Telfair, representative -of the branch of the family so execrated by his lordship -now departed. Your own line comes last. The -estates go to the Lady Estelle Telfair, or, if she be -deceased, to Count Brito Telfair, whose ancestors have -long been domiciled in England.”</p> -</div> - -<p>Jack looked up. “Brito Telfair!” he exclaimed. -“That’s the name the Indian mentioned. Who is -he exactly?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span>“He’s the head of the British branch. His people -moved there a hundred years or so ago, after the -Revocation of the Edict of Nantes. We came to -America and they stopped in England. I understand -he’s an officer in the British army, heavily -in debt, and a general roué. I reckon he’s about -forty years old.”</p> - -<p>With a shrug of his shoulders—a trick inherited -from his Gallic ancestors—Jack resumed:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“Not knowing where to reach the Lady Estelle (or -other descendants of M. Delaroche) I address you, -asking that you convey to her my most humble felicitations. -I can not close, my dear sir, without a word -of the caution. The Lady Estelle would appear to -be about seventeen years of age. Her property in -France is of a value, ah! yes, but of a value the most -great. Adventurers will surely seek her out and she -will need friends. Above all she should not be allowed -to fall into the hands of M. Brito, who would undoubtedly -wed her out of all hand to gain possession -of her estates. Both the late count and M. Delaroche -(when I knew him) hated and despised the English -branch of M. Brito. To you, beloved of my master -the count, I appeal to save and protect his heiress from -those he so execrated. I have the honor, my very dear -sir, to be your obedient servant. Verbum sapientes -satis est.</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Henri Capron</span>, avocat.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Postscriptum.</span>—I open this to add that I have just -learned that M. Brito sailed with his regiment for -Montreal a month ago. He is of a repute the most evil.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span> -If he gets possession of the Lady Estelle he will without -the doubt wed her, forcibly if need be. And it -would be of a shame the most profound if the Telfair -estates should be squandered in paying the debts of -one so disreputable.”</p> -</div> - -<p>Jack crumpled the letter in his hand. “I should -think it would be,” he cried. “Thank the Lord -Tecumseh remembered Delaroche’s warning. But -let me tell you my story.”</p> - -<p>Rapidly Jack recounted the circumstances of the -Shawnee’s visit and recited the message he had -brought. “This explains everything,” he ended. -“Brito Telfair wants to get possession of the girl -and marry her before she knows anything about her -rights. Well! He shan’t!”</p> - -<p>Colonel Telfair laughed. “Lord! Jack! You’re -heated,” he exclaimed. “Brito Telfair probably -isn’t much worse than other men of his age and -surroundings. You’ve got to allow for Capron’s -prejudices, national and personal. Marriage with -him mightn’t be altogether unsuitable. Still, we’ve -got to make sure that it is suitable, and if it isn’t, -we’ve——”</p> - -<p>“We’ve got to stop it!” Jack struck in. “The -first thing is to find the girl and bring her here. -We can decide what to do after that.”</p> - -<p>Colonel Telfair became suddenly grave. “Yes!” -he answered, “I reckon we can, if—” He broke off -and contemplated his son curiously. “How does<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span> -Tecumseh happen to send for you, sir?” he demanded. -“But I reckon it comes of your running -wild in their villages while they were down here. -They adopted you or something, didn’t they?”</p> - -<p>Jack nodded. “Yes! Tecumseh’s mother -adopted me into the Panther clan. She was born -down here, you know, and was back here on a visit -when I knew her.”</p> - -<p>“Humph!” The old gentleman pondered a moment. -Then suddenly he caught fire. “Yes! Go, -Jack, go!” he thundered. “Damme, sir! I’d like -to go with you, sir. I envy you! If I was a few -years younger I’d go, too, sir! Damme! I would.”</p> - -<p>“I wish you could, father.” The boy threw his -arm affectionately about the older man’s shoulders. -“Lord! wouldn’t we have times together. We’d -rescue the girl and then we’d help General Hull -smash the redcoats and the redskins.”</p> - -<p>“We would, sir! Damme, we would!” The old -gentleman shook his fist in the air. “We’d—we’d——” -He broke off, catching at his side, and -dropped into a chair, which Jack hurriedly pushed -forward. “Oh! Jack! Jack!” he groaned. “What -d’ye mean by getting your old father worked up till -he’s ill?” Then with a sudden change of front—“You—you’ll -be careful, won’t you, Jack? Not <i>too</i> -careful, you know—not when you face the enemy, -but—but—damme, sir, you know what I mean.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span> -You needn’t get yourself killed for the fun of it, -sir. I—I’m an old man, Jack, and you’re my only -son and if you——”</p> - -<p>“Don’t fear, father! I know the woods. I know -the trails. I know the Indian tongues. I am a -member of the Panther clan. More, I am going to -Ohio at the invitation of Tecumseh. Until war begins -every member of my clan will be bound to help -me because I am their clan brother; every Shawnee -will be bound to help me because I am the friend -of Tecumseh; every other warrior will befriend me -once he knows who I am. If I travel fast I may -rescue cousin Estelle before——”</p> - -<p>“Estelle! Estelle! Good God! Yes! I’d forgotten -her altogether. I wonder what she’ll be like: not -much like our young ladies; that’s certain. Bring -her back to us, Jack. We need a daughter in the -family. And as for France, damme, I’ll go over -with her myself, sir.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll wager you will, father. I’ll get her before -war begins if I can. If I can’t—well, I’ll get her -somehow. Once war begins, my clan membership -fails and——”</p> - -<p>“Well! Let it fail, sir. I don’t half understand -about this clan business of yours, sir. I don’t approve -of it, sir. How will war effect that, sir?”</p> - -<p>Colonel Telfair’s ignorance as to the Indian clans -was no greater than that of nine-tenths of his fellow -citizens, whether of his own times or of later<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span> -ones, dense ignorance having commonly prevailed -not only as to the nature but as to the very existence -of the clans.</p> - -<p>But Jack knew them. Much had he forgotten, -but in the last hour much had come back to him. -Thoughts, memories, bits of ritual, learned long before -and buried beneath later knowledge, struggled -upward through the veil of the years and rose to his -lips.</p> - -<p>“They—they are like Masonic orders, father,” -he began, vaguely. “They know no tribe, no nation. -Mohawks and Shawnees and Creeks of the same -clan are brothers, and yet—and yet—if the Shawnee -sends a war belt to the Creeks, clan ties are suspended—just -as between Masons of different nations. -But when the battle is over, fraternity -brothers are bound to succor each other, bound to -ransom each other from the flame. This they may -perhaps do by persuading the tribe to adopt them -in place of some warrior who has been slain.”</p> - -<p>“Humph! I thought they had been adopted -already?”</p> - -<p>“As members of the clan, yes! Adoption by the -tribe is different. It changes the entire blood of -him who is adopted. He <i>becomes</i> the man whose -name and place he takes, and he is bound to live -and fight as his predecessor would have lived and -fought and to forget that he ever lived another -life. Membership in the clans by birth is strictly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span> -in the female line. The women control them and -decide who shall be adopted into them.”</p> - -<p>“All right. I don’t half understand. But I -suppose you do. Anyway, I’m glad you’ve got -your membership to help you—Look here, Jack!” -An idea had struck the elder man. “D—d if -I don’t believe that warrior of yours was Tecumseh -himself. I started to speak of it when you first -named him. I met Colonel Hawkins—he’s the -Indian agent—this morning and he told me that a -big chief from the north was down here, powwowing -to the Creeks at Takabatchi—urging them to dig -up the hatchet, I reckon. Tecumseh was here a -year ago, you know. Maybe he’s come back!”</p> - -<p>Jack nodded, absently. “Maybe it was -Tecumseh, father,” he answered. He had just remembered -Sally Habersham and he was wondering -if she would grieve when she heard that he had gone -away. For a time, perhaps! But not for long. -She would have other thoughts to engross her. -Jack knew it and was glad to know it. He wanted -no one to be unhappy because of him—least of all -Sally Habersham. She who had been so kind—so -kind—His lips burned at the memory of her kiss. -“I’ll prove myself worthy of it!” he swore to himself. -“I’ll carry it unsullied to the end. No other -woman——”</p> - -<p>Telfair broke in. “Damme! sir! What are you -moonshining about now?” he roared. “About your<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span> -cousin Estelle? Bring her back and marry her, -Jack. She’s a great heiress, my lad, a great -heiress.”</p> - -<p>Jack drew himself up. Strangely enough he had -thought little about the girl-child for whose sake -he was going to undertake the long journey. His -father’s words grated on him.</p> - -<p>“I shall never marry, father,” he declared.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER III</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE sun was about to climb above the rim of -the world. Already the white dawn was -silvering the grey mists that lay alike on -plain and on river and half hid the mossy green -boles of the trees that stood on the edge of the -forest. From beneath it sounded the low murmur -of the waters of the Auglaize, toiling sluggishly -through the timbers that choked its bed and gave -it its Indian name of Cowthenake, Fallen Timber -river. High about it whimpered the humming rush -of wild ducks. From the black wall of the forest -that led northward to the Black Swamp came the -waking call of birds.</p> - -<p>Steadily the light grew. The first yellow shafts -shimmered along the surface of the mist, stirring -it to sudden life. Out of the draperies of fog, points -seemed to rise, black against the curtain of the -dawn. To them the mists clung with moist tenacious -fingers, resisting for a moment the call of the sun, -then shimmering away, leaving only a trace of tears -to sparkle in the sunlight.</p> - -<p>Steadily the sun mounted and steadily the mists -shrank. The spectral points, first evidence that -land and not water lay beneath the fog, broadened -downward, here into tufts of hemlock, there into -smoother, more regular shapes that spoke of human<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span> -workmanship. Louder and louder grew the rippling -of the river. Then, abruptly, the carpet of mist -rose in the air, shredding into a thousand wisps -of white; for a moment it obscured the view, then it -was gone, floating away toward the great forest, as -if seeking sanctuary in its chilly depths. The black -river was still half-veiled, but the land lay bare, -sparkling with jewelled dew-drops.</p> - -<p>Close beside the river, on an elevation that rose, -island like, above the surrounding plain, stood the -Indian village, row after row of cabins, strongly -built of heavy logs, roofed with poles, and chinked -with moss and clay. In and out among them moved -half-wolfish dogs, that had crept from their lairs -to welcome the rising of the sun.</p> - -<p>No human being was visible, but an indistinct -murmur, coming from nowhere and everywhere, -mingled with the rush of the river and the whisper of -the wind in the green rushes and the tall grass. -The huts seemed to stir visibly; first from one and -then from a score, men, women, and children bobbed -out, some merrily, some grumpily, to stretch themselves -in the sunshine and to breathe in the soft morning -air before it began to quiver in the baking heat -that would surely and swiftly come. For early June -was no less hot in northern Ohio in 1812, when the -whole country was one vast alternation of swamp -and forest, than it is a hundred years later when the -land has been drained and the forest cut away.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span>From the door of a cabin near the centre of the -town emerged a girl sixteen or seventeen years of -age, who stood still in the sunbeams, eyes fixed on -the trail that led away through the breaks in the -forest to the south. Her features, browned as they -were by the sun and concealed as they were by paint, -yet plainly lacked the high cheek-bones, black eyes, -and broad nostrils of the Indians. Some alien blood -showed itself in the softness of her cheek, in the -kindling color in her long dark hair, in the brown -of her eyes. Her graceful body had the straight -slenderness that in the quick-maturing Indian maids -of her size and height had given place to the rounded -curves of budding womanhood. Her head, alertly -poised above her strong throat, showed none of the -marks of ancestral toil that had already begun to -bow her companions. In dress alone was she like -them, though even in this the unusual richness of -her doeskin garb, belted at the hips with silver, -marked her as one of prominence.</p> - -<p>For a little longer the girl watched the southward -trail; then her eyes roved westward, across -the rippling waters of the Auglaize, now veiled only -by scattered wisps of mist, and across its border of -sedgy grass, pale shimmering green in the mounting -sun, and rested on a cabin that stood on the -further bank, between an orchard and a small field -of enormous corn. From this cabin two men were -just emerging.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span>They were too far away indeed for the average -civilized man or woman to distinguish more than -that they were men and were dressed as whites. The -girl, however, was possessed of sight naturally -strong and had been trained all her life amid surroundings -where quickness of vision might easily -mean the difference between life and death. She -had seen the men before and she recognized them instantly.</p> - -<p>One of them wore a red coat and carried himself -with a ramrod-like erectness that bespoke the British -officer; the girl knew that he was from Canada, -probably from the fort at Malden, to which for three -years the Indians from a thousand square miles of -American soil had been going by tens and hundreds -to return laden with arms and ammunition and -presents from His Majesty, the King of Great -Britain. The second was of medium height, shaggy, -dressed in Indian costume, with a handkerchief -bound about his forehead in place of a hat. -He could only be James Girty, owner of the cabin, -or his brother Simon, of infamous memory—more -probably the latter.</p> - -<p>As the girl watched them an Indian squaw crept -out of a near-by cabin and came toward her.</p> - -<p>“Ever the heart of Alagwa (the Star) turns toward -the white men,” said she, harshly.</p> - -<p>The girl started, the swift blood leaping to her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span> -cheeks. “Nay!” she said. “These white men have -red hearts. They are the friends of the Indian. -Katepakomen (Girty) is an Indian; his white blood -has been washed from his veins even as my own!”</p> - -<p>“<i>Your</i> own!” The old woman laughed scornfully. -“Not so! <i>Your</i> heart is not red. It is white.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa’s was not the Indian stoicism that meets -all attacks with immobility. Her lip quivered and -her eyes filled with tears. “I am not white,” she -quavered. “I am red, red.”</p> - -<p>The old woman hesitated. She knew that between -equals what she had said would have been all but -unforgiveable. Alagwa had been adopted into the -tribe years before in the place of another Alagwa -who had died. She had been “raised up” in place of -her. Theoretically all white blood had been washed -out of her. She <i>was</i> the dead. To remind her of -her other life and ancestry was the worst insult -imaginable. The old woman knew that Tecumseh -would be very angry if he heard it. But she had an -object to gain and went on.</p> - -<p>“Then why does Alagwa refuse my son?” she -said. “Why does she defy the customs of her -people—if they are her people. The council of -women have decreed that she shall wed Wilwiloway. -If her heart is red why does she not obey?”</p> - -<p>The girl hung her head. “I—I am too young to -wed,” she protested.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span>“Bah!” the old woman spat upon the ground. -“Alagwa has seen seventeen summers. Other girls -wed at fifteen. Why should Alagwa scorn my son. -Is he not straight and tall? Is he not first among -the warriors in war and in chase? Has he not -brought back many scalps? Alagwa’s heart is -white—not red.”</p> - -<p>“But——”</p> - -<p>“Were Wilwiloway other than he is, he would -long ago have taken Alagwa to his hut. But he -will not. His heart, too, is white. He says Alagwa -must come to him willingly or not at all. He will -not let us compel her. He——” The old woman -broke off with a catch in her voice—“he loves -Alagwa truly,” she pleaded, wistfully. “Will not -Alagwa make his moccasins and pound his corn!”</p> - -<p>The girl, who had slowly straightened up under -the assault of the old woman, weakened before the -sudden change of tone.</p> - -<p>“Oh!” she cried. “I will try. Truly! I will -try. Wilwiloway is good and kind and brave. I am -proud that he has chosen me. I wish I could love -him. But—but I do not, and I must love before I -give myself. I am bad! wicked! I know it. Yes! -I have a white heart. But I will pray to Mishemanitou, -the Great God, to make it red.”</p> - -<p>The old woman caught the sobbing girl to her -heart. “Do not weep!” she said, gently. “See! -the sun burns red through the trees; it is the answer<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span> -of Manitou, the mighty. He sends it as a message -that your heart shall turn from white to red. There! -It is changed! Look up, Alagwa, and be glad.”</p> - -<p>The girl raised her head and stared at the line -of trees that curled away in a great crescent toward -the east and the west. The sun did indeed burn -red through them. Could it be an omen? As she -stared the squaw slipped silently away.</p> - -<p>Alagwa’s heart was burning hot within her. The -squaw’s accusation that her heart was white had -cut deep. All her remembered life she had been -taught to hate and fear the white men. White men -were the source of all evil that had befallen her. -They had driven her and her people back, back, ever -back, forcing them to give up one home after -another. White men had slain her friends; never -did she inquire for some dear one who was missing -but to be told that he had been killed by the white -men. Again and again in her baby ears had rung -the cries of the squaws, weeping for the dead who -would return no more. Of the other side of the -picture she knew nothing. Of the red rapine the -Shawnee braves had wrought for miles and miles to -the south she had heard, but it was to her only a -name, not the awful fact that it had been to its -victims. To her the whites were aggressors, robbers, -murderers, who were slowly but surely crushing -her Indian friends.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span>Only the year before they had destroyed her home -at Tippecanoe on the banks of the Wabash. Well -she remembered their advance, their fair speaking -that concealed their implacable purpose to destroy -her people. Well she remembered the great -Indian council that debated whether to fight or to -yield, the promises of the Prophet that his medicine -would shield the Indians against the white men’s -bullets, the night attack, the repulse, the flight -across miles of prairie to the ancestral home at -Wapakoneta. She remembered Tecumseh’s return—too -late. Here, also, she knew nothing of the other -side—of the absolute military necessity that the -headquarters from which Tecumseh was preparing -to sweep the frontier should be destroyed and its -menace ended. It was she and her friends who had -suffered and it was she and her friends who had -fled, half starved, across those perilous miles of -swamp and morass. It was the white men who had -triumphed; and she hated them, hated them, hated -them. The memory of it all was bitter.</p> - -<p>And it was no less bitter because revenge seemed -hopeless. Tecumseh was planning revenge, she -knew, but he no longer found the support he had -gained a year before. His own people, the -Shawnees, implacable fighters as they had been, had -wearied of war at last. Black Wolf, the chief at -Wapakoneta, himself once a great warrior and a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span> -bitter foe of the whites, now preached that further -resistance was vain—that it meant only death. -Many of the tribe sided with him, for the Indian, no -more than the white man, unless maddened by long -tyranny, cares to engage in a contest where triumph -is hopeless. The only hope lay in the redcoats, -soldiers of the great king across the water. They -were planning war against the Long Knives. If -they should make common cause with the red men, -revenge might yet be won. If she could do anything -to help!</p> - -<p>A footstep startled her and she flashed about to -find Simon Girty and the tall man in the red coat -almost upon her. While she had dreamed of the -return of Tecumseh they had crossed the Auglaize -river and had come upon her unawares.</p> - -<p>Girty was as she had many times remembered him—a -deeply-tanned man perhaps forty years of age, -with gray, sunken eyes, thin and compressed lips, -hyena chin, and dark shaggy hair bound with a -handkerchief above a low forehead, across which -stretched a ghastly half-healed wound. In his arms -he carried a great bale, carefully wrapped.</p> - -<p>The other—Alagwa had never seen his like before—was -tall and powerful looking. His carriage was -graceful and easy. His dark face, handsome in a -way though plainly not so handsome as it had been -some years before, was characterized by a powerful<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span> -jaw that diverted attention from his strong mouth -and aquiline nose. He was regarding the girl with -an expression evidently intended to be friendly, but -which somehow grated. It seemed at once condescending, -appraising, and insolent.</p> - -<p>All this Alagwa took in at a glance as she shrank -backward, intent on flight. But before she could -move Girty’s voice broke in.</p> - -<p>“Stop!” he ordered, sharply, in the Shawnee -tongue. “The white chief from afar would speak -with the Star maiden.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa paused, looking fearfully backward. -But she did not speak and Girty went on.</p> - -<p>“The white chief is of the House of Alagwa,” he -declared. “His heart is warm toward her. He -brings good news and many presents to lay at her -feet.” He laid down the bale.</p> - -<p>Alagwa looked from it to the man and back again. -“Let him speak,” she said, in somewhat halting -English.</p> - -<p>At the sound of his own tongue the Englishman’s -face lighted up and he took an impulsive step forward. -“You speak English?” he exclaimed, with -a note of wonder in his voice. “Why did nobody -tell me that? How did you learn?” His surprise -did not seem altogether complimentary.</p> - -<p>Alagwa was studying him shyly. She found his -pink and white complexion very pleasing after the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span> -coppery skins of the Indians and the no less swarthy -faces of most of the white men she had seen. Besides, -this man wore a red coat and the redcoats -were the friends of Tecumseh. “I speak it a little,” -she said, hesitatingly. As a matter of fact she -spoke it rather well, having picked up much from -time to time from Colonel Johnson, the Indian agent, -from two or three white prisoners, and from -Tecumseh himself.</p> - -<p>“That’s lucky. If I’d known that I’d have -spoken to you before and settled the business out of -hand. You wouldn’t guess it, of course, little forest -maiden that you are, but you are a cousin of mine?”</p> - -<p>“A cousin? I?” Startled, palpitating, Alagwa -leaned forward, staring with wide eyes. No white -man except her father had ever claimed kin with -her. What did it mean, this sudden appearance of -one of her blood?</p> - -<p>“Yes! You’re my cousin and, egad, you’ll do -the family honor! I’m Captain Count Brito Telfair, -you know, and you are the Lady Estelle Telfair. -Your father was my kinsman. I never met him, -for he and his people lived in France, and I and -my people lived in England. Your uncle was the -Count Telfair. He died not long ago. He had -neglected you shamefully, but when he died it became -my duty as head of the house to come over -here and fetch you back to France and give you -everything you want. Do you understand?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span>Alagwa did not understand wholly. Not only the -words but the ideas were new to her. But she -gathered that she had white kinspeople, that they -had not altogether forgotten her, and that the -speaker had come to bring her gifts from them. -Doubtfully she nodded.</p> - -<p>“I saw Tecumseh two months ago,” went on Captain -Brito, “and I saw you, too.” He smiled engagingly. -“You were outside Tecumseh’s lodge -as I came out and I remember wishing that my new -cousin might prove to be half as charming. Of -course I did not know you. Tecumseh told me that -he knew where Delaroche’s daughter was, but he -refused to tell me anything more. He said he would -produce her in two months.” Captain Brito’s face -darkened. “These Indians are very insolent, but—Well, -I waited for a time, but when Tecumseh -went away I made inquiries, and Girty here found -you for me. I can’t tell you how delighted I am -to find that you and the charming little girl I saw -outside the lodge are one and the same. It makes -everything delightful.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa’s head was whirling. For ten years, -practically all of her life that she could remember, -she had lived the life of an Indian with no thought -outside of the Indians. She had rejoiced with their -joys, and grieved with their woes. Like them she -had hated the Americans from the south and had -looked upon the English on the north as her friends.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span>And now abruptly another life had opened before -her. A redcoat officer had claimed her as kinswoman. -The easy, casual, semi-contemptuous air -with which he spoke scarcely affected her, for she -had been used to concede the supremacy of man. -She did not know what this claim might portend, -but it made her happy. No thought that she might -have to leave her Indian home had yet crossed her -mind. Brito’s assertion that he had come to take -her to France had not yet seeped into her understanding. -To her France and England were little -more than words.</p> - -<p>Uncertainly she smiled. “I am glad,” she murmured.</p> - -<p>Captain Brito took her hand and raised it to his -lips. “You will be more than glad when you understand,” -he declared, patronizingly. “Of course you -can’t realize what a change this means for you.” -He glanced round and shuddered. “After this—ugh—England -and France will be paradise to you. -Get ready and as soon as Tecumseh comes back and -gives me the proofs of your identity I’ll take you -to Canada and then on to England.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa shrank back. “I? To England?” she -gasped.</p> - -<p>“Of course.” Captain Brito smiled. “All of -your house are loyal Englishmen and you must be -a loyal Englishwoman. You really don’t know what<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span> -a wonderful country England is. It’s not a bit like -this swampy, forest-covered Ohio. And the people—Oh! -Well! you’ll find them very different from the -Indians and from the bullying murdering Americans. -You’ll learn to be a great lady in England, you -know.”</p> - -<p>A shadow fell between the two, and an Indian, -naked save for a breech-clout and for the eagle -feathers rising from his scalp-lock, thrust himself -between the girl and the intruders.</p> - -<p>“White men go!” he ordered, in Shawnee. -“Take presents and go!”</p> - -<p>Brito’s face flushed brick-red. He did not understand -the words, but he could not mistake the tone. -His hand fell to his sword hilt. Instantly, however, -Girty stepped between. “Why does the Chief -Wilwiloway interfere?” he demanded.</p> - -<p>Wilwiloway leaned forward, his fierce eyes glittering -into those of the renegade. “Tecumseh say -white men no speak to Alagwa. White men go!” -he ordered again. His words came like a low growl.</p> - -<p>For a moment the others hesitated. Then Brito -nodded and said something to Girty and the latter -drew back, snarling but yielding. Brito himself -turned to Alagwa. “Good-by, cousin,” he called. -“Since this—er—gentleman objects I have to go. -With your permission I’ll return later—when -Tecumseh is back.” With a smile and a bow he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span> -turned away. He knew he could not afford to quarrel -with Tecumseh until he had secured the proofs of -the girl’s identity.</p> - -<p>Wilwiloway called Girty back. “Take presents,” -he ordered, pointing; and with a savage curse the -man obeyed.</p> - -<p>Wilwiloway watched them go. Then he turned -to Alagwa and his face softened. “They are bad -men,” he said, gently. “Their words are forked. -Tecumseh commands that Alagwa shall not speak -with them.”</p> - -<p>The girl did not look altogether submissive. -Nevertheless she nodded. “Alagwa will remember,” -she promised. “Yet surely Tecumseh is deceived. -The white man speaks with a straight tongue. He -brings Alagwa great tidings. And the redcoats -are the friends of the Shawnees.”</p> - -<p>The Indian shrugged his shoulders. “Tecumseh -speaks; Alagwa must obey!” he declared, bluntly. -Then he turned away, leaving the girl to wonder—quite -as mightily as if she had lived all her life -among her civilized sisters.</p> - -<p>How long she stood and wondered she never knew. -Abruptly she was roused by a sound of voices from -the direction of the southern outposts. Steadily -the sound grew, deepening into a many-throated -chant—the chant of welcome to those returning from -a journey—the chant of thanksgiving that those<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span> -arriving have passed safely over all the perils of the -way:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"> -Greatly startled now have I been today</div> -<div class="verse">By your voice coming through the woods to this clearing;</div> -<div class="verse">With a troubled mind have you come</div> -<div class="verse">Through obstacles of every kind.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Great thanks, therefore, we give, that safely</div> -<div class="verse">You have arrived. Now then, together,</div> -<div class="verse">Let both of us smoke. For all around indeed</div> -<div class="verse">Are hostile powers—</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>Alagwa spun round. She knew what the song -meant—Tecumseh was returning.</p> - -<p>A moment later he passed her, striding onward to -his lodge. His face was stern—the face of one who -goes to face the great crisis of his life. Behind -him came chief after chief, warrior after warrior, -members of many tribes. Versed in Indian heraldry -as she was, Alagwa could not read half the ensigns -there foregathered.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">FOR nearly a month Jack Telfair, with black -Cato at his heels, had been riding northward -through a country recently reclaimed from -the wilderness and reduced to civilization. Day -after day he passed over broad well-beaten roads -from village to village and from farmstead to farmstead, -where clucking hens and lowing cattle had -taken the place of Indian, bear, and wildcat. Between, -he rode through long stretches of wilderness, -where the settlements lay farther and farther apart -and the ill-kept way grew more and more rugged -and silver-frosted boulders glistened underfoot in -the dawn.</p> - -<p>The route lay wholly west of the Alleghenies and -the travellers had to climb no such mighty barrier -as that which stretched between the Atlantic and -the west. But the land steadily rose, and day by day -the sunset burned across increasing hills. The -two passed Nashville—a thriving town growing like -a weed—and came at last to the Kentucky border -and the crest of the watershed between the Cumberland -and the Green river. Here, cutting across the -headwaters of a deep, narrow creek, ice cold and -crystal clear, filled with the dusky shadows of darting -trout, they stumbled into the deep-cut trail<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span> -travelled for centuries by Indian warriors bound -south from beyond the Ohio to wage war on tribes -living along the Atlantic and the Gulf. This trail -was nearly a thousand miles long; one branch started -from the mouth of the Mississippi and the other from -the Virginia seaboard, and the two met in southern -Kentucky, crossed the Ohio, and followed the Miami -toward the western end of Lake Erie. Jack had only -to follow it to reach his destination.</p> - -<p>Like all Indian pathways, the trail clung to the -highest ground, following the route that was driest -in rain, clearest of snow in winter and of brush and -leaves in summer, and least subject to forest fires. -Much of it was originally lined out by buffalo, -which found the way of least resistance as instinctively -as the red men, but long stretches of it had -been made by the Indians alone. The buffalo trail -was broad and deep and was worn five or six feet -into the soil; the Indian trail was in few places more -than a foot deep and was so narrow that it was impossible -to see more than a rod along it. No -one could traverse it without breaking the twigs and -branches of the dense bushes that overhung it on -either side, leaving a record that to the keen eye -of the savage and of the woodsman was eloquent to -the number who had passed and the time of their -passage. No one who once travelled its vistaless -stretches could fail to understand the ease with -which ambushes and surprises could be effected.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span>Though the trail clung to high ground the exigencies -of destination compelled it in places to go -down into the valleys. It had to descend to cross -the Kentucky river and to descend again into the -valley of the Licking as it approached the Ohio at -Cincinnati. In such places it had often been overflowed -and obliterated and its route was far less -definite. However, this no longer mattered, for in -all such parts it had long been incorporated into -the white man’s road. Much of it, however, still -endured and was to endure for more than a hundred -years. Beyond the Ohio it climbed once more and -followed the crest of the divide between Great and -Little Miami rivers to Dayton, Piqua, and Wapakoneta.</p> - -<p>Thirty years before men had fought their way -over every inch of that trail, dying by scores along -it from the arrow, the tomahawk, and the bullet. -But that had been thirty years before. For twenty -years the trail had been safe as far as the Ohio; for -ten it had been measurably safe halfway up the -state, to the edge of the Indian country.</p> - -<p>Throughout the journey Jack tried hard to be -mournful. Every dawn as he opened his eyes on a -world new created, vivid, baptized with the consecration -of the dew, he reminded himself that life -could hold no happiness for him—since Sally Habersham -had given her hand to another. Every noontide -as he saw the fields swelling with the growing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span> -grain, the apples shaping themselves out of the air, -the vagrant butterflies seeking their painted mates -above the deep, moist, clover-carpeted meadows, he -told himself that for him alone all the vast processes -of nature had ceased. Every evening, when the landscape -smouldered in the setting sun, when the red -lights burned across the tips of the waving grasses, -when the burnished pines pointed aspiringly higher, -when the rushing rapids on the chance streams glittered -in sparkling points of multi-colored fire, he -assured himself that to himself there remained only -the hard, straight path of duty.</p> - -<p>Yet, in spite of himself, the edge of his grief -grew slowly but surely dull. The bourgeoning -forests, the swelling mountains, the vast stretches -of solitude were all so many veils stretched between -him and the past. His love for Sally Habersham -did not lessen, perhaps, but it became unreal, like -the memory of a dear, dead dream that held no bitterness. -It was hard to brood on the life of gallant -and lady, of silver and damask, of polished floors -and stately minuets, when his every waking minute -had to be spent in meeting the intensely practical -problems that beset the pioneers. It was hard to -assure himself that he would live and die virgin -and that his house should die with him, when, as -often as not, he dropped off to sleep in the same -house, if not the same room, with a dozen or more -sturdy boys and girls that were being raised by one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span> -of those same pioneers and his no less vigorous wife.</p> - -<p>Besides, Cato would not let him brood. Cato had -feminine problems of his own which he insisted on -submitting to his master’s judgment. When rebuffed, -he preserved an injured silence till he judged -that Jack’s mood had softened and then returned -blandly to the charge. Very early on the trip Jack -gave up in despair all attempts to check his menial’s -tongue; he realized that nothing short of death -would do this, and he could not afford to murder his -only companion, though he often felt as if he would -like to do it.</p> - -<p>“There ain’t no use a-talkin’, Marse Jack,” Cato -observed one day. “The onliest way to git along -with a woman is to keep her a-guessin’. Jes’ so long -as she don’ know whar you is or what you’s a-thinkin’, -you’s all right. But the minute she finds -out whar you is, then whar is you? Dat’s what -I ax you, Marse Jack?”</p> - -<p>Jack shook his head abstractedly. “I’m sure I -don’t know, Cato,” he said. “Where are you?”</p> - -<p>“You ain’ nowhar, that’s what you is. Dar was -Colonel Jackson’s gal Sue. Mumumph! Couldn’t -dat gal make de beatenest waffles! An’ didn’t she -make ’em foh me for most fo’ months till I done ax -her to marry me! An’ didn’t she stop makin’ ’em -right spang off? An’ didn’t she keep on stoppin’ -till I tuk up with Sophy? An’ then didn’t she begin -again? Yes, suh; it’s jes’ like I’m tellin’ you. Jes’<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span> -as long as a woman thinks she’s got you, you ain’t -nobody; and the minute she thinks some other gal’s -got you, then you’s everything. Talk to me about -love! Gals don’t know what love is. All they wants -is to spite the other gals.”</p> - -<p>“Well! How did you make out, Cato. Did you -fix on Sue or Sophy?”</p> - -<p>“Now, Marse Jack, you know I ain’t a-goin’ to -throw myself away on none of them black nigger -gals. I’se too light complected to do that, suh. Besides, -Sue and Sophy done disappointed me. They -pointedly did, suh. Jes’ as I was a-makin’ up my -mind to marry Mandy—Mandy is dat yaller gal -of Major Habersham’s; I done met her when you -was co’ting Miss Sally—Sue and Sophy got together -and went to Massa Telfair and tole him -about it and Massa Telfair say I done got to marry -one of them two inside a week, an’ if you hadn’t done -start off so sudden I reckon’s I’d a been married -and done foh befo’ now, suh. Massa Telfair’s -plumb sot in his ways, suh.”</p> - -<p>Jack was tired of the talk. “Oh! Well! I reckon -Mandy’ll be waiting for you when you get back,” -he answered, idly.</p> - -<p>Cato smiled broadly. “Ain’t dat de trufe?” he -chuckled, delightedly. “I ain’t ax Mandy yit, -but she ’spec’s me to. I tell you, Marse Jack, you -got to keep ’em guessin’, yes, you is, suh. Jes’ as -long as you does you got ’em.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span>Cato rung the changes on his tale with infinite -variations. Jack heard about Sue and Sophonia -and Mandy from Alabama to Ohio, from the Tallapoosa -to the Miami. It was only when he reached -Dayton that the loves of his henchman were pushed -into the background by more urgent affairs.</p> - -<p>Dayton was alive with the war fever. Governor -Hull, of Michigan, who had been appointed a brigadier -general, had started north from there nearly a -month before with thirty-five hundred volunteers -and regulars and was now one hundred miles to the -north, cutting his way laboriously through the -vast forest of the Black Swamp. At last reports -he had reached Blanchard River, and had built a -fort which he called Fort Findlay. So far as Ohio -knew war had not yet been declared, but news that -it had been was expected daily. The whole state -awaited it in apprehension, not from fear of the -British, but from terror of their ruthless red allies.</p> - -<p>Not a man or woman in all Ohio but knew what -Indian warfare meant. Not one but could remember -the silent midnight attack on the sleeping farmhouse, -the blazing rooftree, the stark, gashed forms -that had once been men and women and little children, -the wiping out of the labor of years in a single -hour.</p> - -<p>Every sight and sound of forest and of prairie -mimicked the clash. The hammering of the woodpecker -was the pattering of bullets, the thump of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span> -the beaver was the thud of the tomahawk, the scream -of the fishhawk the shriek of dying women, the scolding -of the chipmunks in the long grass the chatter -of the squaws around the torture post, the red reflection -of the setting sun the gleam of blazing rooftrees.</p> - -<p>Ah! Yes! Ohio knew what Indian war meant.</p> - -<p>And Cato, for the first time, realized whither he -was going. He ceased to talk of his sweethearts -and began to pray for his soul.</p> - -<p>At last Jack came to Piqua. Piqua stood close -to the boundary of the Indian country, which then -spread over the whole northwestern quarter of Ohio. -North of it lay the great Black Swamp, through -which roved thousands of Indians, nominally peaceful, -but potentially dangerous. At Piqua, too, dwelt -Colonel John Johnson, the United States Indian -agent, whose business it was to keep them quiet.</p> - -<p>As Jack rode into the outskirts of the tiny scattered -village, a middle-aged man with long, gray -whiskers, skull cap, and buckskin trousers came -up to him.</p> - -<p>“Hello, stranger!” he bawled. “What’s the -news?”</p> - -<p>Jack reined in. “Sorry, but I haven’t any,” he -replied.</p> - -<p>“Whar you from?”</p> - -<p>“From Dayton and the south.”</p> - -<p>“Sho! Ain’t Congress declared war yet?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span>“Not that I know of. The last news from Washington -was that they were still debating.”</p> - -<p>“Debatin’? Well! I just reckon they are debatin’. -Lord sakes, stranger, don’t it make you -sick and tired to hear a lot of full grown men a-talkin’ -and a-talkin’ like a pack of women. Just -say what you got to say and stop; that’s my motto. -And here’s Congress a-talkin’ and a-talkin’ and a-wastin’ -time while the Injuns are fillin’ up with -fire-water and sharpenin’ their tomahawks and the -country’s going to the devil. Strike first, and talk -afterwards, say I. But then I never was much of -one to talk. I guess livin’ in the woods makes you -kinder silent, and——”</p> - -<p>“What’s the news from the north?” Hopeless -of a pause in the old man’s garrulity Jack broke in.</p> - -<p>The old man accepted the interruption with entire -good humor if not with pleasure, and straightway -started on a new discourse. “Bad, bad, mighty -bad, stranger,” he declared. “That red devil, -Tecumseh, has been a-traveling about the country -but he’s back now and the Injuns are getting ready -to play thunder with everybody. Colonel Johnson -says you ought to treat ’em kind and honeyswoggle -’em all the time, but that ain’t my way, and it -ain’t the way of nobody that knows Injuns. How -far north is you aimin’ to go, stranger?”</p> - -<p>“To Wapakoneta, I think.”</p> - -<p>“Then I reckon you’ll have to see Colonel Johnson.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span> -What did you say your name was? Mine’s -Rogers—Tom Rogers.”</p> - -<p>Jack grinned. “I didn’t say,” he answered. -“But it’s Jack Telfair.”</p> - -<p>“Telfair! Telfair! Seems to me I kinder remember -hearin’ of somebody of that name. But -it’s mighty long ago. Let’s see, now, I wonder -could it ha’ been that fellow that we whipped for -stealin’—Pshaw, no, that was a fellow named -Helden. He was——”</p> - -<p>“Where’ll I find Colonel Johnson,” demanded -Jack, in despair.</p> - -<p>“Well, now, that’s mighty hard to tell. Colonel -Johnson sloshes round a whole lot. Maybe you’ll -find him at John Manning’s mill up at the bend here -or maybe you’ll have to go to his place at Upper -Piqua or maybe you’ll have to go further. I reckon -you didn’t stop at Stanton as you come along, did -you? Colonel Johnson’s mighty thick with Levy -Martin down there, and he’s liable to be at his -house, or at Peter Felix’s store.”</p> - -<p>Jack shook his head. “No, I didn’t come by -Stanton.”</p> - -<p>By this time a number of other white men had -come up. The old hunter insisted on making Jack -known to all of them. Jack heard the names of -Sam Hilliard, Job Garrard, Andrew Dye, Joshua -Robbins, Daniel Cox, and several others. All of -them were anxious for news in regard to the coming<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span> -war, and all shook their heads dubiously when they -heard that Jack proposed to go further north.</p> - -<p>“It’s taking your life in your hands these days, -youngster,” remarked Andrew Dye, a patriarchal-looking -old man. “There’s ten thousand Injuns -pretendin’ to be tame between here and Wapakoneta -and the devil only knows how many more there are -north of it. Tecumseh’s sort of civilized, but his -Shawnees ain’t Tecumseh by a long shot. And -them d— British are stirrin’ ’em up. Course you -may get there all right, but when you go trampin’ -in where angels are ’fraid to, you’re mighty apt to -get turned into an angel yourself.”</p> - -<p>“I guess I’ve got to go,” said Jack. “I want -to get somebody who knows the country to go along -with me.”</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter with me?” broke in Rogers. -“I ain’t a-pining to lose my scalp, but I reckon if -I won’t go nobody will. And I don’t want no big -pay neither. You and me’ll agree on terms mighty -easy. I can take you anywhere. I know all the -Injuns. Why! Lord! They call me——”</p> - -<p>Job Garrard laughed. “Yes,” he said. “Tom -can take you anywhere. Tom’s always willing to -stick in. He stuck in on Judge Blank’s court down -in Dayton the other day, didn’t you, Tom? Haw! -Haw! Haw!”</p> - -<p>A burst of laughter ran round the group. Everybody -laughed indeed, except Tom himself. “You<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span> -boys think you’re blamed funny,” he tried to interpose.</p> - -<p>But the others would not hear him.</p> - -<p>“Maybe you heard something about it as you -come through Dayton, stranger!” said Dye. -“Tom tromped right into court and he heard the -judge dressin’ down two young lawyers that had -got to fussin’. I reckon Tom had been a-practicin’ -at another bar, for he yells out: ‘Give it to ’em, old -gimlet eyes.’ The judge stops short. ‘Who’s -that?’ he asked. Tom thinks he’s going to ask him -upon the bench or something and he steps out an’ -says: ‘It’s this yer old hoss!’ The judge he -looks at him for a minute an’ then he calls the -sheriff and says, ‘Sheriff, take this old hoss out and -put him in a stall and lock the stable up and see -that he don’t get stole before tomorrow mornin’.’ -And the sheriff done it, too. Haw! Haw! Haw!”</p> - -<p>The laughter was interrupted by the appearance -of a wagon drawn by mules and driven by a man -who looked neither to the right nor to the left.</p> - -<p>Rogers, glad of any change of subject, jumped -forward. “Hey!” he yelled. “What’s the news?”</p> - -<p>The driver paid no attention to the call. His -companion on the box, however, leaned out. “Go -to h—l, you old grand-daddy long legs,” he -yelled.</p> - -<p>The old hunter’s leathery cheek reddened. But -before he could retort a horseman appeared in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span> -road in front of the wagon and threw up his hand.</p> - -<p>“Hold on, boys,” he called. “Hold on! I want -to speak to you.”</p> - -<p>The driver hesitated; then, compelled by something -in the eyes of the man, he sulkily reined in. -As he did so Jack and the little crowd about him -moved over to the wagon.</p> - -<p>“I’m Tom Rich, deputy of Colonel Johnson, the -Indian agent up here,” the horseman was explaining, -peaceably. “Colonel Johnson’s away just now and -I’ve got to see everybody that goes north to trade -with the Injuns.”</p> - -<p>“We ain’t going to trade with no Injuns,” said -the man who appeared to be the leader. “We’re -taking supplies to Fort Wayne for the Government. -I reckon you ain’t got no call to stop us.”</p> - -<p>“Not a bit of it, boys. Not a bit of it. Just -let me see your papers and you can go right along.”</p> - -<p>The man sought in his pockets and finally extracted -a paper which he passed to Rich, who -scanned it carefully. “Your name’s David Wolf, -is it?” he questioned, “and your friend’s name is -Henry Williams?”</p> - -<p>“That’s right and we ain’t got no time to waste. -There ain’t no tellin’ when war’ll be declared -an’——”</p> - -<p>“No! There’s no telling. You can go along if -you want to, but I’ve got to warn you—warn all of -you.” Rich’s eye swept the group. “We got news<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span> -this morning that there was a big council at Wapakoneta -last night. There was a British officer there -in uniform and he and Tecumseh tried to get the -Shawnees to go north. Black Hoof (Catahecasa) -stood out against them, and our news is that less -than two hundred braves went. Still, there’s no telling, -and the country’s dangerous. Colonel Johnson’s -at Wapakoneta now. Better wait till he gets -back.”</p> - -<p>“Wait nothin’.” Wolf spat loudly into the road. -“General Hull rushed us here with supplies for -Fort Wayne and we’re going through. If any -darned Injun gets in our way he won’t stay in it -long. My pluck is to shoot first and question after.”</p> - -<p>The deputy’s brow grew stern. “You’ll be very -careful who you shoot and when,” he ordered, -sternly. “A single Indian murdered by a white -man might set the border in flames and turn thousands -of friendly Indians against us. I’ll let you -go through, but I warn you that if you shoot any -Indians without due cause Colonel Johnson will -see that you hang for it. We’ve got the safety of -hundreds of white people to consider and we’re not -going to have them endangered by any recklessness -of yours. You understand?”</p> - -<p>Wolf shrugged his shoulders. “I reckon so,” -he muttered.</p> - -<p>“All right, see that you heed.” Rich turned<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span> -away from the men and greeted Jack. “And where -are you bound, sir?” he asked smilingly.</p> - -<p>“I’m looking for Colonel Johnson,” returned -Jack. “I’m looking for a young lady who was to -have been left in his care. Have you heard anything -about her.”</p> - -<p>“A young lady?” The deputy stared; then he -laughed. “No! I’m not young enough,” he remarked, -cryptically.</p> - -<p>“Then, with your permission I’ll just tag along -after our crusty friends in the wagon.”</p> - -<p>The deputy hesitated. “I have no power to stop -you,” he said. “But you’d better wait here for -Colonel Johnson.”</p> - -<p>“I can’t. The matter is urgent. Come, -Cato! So long, boys!” Jack nodded to the -group around him, shook his bridle and cantered -off after the wagon, which had just vanished among -the trees.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER V</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE close of the Revolution had brought no -cessation of British intrigue along the -northern frontier. The British did not believe -the confederacy of states would endure. In -any event the western frontier was uncertain; miles -upon miles of territory—land enough for a dozen -principalities—lay open to whoever should first -grasp it. Treaties were mere paper; possession -was everything. Colonization in western Canada -had always lagged and the British could supply no -white barrier to hold back the resistless tide that -was rolling up from the south. But this very dearth -of colonists was in a way an advantage, for it prevented -the pressure on the Indians for lands that -had caused perpetual war further south. Desiring -to check the Americans rather than to advance their -own lines the British, through McKee and other -agents, poured out money to win the friendship of -the Indians. Arms, ammunition, provisions, gew-gaws -in abundance were always ready. In the five -years before the breaking out of the War of 1812 -probably more than half the Indians about the -Great Lakes had visited one British post or another -in Canada and had come back home loaded with -presents. The policy was wise, even if not humane.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span> -When the conflict came it was to save Canada, which -without Indian aid would have been lost forever to -the British crown.</p> - -<p>South of Canada, within the borders of the United -States, ten thousand Indians hung in the balance, -ready to be swayed by a hair. They were friendly -to the British, and they hated the Americans. But -they feared them, also—feared the men who had -fought and bled and died as they forced their way -westward past all resistance. Some would go north -at the first word of war, but most would stay quiet, -awaiting results.</p> - -<p>The first British triumph, however small, would -call hundreds of them to the British standard; a -great British triumph would call them forth in -thousands.</p> - -<p>Tecumseh was the head and front of those -Indians who favored war. For years he had urged -that the red men should unite in one great league -and should establish a line beyond which the white -man must not advance. Behind this, no foot of land -was to be parted with without the unanimous consent -of all the tribes. Two long journeys had he -made, travelling swiftly, tireless as a wolf, from -one tribe to another, from Illinois to Virginia, from -Florida to New York, welding all red men into a -vast confederacy that in good time would rise -against the ever-aggressive white man, crush his -outposts, sweep back his lines, and establish a great<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span> -Indian empire that would hold him back forever.</p> - -<p>A year before he had brought his plans nearly to -perfection. He had accumulated great quantities of -arms and ammunition and supplies at the town of -his brother, the Prophet, on the banks of the -Wabash, and had set out on his first long journey—a -journey that was intended to rivet fast the league -his emissaries had built. But he had gotten back -to find that Harrison, the white chief, had struck in -his absence, had defeated and scattered his chosen -warriors, had destroyed his town, and had blotted -out the work of three long years.</p> - -<p>All afternoon long, from the protection of a near-by -cabin, Alagwa watched that of Tecumseh, seeing -the chiefs come and go. Simon Girty and the man -in the red coat were among them.</p> - -<p>When at last the sun was setting and the ridge -poles of the cabin were outlined against the swirl -of rose-colored cloud that hung in the west, -Tecumseh sent for her.</p> - -<p>Pushing through the mantle of skins that formed -the door she found the great chief sitting cross-legged -in the semi-gloom. Silently she sank down -before him and waited.</p> - -<p>For a long time Tecumseh smoked on in silence. At -last he spoke, using the Shawnee tongue, despite -the fact that he was a master of English and that -Alagwa spoke it also, though not fluently. “Little -daughter,” he began. “For ten years you have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span> -dwelt in Tecumseh’s cabin and have eaten at his -fireside. The time has come for you to leave him -and take a trail of your own.”</p> - -<p>Startled, with quivering lips and tear-filled eyes, -Alagwa threw herself forward. “Why? Why? -Why?” she cried. “What has Alagwa done that -Tecumseh should send her away?”</p> - -<p>“Alagwa has done nothing. Tecumseh does not -send her away. And yet she must go. Listen, little -daughter, and I will tell you a tale. Some of it you -have heard already from the redcoat chief who -spoke to you today against my will. The rest -you shall hear now.</p> - -<p>“Ten years ago, your father left you in my -care. His name was Delaroche Telfair, a Frenchman, -a Manaouioui. He came of a great chiefs -family, from far across the water. All the chiefs -of his house are now dead and all their lands have -come down to him and from him to you. If you -were dead the lands would go to another chief—the -chief Brito, who spoke to you today. Two moons -ago this chief came to Tecumseh, seeking you and -speaking fair words and promising all things. He -is the servant of the British King and the ally of -Tecumseh, and if Tecumseh were free to choose, -he would have let you go with him gladly. But he -is not free. Before your father died he warned -Tecumseh against Brito, saying of him all things -that were evil. He told also of the other chiefs of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span> -his house who dwelt far to the south, near the great -salt water and near the ancient home of the Shawnee -people before they were driven northward by the -whites. He begged that Tecumseh should put you -in the care of these chiefs rather than in that of the -chief Brito. Does my daughter understand?”</p> - -<p>Alagwa bowed. “I understand, great chief,” -she answered, breathlessly.</p> - -<p>“Therefore Tecumseh bade the chief Brito wait -until he should return from a journey. He stationed -the chief Wilwiloway to watch and protect you. -For many moons he travelled. His moccasins trod -the woods and the prairies. He visited the home -of his friends’ people by the far south sea. Of -them one is a young white chief, handsome and brave -and skilful, called Te-pwe (he who speaks truth) -by the Shawnees. His years are four or five more -than Alagwa’s. Tecumseh saw him and gave him a -belt of black and white and told him by what trail -he should come to fetch you. The young chief -took the belt and Tecumseh hoped to find him here -when he came. But he has not come.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa’s breast was heaving. The suggestion -that she was to be sent far south into the land of -the Americans filled her with terror. She had been -trained in the stoicism of the Indian and she knew -that it was her part to obey in silence, accepting -the words of the chief, but her white blood cried -out in protest.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span>The chief went on. “Tecumseh has done what -he can to keep his promise to his friend. But now -Tecumseh’s people call him and he must leave all -else to serve them. Tonight he holds a great -council and tomorrow he and those who follow him -go north to join the redcoats and fight against the -Seventeen Fires (seventeen states). But before he -goes he must decide what to do with Alagwa. He -can not take her north with him. He can not leave -her here, for that would be to give her to the chief -Brito whether he wished it or not and whether -she wished it or not. Two things only can he do. -He can give her into the hands of her father’s foe -or he can send her south to meet the young white -chief, who is on his way to fetch her. Which shall -he do, little daughter?”</p> - -<p>Alagwa sat silent. Scarcely breathing, she strove -desperately to think, to choose between the courses -of action that Tecumseh had outlined, but the throbbing -of her pulses made the task difficult. In her -ears was the roaring of deep waters.</p> - -<p>Suddenly a flush of rage swept over her and she -sprang to her feet. “I will not! I will not!” she -panted. “Am I a dog that I should go begging -to the doors of the Long Knives from the south. -They are my people’s foes and mine. I will take -nothing from them. Neither will I go north with -the man whom my father hated. I can not stay -here, the great chief says? Good! I will go, but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span> -I will go to fight his foes and mine. I am a woman -and I can not travel the warpath. But surely there -is some other way for me to help? Can not the -great chief lay upon me some task? Is there not -some service that I may render to him and to the -people who took me in when I was a child and who -have cared for me these many moons?” Imploringly -the girl stretched out her hands.</p> - -<p>It was long before Tecumseh answered. But at -last he nodded. “It is just,” he said. “Your -father came to the Shawnees and the Shawnees took -him in. He left you with the Shawnees, and the -Shawnees have cared for you as one of themselves. -Now the Shawnees are to fight for their lands and -for the lands of their children and their children’s -children. It is right that you should help them.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa drew her breath sharply. “It is right,” -she echoed. “Let the white chief take my lands. -I care nothing for them. My heart is not white. -It is red, red.”</p> - -<p>Tecumseh smiled. “Truly have the people -named you Bobapanawe (Little Lightning),” he -said slowly. “And yet—Let not my daughter think -that this is a small matter. It is a very great -matter. If my daughter will——”</p> - -<p>“Oh! I will! I will!” Alagwa’s white blood -spoke in her outcry. No Indian woman would have -interrupted a chief.</p> - -<p>Tecumseh did not resent the outcry. “If my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span> -daughter will, she can go south, not as Alagwa, not -as a Shawnee, but as a prisoner escaping from -captivity. As such she can get and send word of -the plans and doings of the whites to Tecumseh and -the redcoats and so help the people who have -fostered her! Will my daughter do this?”</p> - -<p>Alagwa did not hesitate. To her all Americans -were base and vile, robbers and thieves. “I will! -I will,” she cried.</p> - -<p>“It is well. Perhaps my daughter may meet -the young chief——If she does, let her join herself -to him and follow him. He should not be far from -Wapakoneta. All Americans are robbers and -murderers at heart. But the young chief is not as -bad as most of them. Alagwa can trust him.”</p> - -<p>But the girl shook her head stubbornly. “I will -trust none of the Long Knives,” she protested.</p> - -<p>Tecumseh ignored the refusal. “If you go south -as a spy you can not go as an Indian, nor even as a -woman,” he said. “You must go as a white and -as a boy. So shall you pass through perils that -would otherwise overtake you. Tonight there will -be a great council. Wait till it is over. Then -dress yourself from the clothes yonder”—he -pointed to a heap at the side of the cabin—“and -go to the squaw Wabetha and tell her to cut your -hair and to wash the paint from your cheeks and to -dress you as a boy. Let no one see you, for your -enemies keep close watch. The chief Wilwiloway<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span> -will come for you at dawn and will go with you to -the bend of the Piqua and perhaps farther. Then -you must shift for yourself. From time to time -I will send a runner to bring back the information -you gain.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa bowed. “It is well,” she said.</p> - -<p>The chief slipped his hand into the braided pouch -that hung at his side and drew forth a small packet -wrapped in doeskin. From it he took a flat oval -case containing the miniature of a lady with a -proud, beautiful face, a chain so finely woven that -the links could scarcely be distinguished, and a -packet of gold coins whose value even Alagwa—child -of the forest though she was—well knew. All -of them he handed to the girl.</p> - -<p>“Your father left them,” he said. “Spend the -money, but keep the picture safe. Your father said -it would prove your rights if need be. Hang it -around your neck by the chain and show it to no -one till you must. Now, farewell.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap2">LITTLE sleep was there for any one in the -Shawnee camp that night. Hour after hour -the witchdrums boomed and the leaping -ghost fires flamed to the far-off blinking stars. -Hour after hour the thunderous chanting of the -braves shivered through the forest, waking the -resting birds and scaring the four-footed prowlers -of the night. Hour after hour the chiefs debated -peace and war, now listening to the words of the -redcoat emissary of the British king, now hearkening -to Tecumseh, now turning ear to Catahecasa -(Black Hoof) or to Wathethewela (Bright Horn), -as they spoke for peace, declaring that the British -would fight for a time and then go away, but that -the Long Knives from the south would stay forever. -Hour after hour the wheeling stars, a silver -dust behind the chariot of the moon, rose, passed, -and sank. Hour after hour the mounting mists -of the Black Swamp wavered and fell back, driven -away by the heat of the fires and the hot breaths -of the warriors. Dawn was breaking in the east -as Tecumseh and his devoted few struck their -hatchets into the war post and left the council to -prepare for their northward venture, leaving the -bulk of the Shawnees loyal to the Seventeen Fires.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span>Long before this, Alagwa had sought Wabetha, -wife of Tecumseh, and had told her the will of the -great chief. In the privacy of the lodge she had -dropped her Indian garments from her one by one, -till she stood revealed in the firelight, a slender -shape amazingly fair compared to the red tints of -the Indians. Wabetha, softly marvelling over the -ever-new wonder of her white beauty, had hacked -at the two heavy plaits of burnished hair till they -fell like two great snakes to the trampled clay of -the floor, leaving the girl bare indeed. Then, one -by one, she had clothed her in the unfamiliar garments -of the whites, the strong calico shirt, the -deerskin knee breeches, the leggings wrapped about -each slender limb and bound at the top and at the -bottom with pliant thongs, the high moccasins padded -as a protection against the snakes that infested -the whole region. When the squaw placed on her -head the inevitable coonskin cap of the white hunter, -it would have taken a sharp eye to suspect the sex -of this Indian-trained daughter of the Huguenots. -Straight as a fir and supple as a willow, retaining -longer than most of her sex the slender lines of -childhood, she hid all feminine curves beneath the -loose garb of the woodsman.</p> - -<p>When, with the first peep of dawn Wilwiloway -came slipping through the rolling mists to scratch -at the cabin door, she was ready, her good-bys -said. Without a word she fell in at his heels and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span> -together they took the long trail south, the trail -whose only end, so far as known to her, would be -beneath alien stars at the borders of a sea unknown.</p> - -<p>Wilwiloway moved cautiously. No sign of danger -was visible, but he was too well versed in the war -trail not to know that the unseen danger is ever the -deadliest. Alagwa followed, also cautiously, not -because she feared, for she did not, but because she -had been trained to obey the will of the leaders. -Close at Wilwiloway’s heels she trod, putting her -feet carefully into his footprints. Only once she -paused, at the edge of the clearing, and looked backward -at the vast wavering draperies of mist that -hid the only home she could remember. Her eyes -were dim and her cheeks wet, not merely from the -clinging fingers of the fog, as she strove to penetrate -the blanket of mist that hung before her. -For a moment she gazed, then, with a choking -sob, she hurried on.</p> - -<p>Hour after hour the two sped southward. Neither -spoke. Wilwiloway, at his great leader’s command, -was giving up the hope of his life, and was giving -it up silently and stolidly, with Indian stoicism. -Alagwa was giving up all she had known, all her -friends, all the familiar scenes of her childhood.</p> - -<p>And yet, after the first pang, her thoughts went -forward, not backward, ranging into the strange -new world into which she was hurrying. Alagwa -was skilled in all forms of woodcraft; she could make<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span> -fire where a white man would freeze; catch game -where he would starve; sleep warm and snug where -he would shiver and rack with wet and fever and -ague. She knew the forest trails, knew the rocks -on which the rattlesnake sunned and the tufts of -grass beneath which the copperhead lurked, knew -the verdure that hid the quagmire, the firm-appearing -ice that splintered at a touch, the tottering tree -that dealt ruin at a breath.</p> - -<p>But of the white man’s ways she knew almost -nothing. Before her father died he had taught her -to speak French, but in the years that had passed -since then she had nearly forgotten it. From one -source or another, from Colonel Johnson and his -family, from two or three prisoners, she had learned -English—enough to understand if not enough to -speak fluently. But other than this she knew nothing—except -that there was a world of things to be -known.</p> - -<p>Much she wondered concerning the strange new -life into which she was hurrying. Her woman’s -heart quaked at the dangers she must face, but her -woman’s soul, burning high with zeal to serve her -people, bore her on. If for a moment the thought -that she was to play a treacherous part, to worm -her way into the Americans’ confidence in order to -betray them, came to vex her she drove it back. -For years the Long Knives had cheated her people, -had lied to them, had despoiled them, had slain<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span> -them. Treaty after treaty they had made, determining -boundaries which they swore not to cross; -and then, the moment they grew strong enough to -take another forward step, they had broken their -pledges and had surged forward, driving her people -back. Treachery for treachery. Against such -shameless foes all things were fair. If she could -requite them some small proportion of the woe they -had dealt out to her and hers she would glory in -the deed. Afterwards, if they detected her they -might slay her as they pleased—burn her at the -stake if they would. She would show them how a -Shawnee could die.</p> - -<p>Concerning the man in the red coat she thought -very little. She might have to think of him again -at some time in the future, but for the moment he -was one of the things she was leaving behind. He -was an Englishman and therefore her ally, but he -was her father’s foe and therefore hers. After she -had done her duty, after these shameless Americans -had been driven back, after the hatchet had been -buried in victory for her tribe, she would consider -what he had offered. For the moment she merely -wondered idly whether he had come to America -really desirous of putting her in her place across -the water or whether he had come in order to kill -her and take her estates. Either alternative seemed -entirely possible to Alagwa’s Indian-trained mind. -He was of her clan and therefore bound to aid her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span> -loyally. But he was her father’s foe and therefore -was free to kill her and take her property. She -would be slow to trust him. Fortunately she did -not have to trust him now. It never once crossed -the girl’s mind that Captain Count Brito might wish -to wed her rather than kill her or that by so doing -he could easily get possession of her property. -Among the Indians the lover gave presents to the -father of his bride; he did not receive them with -her.</p> - -<p>But, concerning the young chief from the south -of whom Tecumseh had spoken, she did think long -and dubiously. Would she meet him among the -whites to whom she was going and would she know -him if she did meet him? Had he come to Ohio -at all, or had his heart failed him as he faced the -long trail to the north? Had he, like all other -Americans, spoken with a forked tongue when he -promised to come? Had he scorned his Indian-bred -cousin, as she knew his people scorned the -Indians?</p> - -<p>And what was he like? Tecumseh had said that he -was young, big, strong, and fair-haired. Methoataske, -mother of Tecumseh, had spoken—Alagwa remembered -it dimly—of a youth whom she had -adopted into the Panther clan far away to the south -at the edge of the Big Sea Water—a youth with -blue eyes and yellow hair. Alagwa formed a picture -in her mind.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span>Then she caught herself up angrily. After all, -what did it matter. She was not going to meet this -youth. Rather she would avoid him. His people -were at war with hers. He was her enemy. She -would think of him no more.</p> - -<p>Abruptly Wilwiloway halted, stiffening like a -hunting dog. Behind him Alagwa stopped in her -tracks, poising as motionless as some wild thing of -the forest, listening to a rattling and clinking that -came from the narrow, vistaless road that stretched -before her.</p> - -<p>In a moment Wilwiloway turned his head. -“White men come in wagon,” he said. “Squaw -stop here. Wilwiloway go see.” He slipped into -the bushes and was gone.</p> - -<p>Alagwa, with the obedience ingrained into her -since childhood, waited where she stood, peering -through the green foliage that laced across her -eyes.</p> - -<p>Soon a wagon drawn by two mules clattered into -the field of her vision. On the box sat a white man, -driving, with a rifle across his knees. Beside the -wagon walked another white man, with a rifle in the -hollow of his arm. A little behind rode two other -men; one, marvel of marvels, was neither red nor -white, but black; the other—Alagwa caught her -breath—was young and big and fair-haired.</p> - -<p>Abruptly she saw Wilwiloway step into the road -and throw up his hand. “Peace,” he called. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span> -young man on horseback behind threw up his right -palm in answer. “Peace,” he answered, in the -Shawnee tongue, smilingly.</p> - -<p>But as he spoke Alagwa saw the white man on the -box throw up his rifle with a meaning not to be mistaken. -His action swept away her Indian training -in a breath and she sprang forward with a shriek -of warning.</p> - -<p>Too late! The rifle spoke and Wilwiloway reeled -backward, clutching at the air. Against a tree -trunk he fell and held himself up, a dark stain -widening swiftly upon the white of his shirt.</p> - -<p>Alagwa saw red. Wilwiloway was her friend; all -her life she had known him; he had loved her; he -was being foully murdered. With a scream she -snatched her hunting knife from her belt and dashed -to his aid.</p> - -<p>The man in the road saw her coming and fired. -Alagwa knew that he had fired at her, but she did -not mind. What she did mind was that she had -stumbled on something, stumbled so violently that -the shock sent her staggering backward. As she -reeled, she saw the young man on the horse spurring -forward.</p> - -<p>Wilwiloway was still clinging to the tree. He -saw the girl totter and the sight seemed to give -him strength. With a yell of fury he leaped upon -the man in the road, tore from his hands the yet -smoking rifle, and struck with it once—a mighty<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span> -blow that sent the man crashing to the ground, a -crimson furrow across his shattered skull.</p> - -<p>Wilwiloway did not pause. Over the dead form -of his enemy he sprang, leaping upward at the -man on the box, to meet a crashing blow that hurled -him backward and downward into the dust of the -road.</p> - -<p>With a whoop the man on the box sprang to the -ground, knife in hand. An instant later he was up, -waving a bloody trophy. He saw the girl still -clutching at the air and rushed toward her.</p> - -<p>Alagwa saw it all. Wilwiloway was dead, and -she was at the mercy of her enemies. She could not -even move; her legs had grown strangely heavy. -But her spirit rose indomitably. Forgotten was her -white ancestry; once more she was an Indian, trained -in Indian ideals. Steadily she drew herself up, -folded her arms across her breast, and stared unflinchingly -at the coming death. She would show -them how a Shawnee could die. Deliberately she -began to sing the Shawnee death chant:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Behold, the water covers now our feet:</div> -<div class="verse">Rivers must we cross; deep waters must we pass.</div> -<div class="verse">Oh Kawas, hear: To thee we call. Oh come and aid us.</div> -<div class="verse">Help us through the stream to pass and forward go.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Here is the place we seek; here is our journey’s end.</div> -<div class="verse">Here have we come; here is our journey’s end.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span>Her sight was failing, but she sang on. Dimly -she saw the white man with the hunting knife and -behind him the young white chief on his horse coming -like a thunderbolt. She did not heed them. -Round her cool green waves were rising; the forest -was stretching out its arms to pillow her.</p> - -<p>Then came a shock. The young white chief had -driven his horse against the man on the ground, -hurling him backward. “Stop! you d—d -butcher,” he yelled. “Don’t you see it’s a white -boy!” He leaped from his horse and caught the -girl as she fell.</p> - -<p>The touch roused Alagwa to sudden blind terror -and she began to struggle furiously, striking with -soft, harmless hands. Then abruptly a voice sounded -in her ear—a voice gentle yet strong, whimsical yet -comforting.</p> - -<p>“It’s all right, youngster,” it said. “It’s all -right. Nobody’s going to hurt you. We’re white -men—friends! friends! There now, boy, be still!”</p> - -<p>The girl’s eyes lifted to the face that hung above -her. Feverishly they roved over the broad brow, -the fair curling hair, the whimsical blue eyes, the -smiling yet pitiful mouth. As she read their message -terror slipped from her, her strained limbs relaxed, -a sense of peace and safety came over her, -and she drifted away on a sea of blessed unconsciousness.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_080.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">ALAGWA, BEING WOUNDED, IS RESCUED BY JACK TELFAIR</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">SLOWLY the girl came back to life. Even after -she regained consciousness she lay with closed -eyelids, conscious only of a dull pain that -throbbed up and down her right leg. When at last -she opened her eyes she found herself lying upon her -back, staring upward at a canvas top that arched -above her. At her feet, she could see a mass of -tree trunks and interlaced branches, beyond which -gleamed a speck of blue sky. Weakly she turned -her head to right and to left, and saw that she was -lying on a rough bed in a wagon that was piled -high with boxes and bales. Wonderingly she stared, -not understanding.</p> - -<p>Suddenly memory returned. The canvas top dissolved -before her eyes. Once more she saw the -plodding mules, the white men on box and ground, -the smoking rifles, the brief combat, the fall of -Wilwiloway. A spasm of fury swept over her, -shaking her with its intensity. Her teeth ground -together; her fingers clinched until the nails bit into -the soft palms.</p> - -<p>Wilwiloway was dead! Wilwiloway, the kind, the -brave, the generous, was dead, foully and treacherously -murdered by the white men who had despoiled -her people and had driven them step by step<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span> -backward from the Ohio to the great lake. For -years she had bees taught to hate the whites, to -believe them robbers and murderers. And now she -had the proof!</p> - -<p>Oh! How she hated them! How she hated them! -If the chance ever came she would take a revenge -that would make the blood run cold.</p> - -<p>If the chance ever came! The thought brought -her back to her surroundings. What was she doing -in this wagon? Who had put her there? What were -they going to do with her? Cautiously she raised -her head. No one seemed to be near. Perhaps she -could escape!</p> - -<p>With an effort she tried to raise herself, but the -motion sent the blood rushing to her brain and -woke the dull pain in her leg to a sudden swift -agony that made her drop back, half-fainting. Setting -her teeth against the pain she put down her -hand and found that the legging had been removed -from her right leg and that the limb itself had been -bandaged halfway below the knee. She felt for her -hunting knife and found it gone! Despair rushed -over her and she threw her hands to her face, trying -to choke back the dry sobs that shook her.</p> - -<p>As she lay, overwhelmed, a dry branch cracked -outside the wagon and a blustering voice broke the -silence. Alagwa did not understand half the words, -but she caught the purport.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span>“Here! What the h—l are you trying to do,” -demanded the voice. “Gimme back that rifle.”</p> - -<p>For a moment silence reigned. Then another voice—a -voice cool and deliberate—made answer. -Alagwa had heard that voice only once, but she -knew it instantly for that of the young white chief -who had comforted her just before she sank into -unconsciousness.</p> - -<p>“No!” he said. “I won’t give it back to you. -You are under arrest. You have committed a -brutal murder which may rouse all the friendly -Indians against us and may cost the lives of hundreds -of white men, women, and children. If your -errand were not so urgent I’d take you back to -Piqua and turn you over to Colonel Johnson. But -the men at Fort Wayne need your ammunition. So -I’m going to take you to Girty’s Town and if I -don’t find Colonel Johnson there I’ll leave word for -him and take you on to Fort Wayne and turn you -over to the authorities there to be dealt with according -to law.”</p> - -<p>The man laughed scornfully. “You think you’re -right much of a much, don’t you?” he sneered. -“Take me to Fort Wayne, will you? All right! -That’s where I’m bound for. But if you reckon -anybody there’s going to do anything about my -shootin’ an Injun, you’re all-fired wrong. Do anything? -Lord! Yes! They’ll do somethin’. They’ll -give me a prize.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span>“All right! They’ll do as they please. I’m -going to do my part. Now, hand over that knife -in your belt.”</p> - -<p>The man laughed scornfully. “I’ll see you -d—d first,” he gritted.</p> - -<p>“Oh! no! You won’t. Pass it over. Quick, -now.” The voice was chill and definitive. Then -came a pause. Alagwa could imagine the two men -facing each other in the brief mental struggle that -would break the nerve of one of them forever. At -last came the other man’s voice, still surly but -with all the backbone gone out of it. “Take it, -d—n you,” he growled.</p> - -<p>“Very well! Now listen. We’ve got to go -through Girty’s Town, where we’ll probably meet -the friends of the Shawnee you murdered. If I -told them the truth you’d never get through alive. -So I’m going to lie for you. I’m going to throw -all the blame on your dead friend. Understand?”</p> - -<p>The man muttered something that Alagwa could -not hear.</p> - -<p>But the answer came quick. “That’ll do!” -ordered the chill young voice. “You’re a prisoner. -You don’t give advice, you obey orders. You’ll do -as I say till we get to Fort Wayne and you’ll do it -quick. Moreover, I don’t propose to carry you as -a passenger. You’ll do your work right along. -Now climb on that box and start.”</p> - -<p>The man snarled, but climbed upon the box.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span> -Alagwa felt the wagon sway to his weight. She felt -that he was looking at her through the narrow half-circle -in the canvas-closed front, and she closed her -eyes. The next instant she heard his voice:</p> - -<p>“What you going to do with this d— half-breed?” -he demanded.</p> - -<p>“Half-breed! That boy’s as white as you—and -whiter. You keep away from him or you’ll reckon -with me. Understand?”</p> - -<p>“Well! I ain’t hurtin’ him none, am I?” The -man gathered up the reins. “You don’t need be -so durned cantankerous. I just asked what you -was going to do with him.”</p> - -<p>“I’m going to take him to Girty’s Town and -see if I can find his friends. If I can’t find them -I’ll take him on to Fort Wayne.”</p> - -<p>“Humph!” The man lashed the unoffending -mules with his whip. “Git up there!” he ordered. -Then he spoke over his shoulder. “All right,” he -said. “You’ll do as you want, I reckon. If I had -the say I’d kick him out durned quick. An’ I’m -tellin’ you you’ll be blamed sorry before you git shut -of him. Breed or no breed, he’s been brought up -among the Injuns or I ain’t no judge, an’ he’ll never -be no good. Them Injun-bred boys never are. -He’ll turn on you like a snake in the grass. You -hear me.”</p> - -<p>With a jerk and a jolt the wagon rolled off. The -motion sent little thrills of pain through the girl’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span> -bullet-pierced leg, but the turmoil in her mind prevented -her heeding them. Desperately she tried to -control her thoughts. First, her disguise had -held good. The white men thought she was a boy. -Well and good; that was what she wanted them to -think.</p> - -<p>If they had not found her out when she was unconscious -and at their mercy, they would probably -not do so soon. Her entry among them had not been -auspicious, but at least it had been made—and made -in a way that banished the last shred of hesitation -from her heart. They were all robbers and murderers; -gladly would she slay them all.</p> - -<p>But how was she to do it? Tecumseh had told -her that runners would come to her from time -to time to get any information she might have. But -who were these runners; Tecumseh had not told her; -Wilwiloway had not told her. Perhaps the latter -had meant to do so, but had waited until it was too -late. Perhaps, after all, it was not necessary that -she should know them; they would know her and -would come to her.</p> - -<p>But could they find her? Surely Tecumseh had -contemplated no such occurrence as that which -had taken place. Her trail would be broken; the -runners might not find her; her mission would be a -failure. She must watch and wait and snatch at -any chance to send tidings.</p> - -<p>But what were the white men going to do with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span> -her? Evidently they were divided in opinion. One -of them—the man on the box, the man who had -murdered Wilwiloway—would have slain and -scalped her if he had not been prevented; he still -hated her and would maltreat her if he dared. The -other, the young white chief with the blue eyes—Alagwa -wondered whether he could be her kinsman -from the far south—wished her well. He had protected -her. Passionate gratitude rose in the girl’s -heart, but she choked it back. He belonged to the -hated white race; and she—her skin might be white, -but her heart was red, red, red!</p> - -<p>A thudding of hoofs in the dust came from behind -the wagon and a horse thrust his head beneath the -arched top. Behind it appeared the face of the -young white chief, peering into the shadowy depths -of the wagon. From behind the veil of her long -lashes Alagwa watched him.</p> - -<p>A moment later he drew back, but his voice came -distinctly to the girl’s ears. “He hasn’t moved, -Cato,” he said. “I don’t wonder. Poor little devil! -He must have lost half the blood in his little body. -I wonder who in thunder he is? He’s no half-breed, -I’ll warrant.”</p> - -<p>“Ha’f-breed? Ha’f-breed? You mean ha’f-Injun, -Mars’ Jack? No, suh, he ain’t no ha’f-breed, -he ain’t. He’s quality, sure. He’s got de littlest -hands and feet I ever see’d on a man. He ain’t no -half-strainer, he ain’t.” Words, accent, and intonation<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span> -were all strange to the girl; she understood only -that the man was speaking of her and that his -tones were friendly.</p> - -<p>The other’s answer came promptly. “Oh! Yes! -He’s of good stock, all right,” he said. “But -confound it, who <i>is</i> he? And where in thunder -did he come from? Was he with that Indian or was -he trying to get away from him? And what in -thunder did he come bounding out of those bushes -for just in time to stop a bullet? I wish he’d wake -up and tell us about himself.”</p> - -<p>Cato’s voice came again. “He sure do look -mighty white, Mars’ Jack,” he commented. “You -reckon he gwine die?”</p> - -<p>“Die nothing! The wound isn’t anything. But -he’s lost a lot of blood and he’s got to be looked -after. Confound it! It’s bad enough to have to -take charge of this wagon without having to look -out for a fool boy into the bargain.”</p> - -<p>A fool boy! Indignation swelled in the girl’s -bosom. A fool boy, indeed. What right had -he——</p> - -<p>But the voice went on and she listened. “Confound -those infernal fools that had to go shooting -down an Indian just because he was an Indian.”</p> - -<p>Cato’s reply came slowly. “You sure dat Injun -gem’man didn’t mean no harm, Mars’ Jack?” he -questioned, doubtfully.</p> - -<p>“Mean any harm! Why, he had made the peace<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span> -sign and had dropped his rifle. It was sheer murder -to shoot him, and I’m mighty glad he took his -vengeance before he died. But I’ll have the dickens -and all of a time explaining to the chiefs at Girty’s -Town.”</p> - -<p>“Girty’s Town! Whar dat, Mars’ Jack?”</p> - -<p>“That’s a Shawnee village just ahead here. -There’s no way around it and we’ve got to go -through it.”</p> - -<p>“You—you gwine drive right through without -stoppin’, Mars’ Jack, ain’t you, suh?”</p> - -<p>“No! I’m going to report what has happened. -I’ve got to set things right. The Indians about -here are supposed to be friendly and I’ve got to do -what I can to keep them so. War hasn’t begun yet, -and anyway, I’m here on invitation from Tecumseh -himself.”</p> - -<p>Cato’s teeth began to chatter. “You—you ain’t -gwine into dat Injun village and tell ’em about what -done happen, is you, Mars’ Jack?” he faltered.</p> - -<p>“Certainly I am. I’ve got to see that this ammunition -gets through safely to Fort Wayne, -haven’t I? Our men will need it soon. I don’t want -to go there. I want to go to Wapakoneta and get -Miss Estelle. But I’ve got to go. So the best -I can do is to see Colonel Johnson, or send him word -about this business and send Tecumseh word that -I’m coming back as quick as I can to redeem my -promise.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span>Alagwa understood not more than half of what -she heard, but she gathered its purport. Jack’s -last words settled his identity once for all. Beyond -a doubt he was the young white chief from the -south. She understood, too, that he had had no -part in the killing of Wilwiloway and that he was -glad that the murderer had been punished. A soft -comfort stole into the girl’s heart as she realized -that she would have no blood feud against him. She -had only to call to him and to show him the trinkets -that Tecumseh had given her, and all would be -well. Impulsively she opened her mouth to speak; -then closed it again. What was she doing? Had -she forgotten her mission? Had she forgotten the -slaying of Wilwiloway? Was his murderer to go -unpunished? No! A thousand times! No!</p> - -<p>Jack’s voice broke in on her thoughts. “There’s -Girty’s Town just ahead,” he remarked. “See -that your scalp is tight on your head, Cato.”</p> - -<p>Girty’s Town! The words struck the girl like a -blow. For the first time she realized that the wagon -was taking her, not toward Piqua, not toward the -camps of the white men for which she had set out, -but away from them, back toward Girty’s Town -and the St. Marys river. Often had she visited -Girty’s Town and well she knew all the two score -Shawnees who dwelt within it. Her revenge was -ready to her hand; in a moment she would be in the -midst of the warriors; then she would have only<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span> -to rise in her place and call to them that Wilwiloway -had been murdered, foully and treacherously, and -that she herself had been shot by the man on the box, -and they would hurl themselves upon him and drag -him down. Her blood ran hot at the thought.</p> - -<p>Then suddenly it cooled. The young white chief -would not stand tamely by while his prisoner was -killed. He would fight! He would fight hard. He -would kill many of her people. But he would be -pulled down at last and—and—No! Not that! Not -that! Her revenge must wait.</p> - -<p>Besides, Tecumseh had not sent her south to -fight but to spy. If she called for vengeance on the -murderer of Wilwiloway she betrayed herself and -wrecked her mission. No! she must wait. There -would be other chances.</p> - -<p>But her friends in the village would know her! -What would she say to them? Abruptly she remembered -the saving grace of her costume. All -the Indians knew her as a girl with painted cheeks, -fillet-bound forehead, and long braids of hair. Not -one had seen her in shirt and breeches with clean-washed -cheeks and short hair that curled upon her -forehead. In such a guise perhaps even their sharp -eyes might fail to recognize her.</p> - -<p>The road grew smoother and she realized that the -wagon was within the village. A moment later it -halted and the pad of running feet and the murmur -of voices arose about it. Jack’s voice arose,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span> -telling of what had happened and expressing his -regret, but presenting the facts so as to screen the -living murderer and lay the blame on the dead man.</p> - -<p>A small hole in the canvas cover of the wagon was -close to her face. She glanced toward the man -on the box and saw that he was cowering back, -listening with strained ears to Jack’s words and -paying no attention to her movements. Gingerly -she moved till her eye was at the hole.</p> - -<p>“I know not the name of the dead chief,” Jack -finished. “But I saw upon his breast a token like -to that upon my own.” He tore open his shirt and -disclosed a mark, at sight of which a chorus of -gutteral exclamations arose. “Great is my grief,” -he went on, “that the chief is slain. He, however, -took vengeance before he died. He killed the man -who killed him. I go now to Fort Wayne in the -service of the Great White Father. In three days -I will return to speak more fully of this before the -white chief, Colonel Johnson.”</p> - -<p>For a moment there was silence, then an Indian—Alagwa -knew him as Blue Jacket, friend of the -whites—stepped forward. “My brother speaks -well,” he said. “Far be it from me to doubt my -brother’s word. But some of my tribe have dug up -the hatchet. If my brother goes now, perhaps the -white men will say that the rest of us are snakes -in the grass and that we lay in wait for the white -man and slew him. Perchance they may descend<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span> -upon our village in wrath and may drive our young -men to take the warpath. Will not my brother -stay and speak with a straight tongue to our father, -Colonel Johnson?”</p> - -<p>Jack shook his head. “I can not stay,” he answered. -“I must hurry to Fort Wayne. The -Seventeen Fires command it. But I will leave a -letter for Colonel Johnson. I will tell him that -your hearts are good. If you will take it to him all -will be well.”</p> - -<p>The chief grunted with approval. “My brother -speaks well,” he said. “We will send the letter to -Colonel Johnson, who is even now at Wapakoneta. -Some of my young men shall bring in the bodies for -him to see.”</p> - -<p>Jack took a notebook from his pocket and wrote -an account of the tragedy of the morning on two -of its pages. These he tore out and handed to Blue -Jacket. “This will make all safe!” he said.</p> - -<p>The chief took it with grave thanks. “All shall -be as my brother says,” he promised.</p> - -<p>Jack nodded. “It is well,” he said. “Now -one other thing I would ask. I come hither at the -request of Tecumseh, to take council with him concerning -a great matter. Will you bear him word -that I am called away on duty but will return in -five days.”</p> - -<p>The chief shook his head. “I can not. Tecumseh<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span> -has gone north with many braves. Already he is -far away!”</p> - -<p>“Humph!” Jack’s face fell. He had counted on -finding Tecumseh and receiving the girl from his -hands. Just what to do he did not know. If -Tecumseh had gone north to join the British, war -must be even nearer at hand than he had supposed. -Perhaps it had already begun. Whether it had or -not his first duty was to the country; he must make -sure that the ammunition reached Fort Wayne -safely; all private affairs must wait on that! Yet -his anxiety as to the girl was growing fast.</p> - -<p>“Let my brother listen,” he said. “A month -ago a runner from Tecumseh came to me where I -dwelt far away on the big sea water to the south. -He sent me this belt”—Jack held out the belt—“and -he called upon me as a member of the -Panther clan, raised up by his mother, Methoataske, -to come to Wapakoneta and receive there at his -hands a white maiden, Alagwa by name, a kinswoman -of my own, who had dwelt in his lodge since -the death of her father, the chief Delaroche. Knows -my brother of this maiden?”</p> - -<p>Blue Jacket bowed. “I know her,” he said.</p> - -<p>Jack resumed. “For her I come,” he said. -“But I find Tecumseh gone. Know you where he -has placed the maiden?”</p> - -<p>Blue Jacket did not answer at once. Apparently -he was turning the matter over in his mind. Through<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span> -the hole in the canvas Alagwa watched him narrowly, -hanging on his words quite as anxiously as -did Jack. At last he beckoned a boy to his side and -gave him instructions in a low voice. Then he -turned to Jack.</p> - -<p>“The maiden was at Wapakoneta in Tecumseh’s -lodge yesterday,” he said. “I would say that she -was there still but that another white chief—a chief -from the north wearing a red coat—came to me an -hour ago from Wapakoneta asking tidings of -her.”</p> - -<p>“A white chief? In a red coat?” Jack gasped. -The redcoat officer could be only Brito, but that he -should dare to come down from Canada in the existing -state of international affairs took Jack’s breath -away. “Did he find her?” he asked. “Where -is he?”</p> - -<p>“He has not found her. He is still here. I have -sent for him.” Blue jacket pointed. “He comes!” -he finished.</p> - -<p>Advancing through the Indian village came a big -man in the uniform of a British officer. Alagwa -recognized him instantly as he who had claimed -kinship with her only the day before. Easily and -gracefully he strode along the path toward the -wagon. As he drew near his eyes singled out Jack.</p> - -<p>“Ah!” he said, halting. “You have news of the -girl, fellow? Let me have it at once!”</p> - -<p>Jack flushed hotly. He was young—not half the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span> -age of the man who was addressing him—and he -lacked the easy assurance that the other had gained -by years of experience in the great world. Bitterly -he resented Captain Brito’s tones, but he tried to -keep himself in check. He must uphold the blood -of the American Telfairs but he must not play the -boor before this fashionable cousin of his.</p> - -<p>“Your pardon, sir!” he said, deliberately, “but -to whom have I the honor of speaking.” In his -voice was an uncontrollable catch, born of excitement.</p> - -<p>Captain Brito stared. “Well! I’m d—d,” he -exclaimed, laughing shortly. “If the fellow doesn’t -take himself seriously! Come! My good man; I -haven’t time for nonsense. Where is the girl?”</p> - -<p>Jack met his eyes squarely. His agitation was -dying away and his nerves were momently steadying. -“First, you will please to answer my question,” -he said. “Who are you?”</p> - -<p>A snarl curled Captain Brito’s lips, and his breath -quickened a little. “Damnation!” he began. Then -he caught himself up. Jack’s eyes were chill, and -the captain apparently decided that compliance -would quickest gain his ends.</p> - -<p>“I am Captain Count Telfair,” he said, “of His -Majesty’s Forty-First Foot. Now, sir, your -news!” He drew out a purse. “You will be well -paid for it,” he finished contemptuously.</p> - -<p>Jack paid no attention to the last words. His<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span> -flush had faded and his cheeks were very white. -“I am Jaqueline Telfair, of Alabama,” he said, deliberately; -“and I demand to know the errand that -brings a British officer into American territory at -this time.”</p> - -<p>Captain Brito’s eyes widened with astonishment. -“Well! I’m cursed,” he gasped. Then, with a -sudden change of tone, he went on: “Can it be -possible that I have chanced upon my American -cousin? Yes! Yes! Now that you tell me, I do -see the family features. We have ever run close to -type, we Telfairs; even in America”—Captain -Brito grunted—“you have kept the likeness. I’m -glad to meet you, cousin!” He held out his hand.</p> - -<p>Jack took it. But his face did not lighten. “And -I you,” he said courteously, but not enthusiastically. -“As a kinsman I am glad to welcome you to -America. But as an American I am obliged to repeat -my question. What are you, a British officer, -doing here in Ohio?”</p> - -<p>Captain Brito shrugged his shoulders. “Egad!” -he said. “You are”—he paused; a startled expression -came upon his face. “Has war been declared?” -he demanded, eagerly.</p> - -<p>“Not that I know of!” Jack spoke coldly. “If -it had been, I should be compelled to arrest you out -of hand, cousin or no cousin.” Captain Brito -laughed shortly, but Jack did not pause. “But it -is well known that British emissaries are in this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span> -country trying to stir up the Indians to war against -the whites. If you are one of those devils——”</p> - -<p>“You would feel it your duty to arrest me. -Egad! Mr. Jaqueline Telfair, paragon of all the -virtues, I almost wish I were one of those patriotic -and self-sacrificing servants of His Majesty, so as -to put your fine ideas of duty to the test. Unfortunately, -I can claim no such honor. I am here -on a private matter—By God!” Captain Brito -broke off, staring.</p> - -<p>“Well, sir!”</p> - -<p>“Of course!” Captain Brito began to laugh -softly. “Of course! I was a fool not to guess -sooner. You are after the girl, the heiress! Well! -Well! To think of it! You virtuous Americans -seem to be as keen after the dollar as we ‘devils -of Englishmen!’”</p> - -<p>Jack did not even flush. He attempted no denial. -“Her father, Delaroche Telfair, hated you and -your house,” he said, coldly. “He foresaw that -his daughter might inherit the French estates. At -any rate he swore that his daughter should never -fall into your hands, and he warned Tecumseh -against you. Perhaps he was wrong, but that is -what he did, and both Tecumseh and I respect his -wishes. At all events the girl shall not be driven -or humbugged into marriage with you if I can prevent -it. She shall have free choice after she knows -who she is and what she possesses.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span>Jack’s voice was steady and his eyes did not -flinch. Uncompromisingly he faced the elder man, -and the latter stared back as determinedly and far -more fiercely.</p> - -<p>Physically the two men looked not unequal. -Their weight was practically the same. Captain -Brito was heavier, but at least part of his weight -was fat, and his movements were slower and less -springy than Jack’s. How the two compared in -strength and in endurance only actual test could -tell.</p> - -<p>For a moment Brito said nothing. Then, suddenly -he reached out his hand and clutched Jack by -the shoulder, changing as he did so from the languid, -supercilious gentleman to a devil with snarling lips. -“Hark you! Young man,” he grated. “Estelle -Telfair is to be my wife. Understand that once -for all! If you think to prevent it or to win her -for yourself, abandon your plans and go back to -your home if you love life. I am the head of the -house. The estates should be mine and I intend -to have them in spite of all the Americans out of -h—l. I’ll brook no interference from a boy like you—or -from any one else. Understand?”</p> - -<p>Jack flung the man off with a swing that sent -him staggering backward, despite his height and -weight. “That is as may be,” he said steadily. -“I accept your defiance and I am ready to go<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span> -further into it with you at any moment you desire.” -He leaned forward, his blue eyes flashing.</p> - -<p>Captain Brito steadied himself. His breath was -coming quickly. His hand closed on the hilt of his -sword till his knuckles gleamed white. Then he -shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Not now,” he said. “Your friends”—he -glanced at the watching Indians—“are too numerous. -They are too cowardly to follow Tecumseh -northward to fight for their homes and liberty, but -they are not too cowardly to join you against a -single man. Besides, I have no time to waste on -boys. Later—we will see. Remember, my warning -stands.”</p> - -<p>Jack shrugged his shoulders. The honors, for the -moment at least, were his. “I accept your statement -that you are here only on personal business,” -he said, slowly. “Therefore I let you go. But I -shall send word of your presence to Colonel Johnson -and I doubt whether he will accept such an explanation. -I advise you to be gone.”</p> - -<p>Brito laughed. He had regained much of his -coolness. “Egad!” he said. “That’s good advice! -Au revoir, cousin, au revoir—till we meet -again.” With a wave of his hand he turned and -strode away.</p> - -<p>As he disappeared among the huts a voice struck -on Jack’s ear. “Talk! Talk! Talk!” it said. -“Much palaver! And it never does no good. I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span> -been a-listening and a-listening and you never got -nowhere till he grabbed you and you flung him off. -That brought the cuss to terms mighty quick. -There ain’t nothing like a little muscle to clear up -trouble. I thought for a minute he was a-going to -fight. Lord! I’d ’a liked to seen a fight between you -two. It would be——”</p> - -<p>“Rogers!” Jack broke in on the old man’s -monologue; a solution of the problem that was -troubling him had suddenly dawned. “I’m glad to -see you. Can you do something for me?”</p> - -<p>“I reckon so. I told you I could guide you——”</p> - -<p>“All right. I’ll engage you.” Jack drew out his -purse. “Here’s two months’ pay in advance. Hunt -up Colonel Johnson and tell him all you’ve heard—about -my cousin, Miss Estelle Telfair, and about -this British officer and all. Ask him to find her and -care for her till I get back from Fort Wayne. Put -yourself under his orders and do just as he says. -I’ll be back in about a week.”</p> - -<p>The old hunter nodded. “I’ll do it,” he declared. -“Money talks in Ohio same as elsewhere. -And it talks a heap eloquenter than tongues——”</p> - -<p>From the seat of the wagon Williams leaned forward. -“Say, old man,” he called. “I want to -speak to you before you go. I can’t——”</p> - -<p>“Ain’t got time now. See you later.” Deliberately -Rogers turned his back and trotted away.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span> -Clearly he had not forgotten the slight that -Williams had put upon him the day before.</p> - -<p>Jack turned to Williams. “Go ahead,” he -ordered.</p> - -<p>Alagwa started. Absorbed in the conversation, -she had forgotten her own situation and the pressing -need that she should get word of her movements -to Tecumseh. Now abruptly she remembered. She -was leaving Girty’s Town without having been seen -by any one. Clearly Jack had forgotten her. Not -once in his talk with Blue Jacket had he mentioned -her part in the tragedy of the morning. He had -asked no one to identify her. In another moment -she would be gone. Her trail would be broken and -the runners from Tecumseh would be unable to pick -it up. Anxiously, she rolled back from the peep hole -and half raised herself, hesitating whether to call -out. Then she stopped with a gasp.</p> - -<p>At the rear of the wagon, looking in, stood an -Indian. How long he had been there she did not -know; but as her eyes met his he made a swift sign -for silence.</p> - -<p>“Tecumseh send. I follow,” he muttered, in the -Shawnee tongue. “Call like a whip-poor-will when -you want.” Another moment and he was gone.</p> - -<p>Alagwa dropped back on her couch and closed -her eyes and lay still. As the wagon rolled away -her heart was beating high. The runners had found -her. The broken trail was whole again.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE sun was visibly declining toward the west -when the wagon, driven by Williams and -followed by Jack Telfair and Cato, rumbled -out of Girty’s Town and took the road down the St. -Marys river.</p> - -<p>The road led through the Black Swamp, that -great morass of water-soaked quagmire that covered -all northwestern Ohio, stretching forty miles from -north to south and one hundred and twenty miles -from east to west, from Fort Wayne to the Cuyahoga -and the Western Reserve. All over it giant trees -soared heavenward, springing from sunlight-starved -ground on which no undergrowth could root. Between -lay fallen limbs and rotting tree trunks, thick -water-soaked moss, and carpets of moldering leaves, -layer upon layer. No one that once crossed it ever -forgot the treacherous quicksands that hid beneath -the blighted plants, the crumbling logs half sunk -in shiny pools where copperheads lay in wait, the -low-hung branches that dripped moisture to the -stunted vegetation, the clouds of venomous mosquitoes, -the brilliant flies that clustered upon the -dead even before it was dead, the labyrinths of tortuous -runways. Except at midday no ray of sunlight -ever penetrated the canopy of interlaced<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span> -branches that arched overhead and that, to a soaring -bird, must have looked as solid and unbroken as -a grassy field.</p> - -<p>Underfoot the ground was spongy with standing -water that moved sluggishly, if at all, through -creeks and rivers almost level with the surface. -Shallow pools, alive with water-snakes, were everywhere.</p> - -<p>A few roads, so-called, ran through this swamp. -Mad Anthony Wayne had chopped a way through -it from Greenville to Fort Defiance, what time -he crushed the Miamis’ pride and retrieved Harmer’s -and St. Clair’s defeats. Hull and his army were -even then carving another road through it from -Urbana to Detroit and disgrace and defeat. A -third road, little more than a trail, followed down -the Auglaize. Across these north-south passways -ran the east-west road that Jack was following down -the St. Marys, from Girty’s Town to Fort Wayne.</p> - -<p>The road was not much of a road. Rather, it was -an Indian trail, broadened by white men, who had -hewed down the great trees that had stood along it, -making a rutted stump-encumbered mudhole-filled -passage, through which a wagon must move slowly -and perilously. Once started along it the teamster -must go on. There was no place to turn aside -and few places when it was possible to turn back.</p> - -<p>Jack had no thought of turning back. He was -pressing forward with feverish haste. Fort Wayne<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span> -was eighty miles way—a four days’ journey which -Jack hoped to make in three. He was wild to seek -his kinswoman before it was too late. But he could -not shirk his self-appointed task. The departure -of Tecumseh and his braves for the north to join -the British warned him anew that war was imminent -and that ammunition might be sorely needed in the -fort. As a matter of fact war had already been -declared and couriers were speeding north, west, -and south from Washington bearing the news. One -was about to find General Hull at Fort Findlay, -which he had just built in the middle of the Black -Swamp.</p> - -<p>Throughout the long afternoon Alagwa lay quiet -in the wagon, steadily gaining her physical strength -though not attaining any great degree of mental -quietude. Her brain, in fact, was whirling. Within -two days she had passed through experiences more -outside her usual routine than she had undergone -in all her life before. First had come Captain Brito -with his claims of kinship and his tales of another -land; then had followed Tecumseh’s narration of -the circumstances under which she had come under -his care, her appeal to be allowed to help those who -had helped her, and her assignment to duty; next -had come her disguise, her start southward, its -tragic ending and her finding of the young white -chief, her kinsman; last had been the meeting of -the two white men and the illuminating discourse<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span> -between them. Over all hung the memory of the -runner who was trailing her through the forest, -ready to bear her messages to Tecumseh and her -friends.</p> - -<p>Most of all her thoughts centered on Jack and -Brito. Much of their talk she had been unable to -understand, but certain parts of it had been burnt -into her consciousness. First, she had great possessions—possessions -greatly coveted by white men. -Tecumseh had said that all white men would commit -any crime to get wealth; and she had accepted his -statement as a general fact not to be disputed. All -her life she had been taught to believe it. And now -these two white men, her kinsmen, had in a way confirmed -it, for each clearly believed that the other -was seeking her, not for her own sake, but for what -was hers.</p> - -<p>Could both be right, she wondered? Could both -have bad hearts and forked tongues? She remembered -that Captain Brito had not told her of -her possessions but had pretended that he had come -for her as a matter of duty. His words concerning -this had been forked, and she found it easy to believe -that they would be forked concerning other things. -But the other—the young white chief! Was he false -also? No doubt he was, she decided scornfully; his -clear eyes and frank brow were merely a disguise -behind which he could best gain his ends. All -white men were bad and he was no exception. She<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span> -was a prisoner and she would probably be in his -company for some time to come. By the aid of her -boy’s disguise (Ah! But she was thankful for it) -she would find him out—would find that he, too, was -seeking her for her wealth. Then she could hate -him as she should.</p> - -<p>Tired of lying prone she tried to sit up and -managed to do so without feeling the access of dizziness -and pain that had attended her former effort. -She moved silently, as she had been trained to do -by her life with the Indians, and her change of -position did not attract the notice of Williams, -who was driving stolidly along. Almost instantly, -however, the rear of the wagon was darkened by a -horse’s head and above it she saw the smiling blue -eyes of the young chief.</p> - -<p>“Well, youngster!” he called, merrily. “How -are you? Feeling better?”</p> - -<p>Color flooded the girl’s cheeks as she gazed at -him. He was even pleasanter-looking than her -memory had told her. From his broad forehead to -his square, resolute chin and smiling, trustful mouth, -he was all she could have hoped. She felt her carefully -nurtured distrust melting and strove to call it -back.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she answered, with a sudden catch of her -breath. “Yes. Better.”</p> - -<p>“That’s good.” Jack pushed back his hat and -wiped away the perspiration that stood upon his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span> -brow. “You are not much hurt, really,” he went -on. “The bullet cut the artery of your leg and -you lost a whole lot of blood; in fact, you were -pretty nearly drained dry before I could stop it. -Except for that it didn’t do much harm, and as soon -as you get back your strength you’ll be up and -about.”</p> - -<p>The girl nodded slowly. “You are very good,” -she said.</p> - -<p>Jack shrugged away her comment. “I didn’t -know where you were going,” he insinuated, “or how -you came to be where you were, but I couldn’t stop, -and of course I couldn’t leave you, so I just bundled -you into the wagon and brought you along. I was -bound for Wapakoneta but I’ve had to turn off to -Fort Wayne instead, so that’s where we’re going. -I hope it meets your approval.” He ended with a -smile.</p> - -<p>The girl understood that she was being questioned. -She had determined what to say and she -answered quickly, in fairly good English, noticing -that Williams was listening as she spoke. “I come -from Wapakoneta!”</p> - -<p>Jack stared. “You mean you lived there with -the Indians?”</p> - -<p>“For many moons I have lived there. I know no -other life but that.”</p> - -<p>“You were a prisoner?”</p> - -<p>“Prisoner! No! Yes! Perhaps you call it so.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span> -I think the Shawnees carry me away from somewhere -when I am a child. I have lived with them -ever since. They were good to me. I travel the -long trail south with the chief Wilwiloway when that -wicked white man kill him.”</p> - -<p>Jack’s face darkened. “It was a brutal murder,” -he said, sharply, glancing at Williams. “It shall -be punished. But what is your name? Where -do your friends live? Where do you want to go?”</p> - -<p>The girl shook her head. “I do not know what -my name was before I came to the Shawnees,” she -answered, slowly. “The Indians call me Bobapanawe.”</p> - -<p>“Bobapanawe. That means ‘lightning,’ doesn’t -it?” Jack laughed. “It suits you all right, but -I’m afraid it’s too much of a mouthful. I’ll call -you Bob, if you don’t object. I suppose you don’t -know anything about your friends?”</p> - -<p>The girl shook her head. “I have no friends except -among the Shawnees,” she answered. “Perhaps -I had better go back to them.” As she spoke -she half closed her eyes, but through her long, -curling eyelashes she watched Jack’s face.</p> - -<p>“Go back to the Indians! Great Scott! You -can’t do that.”</p> - -<p>“But where then shall I go?”</p> - -<p>“Well——” Jack scratched his head—“we’ll -have to think about that. Maybe we’ll be able to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span> -find out something about your people when we get -to Fort Wayne.”</p> - -<p>The wagon had been moving slower and slower, -the tired mules showing little desire to hasten. As -Jack finished speaking they stopped short, and -Williams turned around.</p> - -<p>“Say!” he said. “These mules are plumb wore -out. We got to stop unless you want to kill ’em.”</p> - -<p>Jack rode to the front of the wagon and stared -ahead through the dimming corridors of coming -night. All afternoon the wagon had been moving -through a deepening gloom, and now the darkness -seemed to have shut down. One single patch of blue -sky, far ahead, told where the road came out for a -moment on the bank of the river, and showed that -the sun had not yet set.</p> - -<p>“There seems to be an opening a couple of hundred -yards ahead,” he said. “We’ll stop there. -Drive on if you can.”</p> - -<p>Williams cracked the whip and shouted, but -the tired mules refused to respond, until Cato came -forward.</p> - -<p>“Dat ain’t no way to treat a mule, massa,” he -said. “Lemme try what I can do, massa, please -do, suh.”</p> - -<p>Williams flung down the reins and jumped from -the wagon to the ground. Anger and fear had sadly -frayed his temper. “Try what you d— please,” -he growled, and walked ahead, leaving Cato to coax<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span> -the mules to a fresh effort that brought the wagon -at last to the spot that Jack had selected.</p> - -<p>As the wagon stopped, Jack went to the back. -“Come out, youngster,” he ordered, kindly. “It’ll -do you good to stand and move about a little.” He -held out his arms as he spoke.</p> - -<p>But the girl shrank back. “I can get out alone,” -she faltered.</p> - -<p>Jack grinned. “All right!” he agreed, cheerfully. -“Try it if you like. I’ll catch you if you -fall.” He stood back and waited.</p> - -<p>Cautiously the girl clambered out and down. She -reached the ground safely, but as her weight came -upon her wounded leg, she tottered and would have -fallen if Jack had not caught her and held her up, -while the swimming world spun round.</p> - -<p>Her pride vanished and she clung to him desperately, -feeling again the curious sense of safety -that she had felt when he had held her a few hours -before. She clung fast until the rush of blood to -her temples quieted; then, as she straightened herself, -she heard Jack’s voice.</p> - -<p>“Bravo!” he cried. “You’re doing fine. Just -a step or two—a step or two. There! That’s it.” -She felt herself lowered to a seat upon a great limestone -boulder that protruded from the mold close -against a big tree. “How does your wound feel -now?”</p> - -<p>“Good!” The girl stretched her leg cautiously.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span>“I guess I’d better not disturb the dressings tonight,” -went on the boy, doubtfully. “I did the -best I could this morning, and it would probably do -more harm than good to fool with them. What do -you think.”</p> - -<p>“Wound does very well.” Not for worlds would -Alagwa have submitted it to his inspection.</p> - -<p>Jack slipped away and the girl leaned back -against the tree and looked about her curiously. -The outer world, dark as it was with the shadows of -coming night, looked good to her after the long -hours she had spent in the gloom of the wagon. -Fresh blood was filling her veins and her spirits were -reviving. She had not forgotten Wilwiloway and -his cruel murder, but her memory had been blurred -both by weakness and by the rush of new sensations.</p> - -<p>The spot, though by no means ideal for a camp, -was probably the best that the region afforded. It -was on a low ridge or dune of sand, part of an -ancient beach heaped up when Lake Erie spread -far beyond its modern bounds. It stood three or -four feet instead of only as many inches above the -sluggish river. On the near bank a giant oak, -undermined by the stream through uncounted years, -had toppled sideways until its branches swept the -dark water. The sunlight had slipped in along the -slit made by the river and had rested on the -mold, stirring it to life. For a hundred feet or<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span> -more a thick mat of pea-vines and annis grass -bordered the stream, and toward these the tired -mules were straining, even while Cato was loosening -their harness. Close beneath the leaning tree Jack -was kindling a fire, small, after the Indian fashion, -but sufficient for their needs. Williams was chopping -down some bushes that had found lodgment on -either side of the tree. No one was paying any attention -to Alagwa.</p> - -<p>Later, however, after Cato, who like most of his -race was a born cook, had prepared the supper of -wild turkey and fat bacon and cornpone, Jack -glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Then -he called to Cato: “Fetch the grub over here, -Cato,” he ordered, pointing to the great boulder -on which the girl sat. “This stone will do for a -table.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa’s heart warmed. Instinctively she knew -that he had chosen the supper place for her convenience.</p> - -<p>Night came on while they were eating. The red -tints that stretched up from the west faded to palest -gray. Closer and closer in drew the forest till it -seemed to press like a wall upon the little band, -blotting out their forms and leaving only the dim -glimmer of their pale faces. Cato’s darker skin it -hid altogether. Beneath the leaning trees the dying -fire glowed like a red eye. To the south the strip of -water reflected what little light was left.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span>With the closing in of the night the four grew -very still, thinking their own thoughts and dreaming -their own dreams.</p> - -<p>Jack was pondering on his mission to Tecumseh -and on his failure to reach the Indian chief. Had -he done right, he wondered, to quit his chosen trail, -especially in view of Brito Telfair’s appearance on -the scene? Could not Williams and his ammunition -have reached Fort Wayne in safety without his aid? -Would Rogers be able to do anything? Suppose he -should never find this kinswoman of his? Suppose -she lost her life by reason of his delay? For a moment -his turning aside looked to him unnecessary, -ridiculous, quixotic. Then he set his teeth. No! -He had done right. Fort Wayne was of enormous -importance to the country; on its holding might depend -the safety of the whole northwest. The government -had been mad to send ammunition without adequate -escort through a possibly hostile country, but -the madness of the government did not excuse him -from doing what he could to retrieve the blunder and -to stop the frightful consequences that might easily -result from the murder of the Shawnee.</p> - -<p>Williams had been moving uneasily; he had had -time to meditate on his position, and he had lost -much of his confidence. Abruptly he spoke. -“Say!” he said. “Can’t we fix this thing up before -we get to Fort Wayne? ’Spose I did do wrong<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span> -in shootin’ that Injun? ’Spose he did make a peace -sign? I’d didn’t know it. He jumped outer those -bushes and flung up his hand an’ I thought he was -goin’ to jump us, an’ I banged loose without stoppin’ -to think. It was my fault. I’ll own up. But -it’s done an’ can’t be undone. What’s the use of -stirrin’ things up?”</p> - -<p>Jack did not answer for a time. At last he spoke -slowly, with the uncompromising severity of youth. -“You committed a wanton murder,” he said, “a -murder that caused the death of two men. It may -be that you will get off scot free, considering the -state of affairs. I rather think you will. But if -you do, I tell you frankly it will be by no aid of -mine. Now, you and Cato had better lie down and -get some sleep. It’s late and we must start early tomorrow. -I’ll keep watch.”</p> - -<p>Williams obeyed promptly, though surlily, -slouching off to his blanket beneath the great leaning -tree.</p> - -<p>Alagwa stared after him. “Will you not tie -him?” she asked, incredulously.</p> - -<p>Jack chuckled. “Not I,” he said. “If he wants -to slip away in the night, let him. It would save me -some trouble. Go to bed, Cato.”</p> - -<p>Cato, however, demurred. “Ain’t you goin’ to let -me help you watch, Mars’ Jack?” he questioned.</p> - -<p>Jack looked at him and grinned. “Think you<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span> -can keep awake, Cato?” he asked. “Sure you -won’t get to thinking about Mandy or Sue and go -to sleep?”</p> - -<p>“Now, Mars’ Jack, you knows mighty well——”</p> - -<p>“I know mighty well you’ll do your best, Cato. -Go lie down, now. I’ll call you at midnight and let -you keep the midwatch.”</p> - -<p>When Cato had bedded himself down not far from -Williams, Jack turned to Alagwa. “Are you ready -for bed, youngster?” he asked. “If you’re not too -sleepy, I’d like to ask you a few questions.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa’s heart fluttered. What did he want, this -wonderful white man, this stranger who was yet a -kinsman, this enemy with the friendly blue eyes? -“I am not sleepy,” she faltered.</p> - -<p>“I won’t keep you up long. You know Tecumseh, -of course?”</p> - -<p>Somehow the girl felt disappointed. “Yes,” she -said. “I know him.”</p> - -<p>“Then,” Jack hesitated, “do you know a white -girl that has grown up in his lodge—a girl a little -older than yourself, I reckon. Her father died and -left her with him about ten years ago. Do you -know her?”</p> - -<p>What possessed Alagwa, she never knew. Perhaps -it was merely the eternal feminine instinct to mislead -the male. Almost without hesitation she answered. -“Yes,” she said, slowly. “I have see her,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span> -but men do not associate with squaws. I see her -little.”</p> - -<p>“What does she look like?”</p> - -<p>The girl shrugged her shoulders. “She is dark, -very dark, darker than the Indians,” she said. -“She has black eyes and square face. I not know -she is white till some one tell me. She look like a -Shawnee.”</p> - -<p>Jack’s face fell. “Oh! I say!” he exclaimed. -“That’s too bad. I was told that she was very -pretty.”</p> - -<p>The girl’s lip curled. “You not like her unless -she is pretty?” she questioned, scornfully.</p> - -<p>Jack laughed. “Of course, I’ll like her whether -she is pretty or not,” he answered. “She is a cousin -of mine, and I’ll like her whatever she looks like. -Do you know where she is now?”</p> - -<p>Alagwa hesitated. “I see her yesterday at -Wapakoneta,” she answered.</p> - -<p>“You did! Then Tecumseh did not take her with -him?”</p> - -<p>“No, Tecumseh took only warriors. Women do -not go on the warpath. Why do you seek her?”</p> - -<p>The night had grown lighter. A silvery glimmer, -resting on the tops of the trees above the river, -showed that the moon was mounting. Against the -sky the nearer branches waved gently, ebony laced -on silver. Stray moonbeams spotted the lower -branches.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span>Jack stared at the mirror-like water for some -time before he answered. At last, quite simply, he -told the story. “You see, it’s a point of honor,” -he finished. “Our branch is bound to help her -branch, when need arises, just as Indian clan-brothers -must help each other—a Wolf a Wolf, and -a Panther a Panther. The Telfairs were a great -house in France in their day, and this girl has great -lands there. It is my duty to see that she comes -to her own.”</p> - -<p>“But—but you do not seek her. You turn away -and leave her.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t I know it?” Jack’s tones were desperate. -“When I think—But I can’t help it. There -are five thousand white women and children along -this frontier whose lives might pay the forfeit if -Fort Wayne should fall. And without the ammunition -in this wagon—Oh! I’ve been over the problem -again and again and there’s only one answer. -I’ve got to get this wagon to Fort Wayne first and -look for the girl afterwards. As soon as I have -done that I will go back to hunt for her. Meanwhile -I’ve sent word to Colonel Johnson and I’ve -commissioned Tom Rogers to help him.”</p> - -<p>Feeling, strong and intense, spoke in the boy’s -tones. Alagwa could not mistake it. A sudden intense -desire for his friendship possessed her. She -wanted—oh! how she wanted to be cared for by one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span> -of her blood. “And—and what of me?” she faltered.</p> - -<p>“You?” The sudden turn in the talk took Jack -by surprise. “You? Why? I reckon we’ll learn -something about your friends at Fort Wayne -and——”</p> - -<p>“No! No! I have no friends.” The girl’s -tones were full of tears.</p> - -<p>Jack put out his hand quickly. “Yes, you have, -you poor little devil,” he declared. “You’ve got -one friend, anyhow. I’ll see that you’re provided -for, whatever comes!”</p> - -<p>Alagwa shook off his hand. “I will not stay -alone in the white man’s camp,” she protested. -“They are all liars and robbers and murderers. I -hate them, hate them, hate them.”</p> - -<p>“Poor little chap!” Jack reached out his arms -and drew the girl toward him. For a moment she -hung back, then her head dropped upon his breast -and she began to sob softly.</p> - -<p>Jack let her cry on. Always he had despised -boys who cried, and Alagwa was bigger than any -boy he had ever seen with tears in his eyes. Yet, -somehow, he felt only pity for her.</p> - -<p>“Poor little chap,” he murmured again. “You’ve -had an awful day of it, haven’t you? You ought -to be asleep this very moment instead of sitting up -here talking to a chump like me. Come! let me help<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span> -you into the wagon.” He rose, drawing the girl -to her feet beside him. “Come,” he repeated.</p> - -<p>But Alagwa held back. “You—you will not -leave me at Fort Wayne?” she begged. “You -will take me with you. I—I can help you find the -girl.”</p> - -<p>Jack started. “By Jove! So you can!” he exclaimed. -“All right. We’ll leave it so. If we -don’t find your friends you shall stay with me. -Now you must go to bed and to sleep.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IX</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap2">ALAGWA went to rest willingly enough, but -for a long time she did not sleep. She was -thinking of what Jack had said about the -ammunition that he was taking to Fort Wayne and -of its importance to the garrison there. If she -could destroy it or give it over to the Indians she -would have done much to carry out her pledge to -Tecumseh. Carefully, she felt the boxes on which she -lay, only to find their tops nailed hard and fast, -far beyond the power of her slender fingers to -loosen.</p> - -<p>Could she get word to the runner? She was sure -he was near. Perhaps there were others with him. -Perhaps they could capture or destroy the wagon. -It would cost Jack his life; she knew that and was -sorry for it, but the fact did not make her pause. -Against his life stood the lives of dozens of her -people, who would be slain by this ammunition. -No! The white men had dug up the tomahawk; and -Jack and they must take the consequences.</p> - -<p>But how could she get word to the runner? The -camp was guarded. Dimly, she could descry Jack’s -form against the limestone boulder on which she -and he had sat and talked. Instinctively she knew -that he would not sleep, and she knew, too, that the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span> -runner was not likely to appear unless she summoned -him. And she saw no way to summon him -without betraying herself and wrecking her mission -without gain. Vainly her tired brain fluttered. -At last, wearied out, she lay quiescent, determined -to watch and wait. Perhaps a chance might come.</p> - -<p>For hours she forced herself to lie awake. But she -had not counted on the weakness due to her loss of -blood and on the insistent demand of her nature for -sleep to replenish the drain. Fight against it as she -might, sleep crept upon her, insistent, not to be -denied. Heavier and heavier grew her eyelids, and -though again and again she forced them back, in -time nature would no longer be denied.</p> - -<p>When she waked darkness was about her. For -an instant she thought she was back in the Indian -lodge at Wapakoneta. Then the patch of moonlit -sky that showed at the foot of the wagon caught -her eyes and told her the truth.</p> - -<p>With an effort she sat up. The hours of sleep had -strengthened her immensely. Young, pure-blooded, -healthy, her system had already made up much of -the blood she had lost. New life was coursing -through her veins. Except for the soreness and stiffness -in her leg she felt almost herself again.</p> - -<p>From where she lay she could see moonbeams on -the trees south of the river. If she had been familiar -with white man’s time she would have said that it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span> -was about four o’clock. Cautiously she sat up and -looked out over the tail of the wagon.</p> - -<p>The camp was shrouded in darkness, but after a -time she made out a blanketed form stretched beneath -the great slanting tree. This was Williams, -she knew. In the middle of the ground, close to -where the campfire had burned, lay another form, -almost invisible against the dark soil. To the -north, toward the road, across the rock that had so -lately served her both for chair and table, sprawled -a third form, whose heavy breathing came distinctly -to her ears. He was a mere blur in the darkness, -but Alagwa knew that Jack had intended to take -both the first and the last watches and to give the -midwatch to Cato. She knew, therefore, that the -sentinel must be Cato. And she knew that he was -asleep.</p> - -<p>Sharply she drew her breath. Now was her -chance to give the call of the whip-poor-will. Almost -she had framed her lips to sound it.</p> - -<p>Then suddenly and silently a head rose at the tail -of the wagon and two fierce eyes bored questioningly -into hers. Even in the darkness she could make out -the horribly painted features. No civilized woman -would have met such a vision without screaming, -but Alagwa had been well trained. A single heart-rending -start she gave, then faced the warrior.</p> - -<p>The latter did not delay. He said no word, but -he raised his tomahawk and swept it around the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span> -camp toward the sleeping men. A voiceless question -glittered in his eyes.</p> - -<p>For a single moment Alagwa’s heart stopped -short; then it raced furiously, beating with great -throbs that shook her slender frame and that to -her strained consciousness seemed to echo drum-like -through the sleeping camp. Now was the chance -for which she had longed. By a single blow she -might avenge Wilwiloway, might win the wagon-load -of ammunition for her people, and might weaken -the ruthless enemy whom she so hated. Now! Now! -Now! Her brain thrilled with the summons.</p> - -<p>Abruptly the glow faded. She could not, could -not, give the word to kill. Not for all the ammunition -in the land, not for the lives of all the Shawnee -braves that lived, not for victory that would endure -forever, could she give the word that would bring -about the deaths of sleeping men. Desperately she -shook her head and raised her hand, imperatively -pointing to the forest.</p> - -<p>The runner hesitated. Again, with mute insistence, -he renewed his deadly question, and again -Alagwa said him nay. At last, with a shrug of his -naked shoulders, he dropped his arm. An instant -more and the night had swallowed him up.</p> - -<p>Alagwa dropped back gasping. Now that the -chance was gone she longed for its return. A blaze -of hate shook her—hate for the white men and for -herself. She was a traitor, a coward, a weakling,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span> -she told herself fiercely. She had broken faith with -Tecumseh. She had failed in her duty to her people. -The white blood she had inherited had betrayed -her. Oh! If she could drain it from her -veins and be red, all red. Despairingly she covered -her face with her hands and her shoulders shook. -An hour slipped by and still dry sobs racked her -slender body.</p> - -<p>Suddenly, a sound from near the great leaning -tree reached her ears and she straightened up, staring -into the faint light of the coming dawn. The -sleeper beneath it had shifted his position. As -she watched he sat up, cocking his head, evidently -listening to the heavy breathing of the negro. Then -he began to crawl noiselessly toward the wagon.</p> - -<p>Alagwa drew her breath sharply. She knew -the man was Williams and she knew why he was -coming. She knew that the heavy rifle that Jack -had taken from him was in the wagon and that he -was trying to regain it. When he did regain it, -what would he do? Would he not turn upon the -young chief, who was taking him to be punished for -the murder of Wilwiloway, and who had saved and -befriended her. She could not doubt it.</p> - -<p>She must stop him. But how? Fiercely but -silently she laughed to herself. With his own -rifle she would check him. It was in the wagon, -close beside her! Powder-horn and bullet-pouch -hung beside it. Jack had left them in her care<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span> -without a thought. Noiselessly she felt for the rifle -and noiselessly she drew it toward her. It was -loaded, she knew. From the powder-horn that -hung beside it she primed it and thrust it across the -tail of the wagon toward the creeping man.</p> - -<p>As the sights fell in line upon him hate blazed up -within her. He was at her mercy now—he, the -murderer of Wilwiloway. The gods had given him -into her hand. To slay him was her right and her -duty. Should she do it? Her finger curled about -the trigger. A little stronger pressure and Wilwiloway -would be avenged.</p> - -<p>Her Indian gods, the gods of vengeance, the gods -that called for the payment of the blood debt, -thundered in her ears. “Kill! Kill!” they clamored. -“Kill! Faithless daughter of the Shawnees! -Kill!” Of the Christian God she knew nothing; missionaries -had not yet brought him to Wapakoneta, -though the time when they would do so was close -at hand. Steadily her finger tightened about the -trigger.</p> - -<p>Then it relaxed. What would Jack say—Jack -with the broad forehead and the clear blue eyes? -Would he approve? She knew that he would not. -Instinctively she knew it. Too well her imagination -mirrored forth the condemnation in his eyes. She -did not understand the white man’s ideas of law -and justice. She had suffered too bitterly from -their working; but she knew—knew—that Jack<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span> -understood them and that he would not countenance -her taking vengeance into her own hands.</p> - -<p>Slowly her finger relaxed its pressure. She -leaned forward and gently clicked her tongue -against the roof of her mouth.</p> - -<p>The crouching man heard it and stopped short. -She clicked again, and he looked up and saw the -girl’s face, white in the dawn, staring at him over -the round black eye of the rifle. With a muffled cry -he sprang to his feet, throwing out his hands as if -to ward off the imminent death.</p> - -<p>The shot did not come, and he began to shrink -back. Step by step he moved and silently the rifle -followed him. Once he paused and held out his -hands as if offering a bargain. But the rifle held -inexorably and after a time he resumed his halting -retreat.</p> - -<p>At last he reached his blankets. Above them he -paused and shook his fist at her furiously.</p> - -<p>Dark as it still was, Alagwa could not mistake -his gestures nor doubt their meaning. He was -swearing vengeance against her. Once more her -finger curled about the trigger. She remembered -the Shawnee proverb about the man who let a rattlesnake -live. Was she letting a rattlesnake live?</p> - -<p>As she hesitated, Cato grunted, groaned, and -moved, and the man dropped swiftly down. Alagwa -sighed; her chance was gone, perhaps forever.</p> - -<p>Cato sat up, clutching at the rifle that had slipped<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span> -from his grasp. Stiffly he rose to his feet. For a -moment he hesitated, then he walked over to Jack -and shook him gently.</p> - -<p>“It’s time to git up, Mars’ Jack,” he said.</p> - -<p>Jack sat up. “Why! Cato! You scoundrel!” he -exclaimed. “It’s morning. You’ve let me sleep -all night.”</p> - -<p>Cato scratched his head hesitatingly. Then an expression -of conscious virtue dawned upon his face. -“Yessah! Mars’ Jack,” he said. “You was -sleepin’ so nice I just couldn’t bear to wake you.”</p> - -<p>“Humph! Well! Everything seems to be all -right. It’s turned out well, Cato, but you mustn’t -do it again. You haven’t heard any suspicious -noises or anything, have you?”</p> - -<p>The negro shook his head. “No, sah,” he declared. -“Everything’s been just as peaceful as if -we was back on the Tallapoosa. You c’n trust -Cato to keep watch; dat you can, sah.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER X</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE forest was breaking. The arcades of -spell-bound woods that for three days had -hemmed the road were losing their continuity, -giving place to glades choked with underbrush -and dappled with sunbeams. The chill of the -swamp land was vanishing and the landscape was -momently sweetening with the fragrance of annis -grass and of fern. Now and again golden-green -branches showed against a blue, cloud-flecked sky.</p> - -<p>Jack and Alagwa, the latter mounted on Cato’s -horse, were riding behind the wagon, chatting together -and looking forward, not altogether eagerly, -to the change in surroundings which they knew must -be at hand.</p> - -<p>The strain of the first night had for the moment -exhausted the girl’s capacity to hate. She had -touched a high point and had sunk back. When she -saw that Jack and Cato were awake, reaction had -overcome her and she had sunk back on her couch in -the wagon, mind and heart both blank. When, -later, she had forced herself to crawl from the wagon -to join the others in a hasty breakfast, she had done -so listlessly and silently. Still later, though she -had gathered strength and vigor with the mounting -day, she had found herself incapable of thinking of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span> -either the past or the future. Like any other wild -creature that had been driven beyond its strength, -she could do nothing but exist. When the thought -of the future and of her mission rose in her mind -she deliberately forced it back. She had refused -to countenance an attack upon the wagon when it -was at her mercy; never again would she connive -at its destruction. She had taken early occasion -to warn Cato that his dereliction from duty had not -passed unobserved, and she had won his eternal -gratitude, to say nothing of his vows never to sleep -on watch again, by promising not to tell Jack. -Apart from this, then, was nothing for her to do -until she reached Fort Wayne. Until then she could -live only for the moment.</p> - -<p>For the moment also she had laid aside her distrust -of Jack. His heart might be bad, but his -words were pleasant, and she would enjoy them while -she could.</p> - -<p>Swiftly the hours sped by. Her wound was healing -fast and gave her little trouble. After the first -day she found herself able to ride a little, and on the -last day she remained almost continuously in the -saddle, Jack by her side, talking the hours away.</p> - -<p>Infinite was her ignorance of the life which Jack -and his people led far away to the south and great -was her curiosity concerning it. She told herself -that it was merely the strangeness of the life -that roused her interest. For her it could have no<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span> -personal interest. That she could ever dwell with -the enemies of her people was unthinkable. But—well, -it was pleasant to hear of so many things -that had been far beyond her ken. Jack, on the -other hand, found unexpected delight in enlightening -the virgin field of her mind. Again and again -he laughed at her ignorance, but his laughter was -not of the kind that hurts. Long before the third -day had begun, Jack had decided that this Indian-bred -boy was the most interesting he had ever -known, and Alagwa had unconsciously decided that -Jack was very different from the others of his race. -“If all white men were like him,” she thought, -“there would be no enmity between his people and -mine.” The bond of sympathy between the two was -growing very strong.</p> - -<p>“We’ll be at Fort Wayne soon, Bob, I guess,” -Jack was saying, as they neared the edge of the -forest. “I reckon it’s mean for me to wish it, but -I do hope we won’t find your friends there. I didn’t -know how much I needed a jolly little chum.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa caught her breath. Almost she had forgotten -Fort Wayne. Grimly her forgotten mission -rose before her. When she reached the fort—Hastily -she shook her head. “The white chief will -find no friends of mine,” she declared, soberly. “I -have no friends.”</p> - -<p>“Oh! You must have friends somewhere, you know, -and I’ve got to try to find them. I must do my best<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span> -to let them know you’re alive. You may have a -father and mother, still grieving for you. But if -I can’t find them——”</p> - -<p>“And if you can not find them?” The girl was -talking desperately, saying anything to prevent -herself from thinking of what awaited her.</p> - -<p>“Then I reckon I’ll have to take you back to -Alabama with me when I go—though the Lord -knows when that’ll be. You’ll love Alabama, though -it’s mighty different from this Ohio country. Alabama -is Shawnee—no, it’s Creek—for ‘here-we-rest!’ -The Creeks called it that because it is so -pleasant. You’ll come with me, won’t you, Bob?”</p> - -<p>“I?” Alagwa drew herself up. For the moment -she was once more the Shawnee maiden. “Am I -a dog to live among those who hate me?”</p> - -<p>“Hate you!” Jack stared. “Good Lord! What -are you talking about? Why! Dad would go crazy -over you. He’s the best old dad that ever lived. -Cato’s already deserted me for you. He’s your -sworn slave. He thinks you’re the spirit and image -of the Telfair family. By the way, he told me yesterday -that you sure did have the Telfair nose. -You may not think that’s a compliment, but Cato -meant it for one. As for the neighbors——”</p> - -<p>Jack stopped short. He had just remembered -that for several days he had failed to grieve over -Sally Habersham and that he had quite forgotten<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span> -that his life was blighted. An expression of gloom -came over his features.</p> - -<p>Alagwa noticed it, but she said nothing. She had -been taught not to force her chatter on a warrior, -and her experience with white men had been too brief -to change the ingrained custom of years. Besides, -she was startled by Cato’s remark. Woman-like, -she had already discovered the strong family likeness -she bore to Jack; and it had pleased rather -than troubled her. But Cato’s perception of it -made her anxious. If he noticed it, others might do -so and might grow suspicious; her identity might -be detected, and if it was, her mission would fail.</p> - -<p>Before Jack could notice her abstraction the -break in the forest came. The trees stopped short, -leaning westward as if dragged toward the sunset -by some mighty impulse, only to be held back by one -yet mightier. To north and to south the line of the -forest ran interminably away, till it blended with -the long grasses that swelled to meet it.</p> - -<p>In front stretched the prairie, mile after mile of -billowing green, flower-studded, cobweb-sheeted, -ablaze with the painted wings of butterflies. Over -it the breeze blew softly, laden with whispers, heavy -with the scent of sun-dried grass.</p> - -<p>With a gasp both Jack and Alagwa reined in. -Then with wild whoops of delight they shook their -reins and drove their heels into their horses’ sides<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span> -and darted forward, out from behind the wagon, -over the fresh springy turf.</p> - -<p>As they passed, Williams, seated by Cato on the -box, leaned forward and hailed them. “We’re -near Fort Wayne,” he called. “An’ there’s white -men there—none of your d—d Indian lovers. -We’ll see what they’ve got to say about your high-handed -ways. And”—venomously—“we’ll see -what they’ve got to say about that half-breed boy, -too.”</p> - -<p>Jack did not answer. He scarcely heard. All -his thoughts were on the mighty plain that stretched -before him. To him, as to Alagwa, the prairie was a -revelation. All her life the girl had lived amid -forests; all her life her view had been circumscribed -by the boles of massive trees. Never had she -dreamed of the vast sweep of the grassy plains. -Jack’s experience was wider, but even he had never -seen the prairies. Like two children they shouted -from very rapture. Along the flat they raced, intoxicated -with the whistle of the wind, the smell of -the grass, and the thunderous drumming of their -horses’ hoofs. Mile after mile they galloped, fronting -the sunset, fleeing before their own enormously -lengthening shadows. When at last they dragged -their steeds to a walk, Jack had quite forgotten his -gloomy pose and was talking and laughing as excitedly -as if he were still the schoolboy he had been -so short a time before.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span>Then suddenly he reined in and rose in his stirrups. -The road, curving to the north around a -great grassy swell, had come out upon a level at the -far edge of which rose a great quadrilateral, with -frowning blockhouses at its alternate corners. -Under its protecting walls smaller buildings showed -where the pioneers of a dauntless race were laying -deep the foundations of a mighty state.</p> - -<p>Smilingly he turned to Alagwa. “There’s our -destination! We’ll stay there tonight and tomorrow -I’ll start back. You’ll be too tired to go, of -course.”</p> - -<p>Startled, the girl looked up. But her face cleared -as she saw that Jack was smiling and guessed that -he was mocking her.</p> - -<p>Rapidly the quadrilateral swelled out of the plain. -A great gate, midway of its southern side, stood invitingly -open and toward this the travellers directed -their way. A sentry stared at them curiously as -they passed in but did not challenge or stop them.</p> - -<p>Just inside the gate Jack reined in, looking for a -moment at the unfamiliar scene. On the parade -ground that occupied the square interior of the fort -a company of forty soldiers was drilling under command -of a heavy man, rotund and stout. At the -left, in the shade of the walls, stood a group of men -and boys, some of them white but most of them -Indian.</p> - -<p>Some one called out and the members of the group<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span> -turned from watching the drill and stared at the -newcomers. The captain of the company, too, was -plainly curious, for he turned his men over to a sub-officer -and crossed to join the rest. He bore himself -with an air of authority that bespoke him the commander -of the fort.</p> - -<p>Jack rode up to him and reined in, sweeping off -his hat with a boyish flourish. “Good evening, -sir!” he cried. “Have I the honor of addressing -Captain Rhea?”</p> - -<p>The officer shook his head. His face was flushed -and the veins on his forehead were swollen. Obviously -he had been drinking heavily. “Captain -Rhea is ill,” he grunted. “I’m Lieutenant Hibbs, -in command. Who are you?”</p> - -<p>Jack hesitated. He had not expected to find a -drunken man in charge of so important a post as -Fort Wayne. Heavy drinking was not rare in those -days; rum was on every man’s table and “Brown -Betty” was drunk almost as freely by both sexes -and all ages as coffee is today. The code of the -day, however, condemned men in responsible positions -for drinking more than they could carry -decently.</p> - -<p>As Jack hesitated the officer grew angry. His -flushed face grew redder. “Speak up!” he growled. -“Who are you and what do you want?”</p> - -<p>Jack could hesitate no longer. Lightly he leaped -from his saddle, looping the bridle over his arm and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span> -came forward. “I’m glad to meet you, Mr. Hibbs,” -he said. “I am Mr. Telfair, of Alabama, up here -on personal business. I turned aside at Girty’s -Town to escort a wagon-load of ammunition that -General Hull had sent you——”</p> - -<p>“Ammunition!” The officer’s manner changed. -He drew his breath with a long sobbing gasp. -“Ammunition. We need it bad enough. Thank -God you’ve come. General Hull sent you with it?”</p> - -<p>“Not exactly. He sent it by two wagoners, but -one of them”—Jack dropped his voice—“murdered -an Indian and I had to arrest him and take -charge of the wagon. I——”</p> - -<p>“Murdered an Indian! Arrest him! Good -God!” Mr. Hibbs was staring at the wagon, -which was just appearing through the gates. -“Who’s that?” he demanded. “Damnation! It’s -Williams! You don’t mean you’ve arrested Williams!” -He threw up his hand. “Hey! Williams!” -he shouted. “Come here!”</p> - -<p>Williams jumped from the box and came forward.</p> - -<p>Jack did not wait. “I had to arrest him,” he -declared. “I’ll be only too glad to explain all the -circumstances if I can see you privately.” He cast -a glance around the listening throng. “It seems -hardly wise to speak too freely here——” He -stopped, for Mr. Hibbs had brushed by him and had -gone forward to meet the wagoner.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span>“Hello! Williams!” he hiccoughed. “You -back? Where’s Wolf?”</p> - -<p>The company that had been drilling had been -dismissed and the men came running up. Plainly -they were anxious to learn what news the newcomers -might have brought. Most of them waved their -hands to Williams as they drew near, though they -did not venture to break in on his talk with their -officer.</p> - -<p>Williams paid little attention to them. He was -choking with anger. “Wolf’s dead,” he rasped. -“Killed by a dog of a Shawnee. I guess you’d -better ask that young squirt about it.” He jerked -his head toward Jack. “He’s running this expedition.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Hibbs’s brow darkened. He glanced at Jack -doubtfully. “Did General Hull put him in charge -of the ammunition?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Ammunition? What ammunition?” Williams -snarled scornfully.</p> - -<p>“The ammunition you brought, of course.”</p> - -<p>“I ain’t brought no ammunition. Those durned -Injun agents are always fussing about honest -traders, and I got by Colonel Johnson’s deputy at -Piqua by saying that I had ammunition. But I -ain’t got a bit. I ain’t got nothing but whiskey and -trade goods. This young know-it-all, he hears what -I says to the agent, and he takes it on himself to -escort the ammunition and I lets him do it.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span>A roar of laughter went up from the crowd. -Aristocrats were not popular on the frontier and -Jack was plainly an aristocrat. Besides, Williams -was a friend and the crowd was very willing to follow -his lead.</p> - -<p>Jack flushed hotly as he realized how completely -he had been humbugged. He tried to speak, but his -voice was drowned by jeers.</p> - -<p>Mr. Hibbs, however, neither laughed nor jeered. -The failure to get ammunition seemed to strike him -hard. Furiously he swung round on Jack.</p> - -<p>But before he could speak Williams thrust in. -“I got those things you wanted, lieutenant,” he -said. “But he’s taken charge of ’em.” He jerked -his thumb toward Jack. “Maybe he’ll give ’em -to you if you go down on your knees and ask for -’em pretty.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Hibbs found his voice. “What the devil does -this mean?” he demanded. “You, sir, I mean.” -He glared at Jack. “I’m talking to you. What -have you got to do with this thing, anyway?”</p> - -<p>Jack refused to be stampeded. He was horribly -abashed by the fiasco of the ammunition, and he -saw that no explanation that he could make was -likely to be well received. “I’d rather wait and go -into things privately, lieutenant,” he demurred.</p> - -<p>“Privately! H—l! You go ahead and be d— -quick about it!”</p> - -<p>Before Jack could speak a tall, thin man, who<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span> -had been watching the scene with growing disgust, -stepped forward hurriedly. “I think the young -man is right, Mr. Hibbs,” he said. “It seems to me -that it would be much better to talk in private.” -He turned to Jack. “I am Major Stickney, the -Indian agent here, Mr. Telfair,” he said.</p> - -<p>Mr. Hibbs gave him no time to say more. -Furiously he turned upon him. “It seems best to -you, does it,” he yelled. “Yes, I reckon it is just the -sort of thing that would seem best to a greenhorn -like you. But you might as well understand here -and now, that I’m in command here and that you -nor anybody else can tell me what to do.” He -turned to Jack. “Go on,” he roared.</p> - -<p>Further objection was evidently useless. Jack -spoke out. “I charge this man,” he said, pointing -to Williams, “with the deliberate and uncalled-for -murder of a friendly Shawnee chief, at the moment -that he was making the peace sign. This man shot -him down without any provocation and without any -warning. After he had shot him the Indian sprang -at him and at his companion, a man named Wolf, -tore Wolf’s gun from him, and brained him with it. -Then he sprang at Williams, who struck him down -with his hatchet and then scalped him.”</p> - -<p>“Good! Good! Bully for you, Williams.” A -roar of applause rose from the soldiers. Mr. Hibbs -did not check it.</p> - -<p>Jack hurried on. “You understand, sir,” he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span> -said, “what terrible consequences this might have -led to at this particular time. Tecumseh has already -led several hundred Shawnees north to join -the British, and the murder of a friendly chief, if it -had become known in its true aspect, might have -roused the remainder of the tribe and turned ten -thousand warriors against the white settlements. I -did the only thing I could to prevent it. I placed -this man under arrest and took him to Girty’s -Town, where I hoped to turn him over to Colonel -Johnson. Colonel Johnson was not there, however, -and so I gave out that the Indian had been killed -by Wolf in a personal quarrel. I left a note for -Colonel Johnson explaining the true circumstances -of the case. Then, knowing your urgent need for -ammunition and thinking this wagon was loaded with -it, I came on here as quickly as I could, bringing this -man as a prisoner to be dealt with as you might -think fit.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Hibbs was rocking on his feet. Scarcely did -he wait for Jack to finish. “Shot an Injun, did -he?” he burst out. “Well, it’s a d— good thing. -I wish he’d shot a dozen of the scurvy brutes. And -you’re complaining of him, are you? How about -yourself? What were you doing while the fight was -going on?” He swung round on Williams. “What -was he doing, Williams?” he asked.</p> - -<p>The wagoner laughed scornfully. “He warn’t -doing nothing,” he sneered. “He sat on his horse<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span> -and watched the Injun kill Wolf without raisin’ a -hand to stop him. But he was mighty forward in -stopping me when I started to wipe out that half-breed -boy yonder.”</p> - -<p>A snarl rose from the crowding men. But the -reference to Alagwa served momentarily to divert -their attention.</p> - -<p>“That boy was with the Injun,” went on Williams; -“and he come at Wolf with a knife. Wolf -shot him through the leg and he fell, and after I’d -done for the Injun I started after the cub. But this -here sprig run me down with his horse an’ took my -gun away before I could get up.”</p> - -<p>Again the crowd snarled. “Duck him! Flog -him! Hang him!” it cried. The calls were low and -tentative, but they were gaining volume.</p> - -<p>Mr. Hibbs made no effort to check them or to -keep his men in hand. Rather he urged them on. -“Well! sir!” he demanded, truculently. “What -have you got to say?”</p> - -<p>Jack’s lips whitened. He was little more than a -lad, and the incredible attitude of this officer of the -United States army, from whom he had the right to -expect support, confounded him. He had yet to -learn, as the country had yet to learn, that the -United States army was then officered by many men -who had gotten their positions by political influence -and were totally unfitted for their work—men who<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span> -were to bring disgrace and dishonor on the American -flag.</p> - -<p>Doggedly, Jack tried to protest. “The boy is -white, lieutenant,” he interrupted. “You’ve only -to look at him to see that. For the rest, this man -is perverting the facts. He committed a wanton -murder, and if it makes the Indians rise——”</p> - -<p>“Let ’em rise and be d—d! Who cares whether -they rise or not?” Mr. Hibbs hesitated a moment -and then went on. “We’ve just got news from -General Hull. He’s crossed into Canada and scattered -the redcoats and the red devils. We’ll have -all Canada in a month. And if any of the Injuns -anywhere try to make trouble we’ll shoot ’em. And -if any white-livered curs from the east try to make -trouble we’ll shoot them, too. Wolf was a d— sight -better man than you’ll ever be.”</p> - -<p>Jack threw his head back and his jaw stiffened. -The insults that had been heaped upon him made his -blood boil. But he remembered that Mr. Hibbs was -an officer in the army of his country and, as such, -entitled to respect.</p> - -<p>“Sir!” he said, almost gently. “I will not enter -into comparisons or arguments. I have done what -I thought was my duty. I am an American citizen -and it is surely my duty, as it is yours, sir, to try -to prevent friends from turning into foes——”</p> - -<p>“My duty!” Mr. Hibbs broke in with a roar. -“You’ll teach me my duty, will you? By God!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span> -We’ll see.” He swung round. “Officer of the -guard!” he trumpeted.</p> - -<p>“Sir!” An officer stepped forward.</p> - -<p>“Call two men and take this young cub to the -calaboose and flog him well. We’ll teach him to -meddle in matters that don’t concern him.”</p> - -<p>Flogging was common in those days. Privates in -the army were flogged for all sorts of misdeeds.</p> - -<p>The crowd surged forward. Beyond question its -sympathies were with Hibbs and against Jack. The -note of savagery in its snarl would have frightened -most men.</p> - -<p>It did not frighten Jack. His blue eyes gleamed -with an anger that did not blaze—a frosty anger -that froze those on whom it fell.</p> - -<p>“Just a moment,” he cried. “The first man that -lays hand on me dies.”</p> - -<p>The crowd hesitated, clutching at pistols and -knives. The moment was freighted with death.</p> - -<p>Then, abruptly, some one pushed a rifle—Williams’s -rifle—into Jack’s hands and he heard -Alagwa’s voice in his ear. “White chief kill!” she -gritted. “Sing death song. I die with him.”</p> - -<p>On the other side Cato pressed forward. “I’se -here, Mars’ Jack,” he quavered. “Cato’s here.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">FOR a moment the crowd hung in the balance. -Then Jack laughed. The ridiculous side of -the quarrel had struck him. He turned to -Alagwa. “Thank you, Bob, old chap,” he said, -gratefully. “And you, too, Cato. I won’t forget. -But I reckon we won’t have to kill anybody.”</p> - -<p>Still holding the rifle, he turned back to the -throng. “Here’s your rifle, Williams,” he said, -tossing the gun indifferently over. “Come, old -man,” he called to Alagwa. “Come, Cato!” Without -a backward glance he strode away.</p> - -<p>Silence almost complete followed his departure. -Mr. Hibbs made no move to renew his order; he -stood still and watched the party walk away. -Plainly he was beginning to realize that he had gone -too far.</p> - -<p>Stickney, however, with an impatient exclamation, -separated himself from the others and hurried -after Jack. “You did exactly right, Mr. Telfair,” -he said, as he came up, “and I’m sorry you should -have been so outrageously treated. Captain Rhea -isn’t a bad sort, but he is very ill and Mr. Hibbs -is in his place and you see what sort of a man he is. -The fiasco about the ammunition made it worse. We -are practically out of it.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span>Jack nodded and laughed a little shamefacedly. -“I reckon it serves me right,” he said. “I got the -idea that I was serving the country and I reckon I -made a fool of myself. The worst of it is, I left some -very important matters of my own. However, -there’s no use crying over spilled milk. Since General -Hull has been so successful——”</p> - -<p>“But has he?” Mr. Stickney broke in. “I hope -he has. He really has crossed into Canada. We -know that much. But we don’t know any more. -Hibbs invented the rest in order to counteract the -effect of his slip in saying that we are short of -ammunition. You see, there is some little excuse -for his behavior, outrageous as it was.”</p> - -<p>Jack nodded. “I see!” he acceded. “Well! It -really doesn’t matter. I intended to start back to -Piqua tomorrow morning, anyway.”</p> - -<p>“Oh! We can’t let you go that quickly. I want -to hear more about that murder. I must send a -report about it to Washington. You’ll give me -the details?”</p> - -<p>“With pleasure.”</p> - -<p>Major Stickney hesitated and glanced round. -“The factory building is outside the fort,” he said, -“and I’d be delighted to have you stay there with -me, if it wasn’t crowded to the doors. My assistant, -Captain Wells, with his wife and their children completely -fill it. But there’s a sort of hotel here kept -by a French trader, one Peter Bondie, and he can<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span> -put you up for the night. That will give us time -for a talk.”</p> - -<p>Jack nodded. “Good!” he exclaimed. “I’ll be -only too glad to stay, especially as I want to consult -you about this youngster.” He turned toward -Alagwa. “Come here, Bob,” he called. “I want -you to meet Major Stickney.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa was lagging behind the rest. Her brain -was tingling with the information that had just -come to her ears. The fort—the great bulwark of -all northwest Indiana and Ohio—was almost out of -ammunition. A small force of her Shawnees, aided -by a few redcoats, if well armed, might take it -easily. If she could only send them information! -Ah! that would be a triumph greater far than the -capture of many wagons—even of wagons actually -laden with ammunition.</p> - -<p>She would seek the runner at once. She would -not hesitate again as she had hesitated on that unforgotten -night. The men in the fort were the sort -of Americans she hated. More, they had dared to -threaten the young white chief. She had meant -what she said when she offered to fight them to the -death. Gladly she would kill them all, all!</p> - -<p>Jack threw his arm about her shoulders and drew -her to his side. “This is the boy that Wolf shot,” -he explained. “I call him Bob, because he doesn’t -know his white name, and I want him to forget he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span> -was ever an Indian. He and I have got to be great -chums already.”</p> - -<p>Stickney smiled. “So it seems,” he commented, -eyeing Alagwa with approval. “He certainly seems -to be pretty clear grit. He stood behind you just -now like a man, even if he isn’t knee high to a grasshopper.”</p> - -<p>Jack glanced at Alagwa affectionately. “He’s a -good one, all right,” he declared. “Cato swears he’s -quality and Cato’s a mighty good judge. I can -see it myself, for that matter. He must come from -good people and we’ve got to find them. And he’s -pure grit. Williams told the truth about his part -in the fight. That’s another thing I’ll tell you about -tonight. Where did you say this Peter Bondie was -to be found?” Jack looked about him inquiringly.</p> - -<p>The sun was dropping lower and lower. Its rays -traced fiery furrows across the bending grass of -the prairie and filled the air with golden lights. -Against it the crest of the fortress stood black, -golden rimmed at the top. Afar, the broad river -gleamed silver bright beneath the darkening sky.</p> - -<p>Stickney pointed ahead. “Yonder’s his store -and hotel, ahead there by the river. His wife is a -Miami Indian, but she attends to the store and you -probably won’t see her at all. His sister, Madame -Fantine Loire, a widow, manages the hotel. She’s a -born cook and she’ll give you meals that you’ll -remember after you are dead. I’m afraid she can’t<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span> -give you a room. Her guests just spread their -blanket rolls before the fire in the bar room and -sleep there. They seem to find it very comfortable.”</p> - -<p>Jack nodded. “That’ll be all right,” he answered, -absently. He was peering westward, beneath -his shading hand. “I think I see somebody -I know—Yes! By George! I do! It’s Tom Rogers. -I reckon he’s looking for me.”</p> - -<p>Rogers it was! He was approaching at a dog-trot -from the direction of the fort. When he saw -that Jack had seen him he slackened his pace.</p> - -<p>“Talk! Talk! Talk!” he began, when he came -up. “These people here sure do knock the persimmons -for talk. Back in the fort they’re buzzing -like a hive of bees. They talk so much I -couldn’t hardly find out what had happened. And -what’s the use of it? There ain’t none. Go ahead -and do things is my motto. When you get to talkin’ -there’s no tellin’ where you’ll come out. Anybody -might ha’ knowed it was plumb foolish to try to -talk to that man Hibbs. Everybody in this country -knows him. You can’t do nothing with him unless -you smash him over the head. But I reckon you -found that out. They tell me you pulled a pistol on -him. That’s the right thing to do. Powder talks -and——”</p> - -<p>Jack broke in. He had learned by experience that -to break in was the only way to get to speak at all -when Rogers held the floor. “Did you bring me<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span> -a letter from Colonel Johnson?” he asked. “Has -he found the girl?”</p> - -<p>“Not yet. She’s plumb vanished. But I brung -you a letter from the Colonel.” The old man felt in -his hunting shirt and drew out a packet, which he -handed to Jack. “Colonel Johnson says to me, says -he——”</p> - -<p>Again Jack interrupted. “We’re going to Peter -Bondie’s to spend the night,” he said. “Come along -with us.”</p> - -<p>The old hunter’s face lit up. “Say!” he exclaimed. -“You ain’t never been here before, have -you? Well, you got a treat comin’! Just wait till -you see Madame Fantine and eat some of her cooking. -An’ she’s a mighty fine woman besides. Jest -tell her I’ll be along later. First I reckon I’d better -go back to the fort. I’ve got some friends there, -and maybe I can smooth things down for you some. -There ain’t no use in makin’ enemies. The boys -are pretty sore at you just now. But I c’n smooth -’em down all right if I can only get a chance to put -a word in edgeways. The trouble is that people -talk so blame much——”</p> - -<p>“All right. Come to the inn when you get ready. -You’ll find us there.”</p> - -<p>Jack turned back to Stickney. As he did so he -tore open his letter and glanced over its contents. -It was from Colonel Johnson, acknowledging the -receipt of his letter, commending his action in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span> -matter of Wilwiloway’s murder, and promising to -do all he could to find the girl of whom Jack was -in search. “I know her well,” ended the colonel, -“and I shall be glad to look for her. She was here -recently, but she has disappeared and I rather think -she may have gone north with Tecumseh. Your -best chance of finding her would probably be to go -down the Maumee and join General Hull at Detroit. -As for Captain Brito Telfair, he has disappeared -and has probably gone back to Canada.”</p> - -<p>Jack handed the letter to Major Stickney. -“This touches on the main object of my visit to -Ohio, Major,” he said, when the latter had read it. -“The girl of whom Colonel Johnson speaks is the -daughter of my kinsman, Delaroche Telfair, who -came to Ohio from France in 1790 and settled at -Gallipolis. Later, he seems to have lived with the -Shawnees, probably as a trader, and when he died -he left his daughter in Tecumseh’s care.” Jack -went on, explaining the circumstances that made it -necessary for him to find the girl without delay. -“If you can help me any, Major,” he finished, “I’ll -be grateful.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll be delighted. But I’m afraid I can’t do -much. I’m a greenhorn up here, you know. But -I’ll ask Captain Wells, my assistant. He’s been -in these parts all his life. He was captured by the -Miamis forty years ago and grew up with them and -married a Miami woman. He’ll know if any one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span> -does—No! By George!”—Major Stickney was -growing excited—“I forgot. Peter Bondie will -know more than Wells. He and his sister were in -the party of Frenchmen that settled Gallipolis in -1790. They were recruited in Paris and very likely -they came over in the ship with your relation. Of -course neither of them is likely to know anything -about the girl, but it’s just possible that they may. -Anyway, you’ll want to talk to them. Here’s their -place.”</p> - -<p>Major Stickney pointed to a log building, larger -than most of its neighbors, that stood not far from -the bank of the river. From the crowd of Indians -and the piles of miscellaneous goods at one of its -entrances it seemed to be as much store as dwelling.</p> - -<p>Jack stepped forward eagerly. “Talk to -them?” he echoed. “I should think I would! This -is great luck.” Jack knew that many of the French -settlers of Gallipolis had quit their first homes on -the banks of the Ohio river and had scattered -through the northwest, but he had not expected to -find two of them at Fort Wayne. Perhaps his -coming there would prove to be less of a blunder -than he had thought a few moments before. So -eager was he to see them that for the moment he -forgot Alagwa.</p> - -<p>The girl was glad to be forgotten. Her heart was -throbbing painfully. For a moment the necessity of -sending word to Tecumseh about the ammunition<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span> -had been thrust into the background. To most persons -the thought of finding of people who had known -their father would have caused little emotion. To -Alagwa, however, it came as a shock, the more so -from its unexpectedness. Her memories of her -father were very few, but she had secretly cherished -them, grieving over their incompleteness. Fear of -betraying her identity had prevented her from -questioning Jack too closely about him; and, indeed, -Jack was almost as ignorant as she concerning the -things she wished to know. But here were a man -and a woman, who had crossed the ocean with him -when he was young and vigorous. Surely they -knew him well! Perhaps they had known her mother, -whom she remembered not at all. Her heart stood -still at the thought. Dully she heard Cato’s voice -expounding the family relationships to Rogers, who -seemed to be for the moment dumb. “Yes, sah!” -he was saying. “Dat’s what I’m tellin’ you. Dere -ain’t nobody better’n de Telfairs in all Alabama. -Dey sure is—Lord A’mighty! Who dat?”</p> - -<p>Alagwa looked up and saw a little round Frenchman, -almost as swarthy as an Indian, running down -the path toward them, literally smiling all over -himself. Behind him waddled an enormously fat -woman, who shook like a bowlful of jelly.</p> - -<p>A moment more and the man had come up. “Ah! -Is it my good friend, Major Stickney?” he burst -out. “He brings me the guests, yes!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span>Stickney nodded, smilingly. “Four of them, -Peter,” he said; “and one more to come—a very -special one. I commend him especially to your -sister. A man named—er—Rogers, I believe.” He -grinned at the woman, who was hurrying up.</p> - -<p>She grinned back at him. “Oh! La! La!” she -cried. “That silent Mr. Rogers. He will not talk. -He will do nothing but eat. Mon Dieu! What is -one to do with such a man? But les autres! These -other messieurs here. They are most welcome.”</p> - -<p>Stickney nodded. “They start for Detroit tomorrow,” -he explained, “but before they go they -want to eat some of your so-wonderful meals. -They’ve heard about them from Rogers. Ah! But -that man adores you, Madame Fantine. Besides, -they’ve got a lot to ask you.”</p> - -<p>“To ask me, monsieur?” The French woman’s -beady eyes darted inquiringly from Stickney to Jack -and back again.</p> - -<p>“Yes! You and our good friend Pierre.”</p> - -<p>“Bon! I shall answer with a gladness, but, yes, -with a gladness. It is of the most welcome that they -are. They are of the nobility. With half an eye -one can see that. It will be a pleasure the most -great to entertain them.”</p> - -<p>As she spoke the French woman’s roving eyes -rested on Alagwa’s face. Instantly they widened -with an amazement that sent the blood flooding to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span> -the tips of the girl’s shell-like ears. Then they -jumped to Jack’s face and she gasped.</p> - -<p>“Of a truth, monsieur,” she went on, after an -almost imperceptible break. “It is not worth the -while to prepare the dishes of la belle France for -the cochons who live hereabouts. They care for -naught but enough to fill their bellies! But you, -monsieur, ah! it will be the great pleasure to cook -for you. Entrez! Entrez! Messieurs.” She stood -aside and waved her guests toward the house.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE “Maison Bondie” consisted of two -square buildings of the blockhouse type, set -thirty or forty feet apart and connected by -a single roof that turned the intervening space into -a commodious shed, beneath which was a well and -a rack with half a dozen basins that plainly comprised -the toilet arrangements of the hotel. Both -buildings were built of logs, roughly squared and -strongly notched together at the corners. The -doorways, which opened on the covered space, were -small, and the doors themselves were massive. The -windows were few and were provided with stout inside -shutters that could be swung into place and -fastened at a moment’s notice. Loopholes were so -placed as to command all sides of the building. The -place looked as if built to withstand an attack, and, -in fact, had withstood more than one in its ten-years’ -history.</p> - -<p>Back of the buildings were half a dozen wagons, -each fronted by a pair of horses or mules, which -were contentedly munching corn from the heavy -troughs that had been removed from the rear and -placed athwart the tongue of the wagon.</p> - -<p>Yielding to Madame Fantine’s insistence the newcomers -turned toward the entrance to the hotel.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span> -But before he had taken a dozen steps Major Stickney -halted. “Hold on!” he exclaimed. “I’ve got -to go in a minute. I’ll be back tonight, Mr. Telfair—but -I want to know something before I go. Tell -me, Peter, and you too, Madame Fantine, did you -not come from France to Gallipolis in 1790?”</p> - -<p>The Bondies stopped short. Madame Fantine’s -startled eyes sprang to Alagwa’s face, then dropped -away. “But yes, Monsieur,” she cried. “But -yes! Ah! It was dreadful. The company have -defraud us. They have promised us the rich lands -and the pleasant climate and the fine country and -the game most abundant. And when we come we -find it is all covered with the great forests. There -is no land to grow the crops until we cut away the -trees. Figure to yourself, messieurs, was it not the -wicked thing to bring from Paris to such a spot men -who know not to cut trees?”</p> - -<p>Stickney nodded. “It was pretty bad,” he admitted. -“There’s no doubt about that, though the -company wasn’t altogether to blame, I believe. But -what I wanted to ask was whether a gentleman, M. -Delaroche Telfair, was on your ship.”</p> - -<p>“M. Delaroche! You know M. Delaroche?” -Madame Fantine’s eyes grew big and the color faded -from her cheeks. “But yes, monsieur, he was on the -ship. And he was with us before. We knew him -well. Is it not so, Pierre?”</p> - -<p>Peter Bondie nodded. “All the life we have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span> -known M. Delaroche,” he said. “We were born on -the estate of his father, the old count. Later we -have come with him to America. Ah! But he was -the great man! When he married Mademoiselle -Delawar at Marietta, Fantine go to her as maid. -Later she nurse la bebée. And then Madame Telfair -die, and M. Delaroche is all, what you call, -broke up. He take la bebée and he go away into the -woods and I see him never again. But I hear that -he is dead and that la bebée grows up with the -Indians.”</p> - -<p>“She did!” Major Stickney struck in. “She -was with them till the other day. Now she has -disappeared. I thought, perhaps, you might know -something of her. Mr. Telfair here has come to -Ohio to find her.”</p> - -<p>The French woman’s beady eyes jumped to Jack’s -face. “This monsieur!” she gasped. “Is he of -the family Telfair?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, of the American branch. His people have -lived in Alabama for a hundred years!”</p> - -<p>“And he seeks the Lady Estelle?” Wonder -spoke in the woman’s tones.</p> - -<p>Stickney nodded impatiently. “Yes! Of course,” -he reiterated. “The old Count Telfair is dead and -his estates all belong to the daughter of M. Delaroche. -The title descends to the English branch, -to Mr. Brito Telfair——”</p> - -<p>“M. Brito!” Fantine and Pierre looked at each<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span> -other. “Ah! that is what bring him to Canada,” -they cried, together.</p> - -<p>“You knew that he was in Canada?” It was -Jack who asked the question.</p> - -<p>Fantine answered. “But, yes, monsieur,” she -said. “We have friends at Malden that send us -word. I know not then why he come, but now it is -very clear. He want to marry the Lady Estelle and -get her property to pay his debts. Ah! Le -scelerat!”</p> - -<p>“You seem to know him?” Jack was curious.</p> - -<p>“Non, monsieur. I know him not. But I know -of him. And I know his house. M. Delaroche has -hated it always.”</p> - -<p>“He warned Tecumseh against him before he -died, and when Brito turned up and asked for Miss -Estelle, as he did two or three months ago, Tecumseh -put him off and sent a messenger to me asking me -to come and take charge of her. I am a member -of the Panther clan of the Shawnees, you know; -Tecumseh’s mother raised me up a member when -I was a boy, ten years ago. Perhaps it was because -of Delaroche that she did so. I came on at once -but when I got to Girty’s Town I found that the -girl had disappeared.”</p> - -<p>“And you can not find her?” Fantine’s bright -eyes were darting from Jack’s face to Alagwa’s and -back again. “You have search—and you can not -find her?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span>“Well! I haven’t searched very much!” Jack -laughed ruefully. “I haven’t been able.” He went -on and told of his adventures with Williams.</p> - -<p>Fantine listened in seeming amazement, with -many exclamations and shrugs of her mighty -shoulders. When Jack tried to slur over his picking -up of the boy, as being, to his mind, not pertinent -to the subject, she broke in and insisted on -hearing the tale in full.</p> - -<p>Alagwa listened with swimming brain. She was -sure, sure, that this fiendishly clever French woman -had penetrated her sex at a glance and that she had -almost as swiftly guessed her identity with the missing -girl. Exposure stared her in the face. Her -plans rocked and crashed about her.</p> - -<p>In the last three days Alagwa had come to think -her disguise perfect and had built on it in many -ways. By it she had hoped to carry out her pledge -to Tecumseh. With her detection her mission must -fail or, at least, be sharply circumscribed. She had -known Jack for three days only, but she was very -sure that, once he knew who she was, he would insist -on taking her south with him to Alabama. She -could not serve Tecumseh in Alabama. Moreover—her -heart fluttered at the thought—Jack would no -longer treat her with the same frank, free comradeship -that had grown so dear to her. She did not -know how he would treat her, but she was sure it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span> -would be different. And she did not want it to be -different.</p> - -<p>Desperately she sought for some way to ward off -the threatened disclosure. The French woman seemed -in no haste to speak; perhaps she might be induced -to be silent. Alagwa remembered the roll of gold -coins that Tecumseh had given her. Perhaps——</p> - -<p>Suddenly she remembered that this woman had -been her nurse when she was small. For the moment -she had failed to realize this fact or to guess what it -might mean. Now, that she did so, hope sprang up in -her heart. If Fantine kept silence till she could -speak to her alone she would throw herself on her -mercy, tell her all that she had not already guessed, -and beg for silence. Surely her old nurse might -grant her that much. She did not know, she could -not know, that her wishes would be law to one like -Fantine, born on the estates of the great house from -which she was descended.</p> - -<p>Jack’s tale drew to a close. “That’s all, I -reckon,” he ended. “Can you suggest anything, -madame?”</p> - -<p>Fantine’s lips twitched. Again she looked at -Alagwa and then met Jack’s eyes squarely. “Non, -Monsieur! I can suggest nothing, me!” she assented, -deliberately. “But, monsieur, I make you -very welcome to the house of Bondie. Is this”—she -jerked her head toward Alagwa—“is this the -boy you have rescue?” Her eyes bored into his.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span>Jack grinned. He was beginning to like the big -French woman immensely. “I wouldn’t call it -rescue, exactly,” he said. “But this is the boy.”</p> - -<p>“Ah! la, la,” the French woman burst out. “Le -pauvre garcon! But he is tired, yes, one can see -that, and I am the big fool that I keep him and you -standing. Ah, la, la, but we all are of blindness. -Ah! yes but of a blindness. Entrez, entrez, messieurs! -Peter will show the black monsieur where to -put the horses. Entrez!”</p> - -<p>Jack turned obediently toward the entrance, but -Stickney halted. Plainly he was disappointed at -Fantine’s lack of information. “Well! I’m off,” -he declared. “I’ll be back later to go over things -with you, Mr. Telfair.”</p> - -<p>He strode away, and Jack and Alagwa followed -Madame Fantine beneath the shed. Cato and Peter -led the horses away.</p> - -<p>The smaller of the two buildings evidently served -as a store. No white men were visible about its -entrance, but through the open door the newcomers -could see an Indian woman behind the counter and -a dozen blanketed Indians patiently waiting their -turn to trade. At the door of the larger building, -several white men were sitting, and inside, in the -great bar room, Jack could see a dozen more eating -at a table made of roughly-hewn planks set on homemade -trestles.</p> - -<p>Close to the door Madame Fantine paused. “You<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span> -will want to wash, yes?” she questioned, waving -her hands toward the basins.</p> - -<p>Jack nodded. “Glad to!” he declared.</p> - -<p>“It is all yours, monsieur. It is not what you -are accustomed to, but on the frontier—What would -you, monsieur? For the table—ah! but, messieurs, -there you shall live well. I go to prepare for you -the dishes of la belle France.”</p> - -<p>She turned away, then stopped. “Ah! But I -forget!” she exclaimed. “Le pauvre garcon has -the fatigue, yes,” she turned to Alagwa. “Come -with me, jeune monsieur,” she said; “and you shall -rest. Oh! but it is that you remind me of my own -son, he who has gone to the blessed angels. Come!” -Without waiting for comment the big French woman -threw her arm around Alagwa’s shoulders and hurried -her into the house, past the eating men, who -regarded her not at all, and on into another room.</p> - -<p>There she turned on the girl, holding out her -arms. “Ah! Ma petite fille!” she cried. “Think -you Fantine did not know you when you looked at -her out of the face of that dear, dead Monsieur -Delaroche. Have I hold you in my arms when you -were the one small bebée to forget you now. Ah! -non! non! non! Ah! But the men are of a blindness. -The wise young man he search, search, and -not know he have found already.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa’s heart melted. Suddenly she realized -the strain under which she had been for the last<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span> -four days. With a sob of relief she slipped into the -French woman’s arms and wept her heart out on the -latter’s motherly bosom.</p> - -<p>The latter soothed her gently. “There! There! -Pauvre bebée,” she murmured. “Fear not! All -will be right. But what has happened that you are -thus?” She glanced at the girl’s masculine attire. -“Ah! But it must be the great tale. Tell Fantine -about it. Tell your old nurse, who adores you!”</p> - -<p>Between sobs Alagwa obeyed, pouring out the -tale of all that had befallen her since the day when -Captain Brito had sought her out. She held back -only the real object with which she had come into -the American lines. “Tecumseh sent me to find -the young white chief from the far south,” she -ended.</p> - -<p>“But, ma cherie,” the French woman interrupted. -“Have you not found him? Why do you not tell -him who you are?”</p> - -<p>The girl shook her head in panic. “Oh! No! -No!” she cried. “He must not know.”</p> - -<p>“But why not?”</p> - -<p>“Because—because”—Alagwa cast about desperately -for an excuse. “He would be ashamed -of me,” she said. “I am so different from the -women he has known.”</p> - -<p>Fantine’s eyes twinkled. Emphatically she nodded. -“Different? Yes, truly, you are different,” -she cried, scanning the dark, oval face, the scarlet<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span> -lips, the rich hair that tangled about the broad -brow. “Ah! But yes, of a truth you are different! -In a few months you will be very different. -But, monsieur the wise young man will not complain.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa’s eyes widened. “You—you think I will -be pretty like—like the white women he has known?” -she asked, shyly.</p> - -<p>“Pretty! Mother of God! She asks whether she -will be pretty? Ah! Rascal that you are; to jest -with your old nurse so. But—but it is not proper -that you should be clothed thus—” again Fantine -glanced rebukingly at the girl’s nether limbs—“or -that you should travel alone with a young man. -That becomes not a demoiselle of France.”</p> - -<p>The terror in the girl’s eyes came back. “But I -must,” she cried. “Please—please——”</p> - -<p>“But why?”</p> - -<p>A deep red stained the girl’s cheeks. “Oh,” -she cried. “I must know why he seeks me. The -Captain Brito want to marry me for what has come -to me. This one—this one—Is he, too, base? Does -he, too, seek me because I have great possessions? -If he finds out who I am I shall never learn. If he -does not find out——”</p> - -<p>The French woman chuckled. “And the wise -young man does not guess that you are a woman!” -she cried, holding up her hands. “Ah! Quelle -bétise. Eh! bien, I see well it is too late to talk of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span> -chaperones now. Have no fear, ma petite! I will -not tell him. He seems a good young man—as men -go. I read it in his eyes. But truly he is a great -fool.”</p> - -<p>But at this the girl grew suddenly angry. “He -is no fool,” she cried. “He is——”</p> - -<p>“All men are fools,” quoth the French woman, -sagely. “You will find it so in time. Go your way, -cherie! Fantine Loire will not betray you. And, -remember, her house is ever open to you. Come back -to her when you will. Tonight you will sleep here, -in this room of my own son, now with the blessed -saints. And now—Mother of God! I must fly or -M. Jack will be mad with the hunger. And, cherie, -remember this! Men are not well to deal with when -they are hungry. Feed them, ma cherie! Feed -them!” She rushed away, leaving Alagwa alone.</p> - -<p>How the girl got through dinner she never knew. -After it, when Major Stickney returned, bringing -Captain Wells, a tall, grave man, she pleaded fatigue -and left him and Jack to talk with each other and -with the men in the hotel, while she slipped away to -the room that Madame Fantine had prepared for -her. Till late that night she and the kindly French -woman sat up and talked.</p> - -<p>Even when left alone the girl did not sleep. Her -duty to Tecumseh lay heavy on her soul. She must -send him the information in her possession or she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span> -must confess herself a coward and a traitor to her -people.</p> - -<p>Yet she shrank from it. Not for the sake of the -men in the fort! She hated them all, she told herself. -Gladly would she slay them all. And not -for the sake of the Bondies. She had learned enough -that night to feel sure that they would be safe from -any Indian attack. No! Her hesitation came from -another cause.</p> - -<p>What would Jack say when he knew that she was -a spy? Insistently the question drummed into her -ears. What would he say? What would he do? -She pressed her fingers to her hot eyeballs, but the -pressure did not dim the vision of his eyes, stricken -blank with anger and with shame.</p> - -<p>And yet she must send Tecumseh word. She -must! She had promised to keep the faith, to do -her duty regardless of consequences to herself. She -had visioned death as her punishment and had been -ready to face it. She had not visioned the torture of -Jack’s hurt eyes. For a moment they seemed to -her harder to face than the stake and the flame. -But should she stop for this—stop because the -penalty was heavier than she had thought? Never.</p> - -<p>One crumb of comfort came to her. One thing -at least she could do; one small recompense she -could exact. She could demand Jack’s safety. She -could send a message to Tecumseh that would make -the lad’s comings and goings safe. She knew he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span> -would hate her for it. But he would hate her anyway. -She would not stop for that. She would -make him safe. And when it was all over and he -knew, she would die as an Indian maid should die.</p> - -<p>Noiselessly—as noiselessly as she had moved -through the forests—Alagwa rose from her bed and -slipped to the door. Inch by inch she opened it and -looked out. The house was black and silent; its -inmates slept. Slowly she crept to the entrance -to the big bar room. The night was hot and the -windows and the door stood wide open, letting in -a faint glimmer from moon and stars. In its light -the sleeping forms of men on the floor loomed black. -Side by side they lay, so close together that Alagwa -could see no clear passageway between them. Suppose -they waked as she tried to pass!</p> - -<p>It did not occur to her that her going out would -surprise no one—that no one would dream of questioning -her. Her conscience made a coward of her -and made her think that to be seen was to be suspected. -Desperately she caught her breath and -looked about her, seeking Jack’s form, but failing -to find it. He was indistinguishable among the -blanket-wrapped forms.</p> - -<p>Long she stood at the door, peering into the -room, her heart hammering in unsteady rhythm. -At last she stepped forward gingerly, threading her -way, inch by inch, catching her breath as some -sleeper stirred uneasily, expecting every moment<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span> -to hear the ringing out of a fierce challenge. Foot -by foot she pressed onward till the door was at her -hand. Through it she stepped out beneath the midnight -sky.</p> - -<p>The night was very still. High overhead the -slim crescent of the moon peered through swift-flying -clouds. Round about, the great stars, -scarcely dimmed, flared like far-off candles. The -broad shallow river ran away to the east, a silver -whiplash laid across the darkened prairie. Beyond, -the huddle of huts that marked the Indian village -stood out against the horizon. To the left, nearer -at hand, rose the black quadrilateral of the fort.</p> - -<p>All around rose the voices of the night. A screech -owl hooted from a near-by tree. A fox barked in -the long grass. Nearer at hand restless horses and -mules stamped at their fastenings. Over all rose -the bellow of bullfrogs, the lapping of the river -against its banks, and the ceaseless, strident calls of -the crickets.</p> - -<p>Once more Alagwa’s hot eyes sought the fort. -Within it were the men of the race she hated—the -men who had derided and had threatened the young -white chief. There, too, the murderer of Wilwiloway -slept safe and snug, pardoned—yes, even commended—for -his crime. And should she withhold -her hand? Never! She would take revenge upon -them all.</p> - -<p>Swiftly she slipped through the grass to the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span> -shadow of a near-by tree. Then, raising her head, -she gave the soft cry of the whip-poor-will.</p> - -<p>Long she waited, but no answer came. Again -she called and yet again, till at last an answering -call came softly to her ears. A moment more and -the form of the runner shaped itself out of the -night.</p> - -<p>Eagerly she leaned forward. “Bear word to -the great chief,” she said, in the Shawnee tongue, -“that the fort here is almost without ammunition. -Let the great chief come quickly and it will fall into -his hands like a ripe persimmon. But let him have -a care for the lives of the agent, Major Stickney, -and for those of Peter Bondie and his family. They -are the friends of Alagwa.”</p> - -<p>The runner nodded. “Alagwa need not fear,” -he promised. “They are also the friends of the -Indian. Is there more to be said.”</p> - -<p>“Yes!” Alagwa nodded. “Tell the great chief -that I have found the young white chief from the -south, and that through him I hope to learn many -things that, without him, I could not learn. Say -to him that Alagwa demands that he give warning -to all his warriors not to touch the white chief. -For on him Alagwa’s success depends. I have -spoken. Go.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap2">LONG before sunrise the “Maison Bondie” -was awake and stirring. Early hours were -the rule for travellers in those days on the -frontier. While yet the earth was shrouded in -shadow and the mists were drifting along the broad -ribbon of the river, the sleepers on the bar-room -floor were rolling up their blankets and making their -hasty toilets before scattering to feed the mules -and hitch them to the wagons preparatory for a -start to Vincennes and the south. Half an hour -later they returned to the bar room to devour the -hasty yet heavy meal spread for them.</p> - -<p>Jack and his party were astir as early as the rest—Jack -and Cato because it was impossible to sleep -later on the crowded floor, and Alagwa because of -her keen anticipation of the coming day. Cato -hurried out to see to the horses and to the mule -that Jack had bought for him the night before, and -Jack and Alagwa foregathered at the wash basins -beneath the shed. Even earlier than the wagoners, -they seated themselves at the rough table and -hastily devoured the breakfast placed before them, -impatient to be gone down the long trail that led -to Fort Miami and to Detroit.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span>Tom Rogers was not to accompany them. In -spite of Colonel Johnson’s assurances, Jack was by -no means certain that either Alagwa or Captain -Brito had left the vicinity of Wapakoneta. He was -going to Detroit because that seemed the most -promising thing to do, but he decided to send Rogers -back to Wapakoneta to keep a sharp look-out for -both the girl and the man.</p> - -<p>“You’ll know what to do if you find the man,” -he said, grimly, as he told Rogers good-by. “War -has begun, and Captain Brito has no right to be -in this country. If you find the girl, take her to -Colonel Johnson and then get word to me as quick -as you can.”</p> - -<p>Amid many calls of adieu and bon voyage from -the kindly French people the travellers set off. The -sun was not yet up, but as the three cantered to -the ford close beside the blockhouse, that frowned -from the southwest corner of the fort, the morning -gun boomed and the Stars and Stripes flung out -to the breeze. An instant later, as the horses -splashed through the shallow water, the sun thrust -out through a gash in the clouds above the eastern -forest, lighting up the snapping banner with its -seventeen emblematic stars. A moment more, and -the dew-studded fields began to glisten like diamonds, -coruscating with many-colored fire, and the -mists that lay along the river shredded and swirled -in rainbow tints. The wind sprang up and the vast<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span> -arch of the heavens thummed with reverberant -murmurs, inarticulate voices of a world new born, -thrilling with the ever-fresh hopes with which it had -thrilled since the morning of time.</p> - -<p>For a few miles the road ran through open fields -that stretched along the north bank of the Maumee, -a sunlit water strung with necklaces of bubbles that -streamed away from the long grasses that lay upon -its surface. A faint freshness rose like perfume -from the stream, diffusing itself through the amber -air. Here and there limbs of sunken trees protruded -from the water, token of the great trunks -submerged beneath its flood; round them castles -of foam swelled and sank, chuckling away into -nothingness.</p> - -<p>Then came the forest, a mounting line stretching -across the path. Fragrant at first and warm with -the morning sun it swiftly closed in, dim and moist -and cool, arching above the road and the heads of -the travellers.</p> - -<p>Side by side rode Jack and Alagwa. The girl’s -heart was beating high, leaping in unison with the -stride of the horse that bore her. Gone were the -fancies and questionings of the night. For good -or for ill she had sent the message to Tecumseh. -She had kept faith with those who had cared for her -for so many years. She had insured Jack’s safety -so long as she should remain with him. It was all -done and could not be undone. Some day, she knew,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span> -she must pay for it all, pay to the uttermost, but -that day was not yet. Till it came she would forget. -Resolutely she put all fear of the future behind her, -living only in and for the moment.</p> - -<p>Jack, too, was happy; the dawn worked its magic -on him as it did the girl by his side. Youth, -strength, and health jumped together in his veins. -He did not know why he was happy. He was not -prone to analyze his sensations. If he had thought -of the fact at all he would probably have imagined -that he was happy because he was going to the seat -of war and because he hoped to find there the girl -in search of whom he had come so many miles. It -would not have occurred to him that he was rejoicing -less in the coming end of his journey than -he was in the journey itself. Nor would it have -crossed his mind that he would have contemplated -the journey itself with far less pleasure if he had -been alone or had been accompanied only by Cato. -He rejoiced in the company of his new boy chum -without knowing that he did so.</p> - -<p>And he had not thought of Sally Habersham for -more than twenty-four hours!</p> - -<p>For a time neither spoke. The road was broader -and better than that up the St. Marys. For years -it had been a thoroughfare along which Indians, -traders, and armies had moved in long procession; -and it was well trampled, though it still required -careful riding to prevent the horses stumbling.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span>Alagwa, in particular, was silent because she was -puzzling over a question that the events of the last -evening had made pressing.</p> - -<p>If she was ever to find out beyond a doubt the -reason why Jack came to Ohio to search for her she -must find it out at once. She did not know, could -not know, how long her opportunity to question -would continue. Fantine had detected her secret -and had kept it. At any moment another might -detect it and might be less kindly.</p> - -<p>Besides, Fantine had spoken as if she was doing -wrong in travelling with Jack, even though he -thought her a boy. Alagwa wondered at this, for -no such conventions held among the Indians, among -whom in early days unchastity was so rare that a -woman had better be dead than guilty of it.</p> - -<p>Jack noticed the girl’s abstraction and rode -silently, waiting on her mood. At last he grew impatient. -“A penny for your thoughts, youngster,” -he offered, smiling.</p> - -<p>Alagwa started. Then she met his eyes gravely. -“I wonder much,” she said. “The thoughts of the -Indian are simple, but those of the white men are -forked, and I can not read them. You have come by -dim trails over miles of hill and forest to find -this girl whom you know never. And the Captain -Brito, the chief in the red coat, he also come far, -by land and by sea, to seek her. Why do you -come? I do not understand.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span>“Why do I come?” Jack echoed the words, -smilingly. “Well! Let’s see! I come for several -reasons—partly because Tecumseh sent me a belt -asking me to come and partly because I was in the -mood for adventure, but mostly because the girl is -my cousin and because she needs help. I told you -all this before, didn’t I?”</p> - -<p>“Yes! But is not the Count Brito ready to help? -Why do you not let him?”</p> - -<p>Jack laughed. “I reckon he is,” he confessed. -“And, so far as I know, he might have been able -to make her quite as happy as my people can. I -don’t really know anything against Brito. His -reputation isn’t very good, but, Lord! whose is?”</p> - -<p>“If he found her, what would he do with her?” -Alagwa knew she was on perilous ground, but she -went on, nevertheless.</p> - -<p>“He’d marry her out of hand, of course. That -would give him the Telfair estates, you see. He’s -said to be heavily in debt, and the money would be -a godsend to him. After that a lot would depend -on the girl. If she happened to take his fancy he -might be very decent to her. And there’s no denying -that she might like the life he would give her. -But the chances are against it, and it’s my duty -to see that she isn’t tricked into it blindfolded. Here -in this forest she couldn’t possibly understand, any -more than you can, what a wonderful thing it is -to be mistress of the Telfair estates. If she marries<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span> -Brito she gives up everything without having known -that she had it.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa was listening earnestly, trying hard to -comprehend the new unthought-of phase of life that -Jack was discussing. One thing, however, she -fastened on.</p> - -<p>“But if <i>she</i> refuse to marry <i>him</i>?” she questioned. -“If she say she will not make his moccasins nor -pound his corn?”</p> - -<p>“She wouldn’t refuse. What! An Indian-bred -girl, ignorant of everything outside these Ohio -forests, refuse to marry a British officer, who came -to her with his hands full of gifts? Refusal isn’t -worth considering. And if she really should be -stubborn he could easily ruin her reputation——”</p> - -<p>“Reputation? What is that?”</p> - -<p>“It’s—it’s—I’ll be hanged if I know exactly how -to explain it so that you can understand. I reckon -the Indians don’t bother about it. But in civilization, -among white people, a girl can’t travel alone -with a man without getting talked about. Brito -wouldn’t be likely to stop at trifles. He’d contrive -it so that the girl would be compromised and then -she’d have to marry him.” Jack stopped; he was -a clean-mouthed, clean-hearted young fellow, but he -was no prude and he could not understand why he -should find it so hard to explain matters to the boy -at his side. Nevertheless, when he met Alagwa’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span> -wide, innocent eyes, he stopped in despair, tongue-tied -and flushing.</p> - -<p>Alagwa was clearly startled. “You mean that -if a white girl take the long trail with a man she is -comprom—compromised—and that she must marry -him or that the sachems and the braves will drive -her from the council fires?” she questioned.</p> - -<p>“Well—something like that. This girl, in her -ignorance, would lose her reputation before she knew -she had one. And she’d have to marry him to get -it back!”</p> - -<p>“But—But if he refuse to marry her. If a man -travel with a girl and then not marry her?” A -deep red had rushed to Alagwa’s cheeks; she bent -down her head to hide it.</p> - -<p>Jack shrugged his shoulders. “Brito wouldn’t -refuse!” he declared.</p> - -<p>“I mean not Brito only. I mean any man who -had—had compromise a girl. Suppose he refuse to -take her to his lodge in honor?”</p> - -<p>“Any man who did that would be a scoundrel. -The girl’s father or brother or friend would call -him out and kill him. But, as I say, Brito would -marry Estelle, of course. And he wouldn’t need to -do anything to compel her. She’d marry him willingly -enough. You know it.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa did not deny it. Jack’s assertion was -correct; no Indian girl would refuse to marry a redcoat<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span> -chief. But his earlier assertion concerning the -loss of reputation gave her food for thought.</p> - -<p>“And you?” she asked. “If you find her what -will you do?”</p> - -<p>“I? I’d take her home.”</p> - -<p>“And would it not compromise her to travel so -long and dim a trail with you?”</p> - -<p>Jack flushed. “It isn’t exactly the same thing,” -he answered at last, hesitatingly. “This is America -and we are not so censorious. Europe is very different. -Over here we think people are all right till -we are forced to think otherwise. In Europe they -think them bad from the start. And, of course, I’d -protect her all I could. Brito wouldn’t. He’d be -trying to make her marry him, you see, and I -shouldn’t.”</p> - -<p>The girl straightened suddenly in her saddle. -“You—you do not want to marry her?” she -faltered.</p> - -<p>A cloud came over Jack’s face. “No!” he said, -slowly. “No! I don’t want to marry her. I shall -never marry anybody.”</p> - -<p>Startled, the girl looked at him. Then her eyes -dropped and for a little she rode silent. When the -talk was resumed it was on other subjects.</p> - -<p>All that day and all the next the three rode -beneath great trees that rose fifty feet from the -ground without branch or leaf, and that stood so -close together that no ray of sun came through their<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span> -arching branches. It was nearly sunset on the -second day when they came to the fort built by -General Anthony Wayne nearly twenty years before -at the junction of the Maumee and the Auglaize—the -fort which he had named Defiance, because he -declared that he defied “all English, all Indians, -and all the devils in hell to take it.” From it he -and his army had sallied out to meet and crush the -Miamis at the battle of the Fallen Timbers.</p> - -<p>The ruins of the fort stood ten feet above the -water, on the high point between the Maumee and -the Auglaize. Mounting the gentle slope that led -upward from the west the travellers descended into -a wide half-filled ditch and then climbed a steep -glacis of sloping earth that had encircled the ancient -palisades. The logs and fascines that had held the -ramparts in place had long since rotted away and -most of the inner lines of palisades had disappeared. -Within their former bounds a few scorched and -blackened logs marked where the four blockhouses -had stood. The narrow ditch that cut the eastern -wall and ran down to the edge of the river—the -ditch dug to enable Wayne’s soldiers to get water -unseen by lurking foes—was half filled by sliding -earth. Mounting the crumbling ramparts Jack and -Alagwa stood and stared, striving to picture the -scene as it was in the days already ancient when -the United States flag had flown for the first time -in the valley of the Maumee.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span>For two or three hundred yards on all sides the -forest trees had been cut away and their places -had been taken by a light growth of maple and -scrub oak. On the south, on the west bank of the -Auglaize, a single mighty oak towered heavenward—the -council tree of all the northern tribes, the -tree beneath which fifty years before Pontiac had -mustered the greatest Indian council known in all -America and had welded the tribes together for his -desperate but vain assault upon the growing power -of the white men—an assault which Tecumseh was -even then striving to emulate.</p> - -<p>Beyond the council oak, southward along the -Auglaize, stretched an apple orchard planted years -before by the indefatigable “Appleseed Johnny.” -To the north, beyond the Maumee, stood a single -apple tree, a mammoth of its kind, ancient already -and destined to live and bear for eighty years to -come. To the west, along the road down which the -three had come, black spots showed where George -Ironside’s store had stood, where Perault, the baker, -had baked and traded, where McKenzie, the Scot, -had made silver ornaments at a stiff price for the -aborigines, where Henry Ball and his wife, taken -prisoners at St. Claire’s defeat, had won their -captors’ good will and saved their lives by working, -he as a boatman and she by washing and sewing. -Near at hand, but out of sight from the fort, was -the house of James Girty, brother of Simon, where<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span> -British agents from Canada had continually come to -fan the discontent of the Indians against the Americans. -Up and down the rivers stretches of weeds -and underbrush choked the ground where Wayne -had found vast fields of enormous corn. Alagwa’s -heart burned hotly as she remembered that her people -and those of kindred tribes had tilled those fields -for centuries before the white man had come into the -Ohio country. The fortunes of war had laid them -waste. Silently she prayed that the fortunes of war -might yet restore them!</p> - -<p>Camp was rapidly pitched, the horses fed and -picketed for the night, and supper prepared and -eaten. By the time it was finished darkness had -closed in. The moon was not yet up, though -promise of it was silvering the unquiet tops of the -eastern forest. But on the exposed point the glimmer -of the blazing stars gave light enough to see.</p> - -<p>Jack stood up. “The first watch is yours, Cato,” -he said. “Call me about midnight.” “Bob,” he -turned to the girl, “as you want to watch so badly, -I’ll call you about two o’clock. I needn’t caution -you both to be careful.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa was tired and she slept deeply and dreamlessly. -She did not share Jack’s fears. Even -though she knew her message could not yet have -reached Tecumseh, she felt secure under the aegis -of his protection. Nevertheless, when Jack waked -her and she saw the low moon staring at her along<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span> -the western water, she went to her post at the edge -of the rampart determined to keep good watch and -make sure that no wanderer of the night should -creep upon the camp unawares.</p> - -<p>From where she sat she could see along both -rivers—down the Maumee to the east and up the -Auglaize to the south. Up the latter, lay her home -at Wapakoneta, a scant twenty miles away. All her -travels for the past few days had been west and -east again, westward out one leg of a triangle, and -then eastward down the other leg, and the net gain -of one hundred and fifty miles march, west and east, -had been only a score of miles north.</p> - -<p>Toward Wapakoneta she strained her eyes, not -solely because it was her home, but because if danger -came at all it would come from its direction. Tecumseh -and his braves had come down the Auglaize -less than a week before and laggards might follow -him at any time. Or, perhaps, Captain Brito might -come north; Alagwa knew that Jack doubted his -having left the country.</p> - -<p>The dawn was beginning to break. The boles of -the trees began to stand separately out; the leaves -took on a tinge of green. Over all reigned silence. -No faintest sound gave warning of approaching -enemies. But the girl well knew that silence did not -mean safety. Too often had she heard the Shawnee -braves boast of how they crept on their sleeping -enemies in the dawn. With renewed determination<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span> -she thrust forward her heavy rifle and strained her -eyes and ears anew. Jack had trusted her; she must -not fail him.</p> - -<p>Suddenly she started. Was something moving -beside the great council oak or was it a mere figment -of her overstrained nerves. The horses were moving -uneasily; now and then they snorted. Did they -scent something? Alagwa remembered that more -than once she had heard the Shawnee braves complain -that the sleeping whites had been awakened -by their uneasy horses.</p> - -<p>Abruptly anger swelled in the girl’s heart. The -braves had no right to attack Jack’s party. She -had sent word to Tecumseh that it must be protected. -True, Tecumseh could not yet have received -her message, much less have sent word to respect it. -Any Indians who were creeping upon the camp -could only be a party of late recruits from Wapakoneta, -bound north to join Tecumseh and the -British. Nevertheless, they were acting counter to -the orders that Tecumseh would surely give. -Alagwa knew that her anger was illogical, but she -let it flame higher and higher as she watched. If -the Shawnees dared to attack——</p> - -<p>Again she set herself to listen. She must not -rouse the camp without cause. Jack would laugh -at her if she were frightened so easily. No! He -would not laugh! He was too kind to laugh. But -he would despise her. She must remember that she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span> -was playing the man; she must show no weakness. -Nothing had moved amid the tree trunks; she had -only imagined it. With a sigh of relief she lowered -her rifle.</p> - -<p>Simultaneously came a crash. A bullet drove the -earth from the rampart into her face, filling her -eyes and mouth with its spatter. Then from every -tree, from every rock, forms, half naked, horrible, -painted, came leaping. Bullets whistled before -them, rending the tortured air. As they topped the -ramparts one, wearing a woodsman’s garb, caught -his foot and fell forward, sprawling; the others -hurled themselves toward Jack and Cato. Alagwa -did not stop to think that these were her people, -her friends. Instinctively the muzzle of her rifle -found the naked breast of the warrior who was -springing at Jack, and instinctively she pressed the -trigger. Then, heedless of the kick of the heavy -rifle, and of the blinding smoke that curled from its -barrel, and reckless of the pulsing bullets she threw -herself forward. “Stop!” she shrieked, in the -Shawnee tongue. “Stop! Tecumseh commands -it.”</p> - -<p>The braves did not stop. Relentlessly they came -on. One of them sprang at Cato; his tomahawk -flashed in the dawn and the negro went down, sprawling -upon the ground. But Jack was up now; his -rifle spoke and the Indian who had felled Cato -crashed across his body. As Jack turned, a whirling<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span> -hatchet struck him in the chest and he staggered -backward. But as the man who had thrown it -whooped with triumph, Alagwa’s pistol barked and -he fell. From beneath him Jack rolled to Cato’s -side and caught up the rifle that had fallen from the -negro’s flaccid fingers. As he renewed the spilled -priming, Alagwa, weaponless, heard a shot and -felt her cap fly from her head and go fluttering to the -ground. Then Jack marked the man who had fired -upon her and shot him down.</p> - -<p>Dazed, Alagwa staggered back. For a moment -she saw the battlefield, photographed indelibly upon -the retinas of her eyes; saw the man at whom Jack -had fired clutching at the air as he fell; saw the -sole remaining foe, the man who had tripped at the -rampart, a huge man, broad and tall, leap at Jack. -Then sight and sound were blotted out together.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">HOW long unconsciousness held Alagwa she -never knew. It could not have been for -very long, however, for when she opened her -eyes she saw Jack and the man in hunter’s costume, -the only foe left standing by that short, fierce fight, -still facing each other. She saw them dimly, for, -though the dawn was merging fast into the full day, -to her eyes darkness still impended.</p> - -<p>Nor were her eyes alone affected; a pall seemed -to bind both her mind and her muscles, holding her -motionless. Idly she watched the two, with a -curious sense of detachment; they seemed like figures -in a dream whose fate to her meant less than nothing.</p> - -<p>The two men had drawn a little apart and were -watching each other narrowly. Evidently they -had been struggling fiercely, for both were panting; -Alagwa could see the heave of their breasts as they -drew breath. The advantage seemed to be with -the unknown, for Jack was practically unarmed; -in his hand he had only a light stick, charred at the -end, evidently a survival from some ancient campfire, -while the other gripped a pistol.</p> - -<p>At last Jack broke the silence. “So, Captain -Telfair,” he said. “We meet again!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span>Slowly into Alagwa’s consciousness the meaning -of Jack’s words penetrated. She did not move; -she could not move; but her eyes focused on the man -in hunter’s garb who leaned forward, half crouching, -and glared into Jack’s face.</p> - -<p>It was Brito. He had not even disguised himself, -unless it be counted a disguise to discard his conspicuous -red coat in favor of a neutral-tinted shirt -and deerskin trousers. Had it not been for Alagwa’s -dazed condition, she would have known him instantly.</p> - -<p>As she watched, he threw back his shoulders and -laughed with evil triumph.</p> - -<p>“Yes!” he jeered. “We meet once more—for -the last time. Your friends hounded me out of -Wapakoneta. Damme! but they timed their actions -well! Who would have thought they would drive -me here just in time to intercept you. The fortunes -of war, my dear cousin, the fortunes of war.”</p> - -<p>Jack did not speak, and the other half raised his -pistol and went on, with a sudden change of tone: -“You cub,” he hissed, “you’ve got only yourself to -blame. I warned you not to come between me and -Estelle Telfair. You came—and now you pay for -it. I’d be a fool to let you escape when fortune has -delivered you into my hand.”</p> - -<p>Captain Brito’s tones were growing more and -more deadly. With each word Alagwa expected to -hear his pistol roar and to see Jack go crashing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span> -down. Desperately she strove to spring to the -rescue. But she could not move; she could not even -cry aloud. A more than night-mare helplessness -held her fast.</p> - -<p>Jack faced his foe undauntedly. Not for an instant -did he remove his eyes from Brito’s. Despite -the disparity in weapons he seemed not at all -afraid. “All right!” he said, coolly. “You’ve -got the advantage and I don’t doubt you’re cur -enough to use it. When you’re ready, stop yelping -and blaze away.”</p> - -<p>Brito flinched at the contempt in the American’s -tones, but he held himself in check. “Where is the -girl?” he rasped. “Where is she, d— you? -Where have you put her? Give her up, and I’ll -let you crawl home. Quick, now, or you die.”</p> - -<p>Jack’s eyes widened. “The girl?” he echoed. -“I haven’t”—he broke off—“Find her for yourself,” -he finished. Alagwa knew that he had begun -a denial. Why had he stopped? Had he suddenly -guessed who she was? Or was he hoping to trap -Brito into some admission—playing with him in the -chilly dawn in the very face of death?</p> - -<p>Brito half raised his pistol, then lowered it. “I’ll -find out now!” he gritted. “You’re at my mercy. -I’ve got a right to kill you and I’ll do it. I’ll count -three and then, if you don’t speak, I’ll fire.”</p> - -<p>Jack shrugged his shoulders. Alagwa noticed -that he was edging closer and closer to the man who<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span> -threatened him. “Don’t wait for me,” he answered -scornfully. “Shoot and get it over with, you dog. -As for telling you anything, it’s quite impossible. -It isn’t done, you know. Shoot, you hound, shoot!”</p> - -<p>The last words were drowned in the roar of the -heavy pistol. Brito had taken the lad at his word. -But as his finger pressed the trigger, Jack struck -him swiftly and desperately with his stick across -the knuckles of his pistol hand.</p> - -<p>The blow was light but it was sufficient. Diverted, -the ball went wide, burning but not breaking -the skin on Jack’s side above his heart. Before the -roar of the pistol had died away, Jack had sprung -in. His fist caught the Englishman between the eyes.</p> - -<p>Bull as he was, the latter reeled backward. The -useless pistol, jerked from his hand, flew through -the air and thudded upon the ground. An instant -he clutched at the air; then, like a cat, he was on his -feet, launching forward to meet Jack’s assault.</p> - -<p>In England boxing was in tremendous favor, and -even in America, prone to more violent methods, it -was in high esteem. Rich and poor, peer and peasant, -alike prided themselves on their strength and -quickness in feint and blow. Prize fighters were honored, -not merely by the rabble but by those who held -themselves to be the salt of the earth. Brito had -fought many a time, both for anger and for pleasure. -Jack, less quarrelsome and less fond of the -sport, was yet well trained in the use of his fists.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span>Furiously the two men crashed together, Brito -striving to crush his foe beneath his greater weight, -and Jack striving vainly to gain room for a clean, -straight stroke. Swift and brutal came the blows, -short half-arm jabs, cruel and punishing. Once -Jack was beaten to his knees, but he struggled up, -striking blindly but so furiously that Brito staggered -back.</p> - -<p>But for the moment Jack had no breath left to -follow up his advantage and Brito none to renew -the assault. Face to face they stood, with blood-streaked -faces, gaping mouths, and sobbing chests, -each glad of the respite but each determined that it -should not be for long.</p> - -<p>For an instant Brito’s eyes wandered about the -ground, seeking a weapon; for an instant Jack’s -eyes followed the Englishman’s and in that instant -he saw Alagwa where she lay crumbled against the -rampart. A yell of fury burst from his lips and he -sprang forward. Brito saw him coming and threw -his weight into a blow that would have ended the -fight if it had gone home. But it did not go home! -Jack dodged beneath it and drove his right with -deadly force against the other’s thick neck. Then -as Brito swung round, giddy from the impact, Jack -struck him on the chin and sent him reeling back a -dozen feet, clawing at the air, till he stumbled -across the body of an Indian and fell upon his back.</p> - -<p>Jack bent above him, fist drawn back. “Surrender,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span> -he panted. “Surrender! Or by God——”</p> - -<p>“Not yet!” Brito’s outflung hand had closed -upon a hatchet that had fallen from the dead brave’s -hand. Upward he hurled it with despairing fury.</p> - -<p>Whether directed by chance or by skill the cast -went home. The head of the whirling axe struck -Jack squarely upon his forehead, just at the roots -of his hair. He gasped, wavered, flung up his -hands, and sank down.</p> - -<p>Something snapped in Alagwa’s brain. The -night-mare numbness that had held her vanished. -Together mind and straining body burst the bonds -that had held them. Mad with fury she sprang to -her feet and hurled herself at Brito, striking blindly -with bare, harmless, open hands. No thought of self -was in her mind. Jack was dead; she thought only -to avenge him.</p> - -<p>Brito was scrambling to his feet. Even half -risen, his great bulk towered above the girl’s -slender form. But so sudden and so furious was -her assault that he tottered backward. But as he -reeled he clutched at her left wrist and held it, -dragging her with him, striking, struggling, fighting -like a trapped wolverene. He reached for the -other wrist, but before he could grasp it, the girl set -her knee inside of his and tripped him, hurling him -headlong. But his grip upon her did not relax, -and together on the ground the two rolled, desperately -locked. Had Brito been less exhausted<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span> -and the girl less maddened the end would have come -instantly; only her fury postponed it.</p> - -<p>Suddenly her chance came. Beneath her straining -body she felt a weapon and caught it up. It -was Brito’s pistol. As she raised it Brito snatched -for it. His grip fell short and, overbalanced, he -left his head unguarded. Before he could recover -Alagwa had struck him across the forehead with -the heavy barrel and had torn herself free.</p> - -<p>Like a cat she sprang to her feet. But Brito was -up, too, nearly as quickly; and she had no strength -left to renew her assault.</p> - -<p>For a moment the Englishman stood, rocking -slowly to and fro, striving to clear his eyes of the -blood that was trickling from the furrow the pistol -had traced across his forehead. Then he gave a -great shout:</p> - -<p>“Estelle!” he cried. “Estelle! Damme! It’s -Estelle.” He paused, staring. Then he laughed -hoarsely. “Plucky, too!” he cried. “A true Telfair, -fit mate for a man.” He flung out his hands. -“To me! Little one!” he cried. “To me! I -liked you when I saw you first. But now—By God! -You’re a Valkyrie, a Boadicea. To think of your -daring to fight with me. You! A woman and a hop-o’-my -thumb. By God! I love you for it. Come -to me.” He stumbled forward.</p> - -<p>Alagwa sprang away. As she did so her hand -touched the powder-horn that had clung to her belt<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span> -through all that furious encounter. Her bullet-pouch, -too, was in place. Lithely she dodged -Brito’s rush, and as he blundered past she poured -a charge of powder into the mouth of her pistol -and rammed home the wad.</p> - -<p>Brito saw and read her motion. The man’s pluck -was good, for he lurched toward her, laughing. -“No! No! No! Estelle!” he cried. “Don’t shoot! -You’ve lost one kinsman already”—he glanced towards -Jack’s silent form—“and you can’t afford to -lose another. Come! Lady! Cousin! Come to me. -I’ll take you to England. I’ll make you queen of -them all”—He broke off. Alagwa had forced -home the bullet and had primed the pan. Now she -raised the pistol.</p> - -<p>Brito saw it and changed his note. “D— you, -you hussy!” he yelled. “I’ll choke——”</p> - -<p>The pistol roared and he reeled back, clutching -at his side. Then he crashed down.</p> - -<p>For an instant Alagwa stared at him, noting the -red stain that was widening on his shirt beneath the -heart. Then she let the pistol fall and turned away. -Staggeringly she made her way to Jack’s side and -sank down beside him. Into his torn hunting shirt -she slipped her hand till it lay above his heart.</p> - -<p>No faintest throb rewarded her. No quiver of -lip or eye negatived the red wound upon his brow. -Silently her head fell forward. It was all over. -Jack was dead. Without a gasp hope died.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_194.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">ALAGWA SHOOTS CAPTAIN BRITO</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap2">LONG Alagwa sat, staring into the face of her -dead. She knew now, for once and ever -more that he was her dead, hers, hers, hers -alone. A week before she had not known that he -existed. Four days before she had thought she -hated him for the woe his people had inflicted upon -hers. Two days before she had offered to fight -with him to the death, but she had told herself that -she had done this because he was facing her foes -as well as his. Now, only a moment before, she had -shot down her British kinsman, the ally of her people, -in vengeance for his death. In dull wonder -her thoughts traversed step by step the path that -had brought her to this end, until in one blinding -flash of enlightenment, she read her own soul. He -was hers, her mate, created for her by Gitchemanitou -the Mighty, foreordained for her in the -dim chaos out of which the world was shaped.</p> - -<p>And he was dead! He had never known her for -what she was, had never thought to call her wife. -To him she had been a comrade only, not bone of -his bone and flesh of his flesh. And yet she knew -that he had held her dear; day by day she had -felt that he was holding her dearer and dearer. If -she had been granted time——</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span>But she had not been granted time, for he was -dead. And she was left desolate. She could not -even follow him to the Happy Hunting Grounds, -for they were for men, not women.</p> - -<p>Suddenly a thought came to her. She remembered -that she was dressed as a boy and that her -costume had deceived all the men who had seen her. -Might she not deceive also the guardians who waited -at the entrance of the trail that led to the Hunting -Grounds? If she faced them boldly, manfully, -as a warrior should, might she not win her way -past them to Jack’s side? There would be no sharp-eyed -women there to spy her out, and once within -she would stay forever. Never by word or by sign -would she betray herself; always she would remain -Jack’s little comrade. No one would ever guess.</p> - -<p>She would try it. Her hand dropped to her belt -and closed on the slender hilt of the hunting knife -that hung there. Then it slowly fell away.</p> - -<p>Before she played the man and started on the -long, dark trail, she would be very woman. The -moments that life had denied her, that the Happy -Hunting Grounds might ever deny her, she would -steal now, now, from the cold hand of death himself.</p> - -<p>Desperately she searched the features of her -dead. They were pinched and pallid with the awful -pallor of death. Lower and lower she bent, yearning -over him, more of the mother than of the sweetheart -in her mien. Gently she kissed his forehead,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span> -his eyelids, his cheeks, his firm, bold mouth, taking -toll where she would, bride’s kiss and widow’s kiss -in one. Again and again she pressed her warm -lips to his till beneath her caress they seemed to -warm, reddening to tints of life.</p> - -<p>Suddenly his lips twitched and his eyes opened. -“Bob!” he muttered. Then once more his eyelids -drooped.</p> - -<p>Alagwa screamed, short and sharp. He was not -dead. Jack was not dead. Gitchemanitou the -Mighty had given him back to her. Hers it was to -keep him.</p> - -<p>Gently she laid his head upon the ground and -sprang up. One of Cato’s pans lay close at hand; -she snatched it and raced to the river down the -protected way dug seventeen years before by General -Wayne.</p> - -<p>Soon she was back, bringing a mass of sopping -water plants. Over the red wound on Jack’s forehead -she bound them.</p> - -<p>Under her touch Jack’s eyes reopened. But they -did not meet her anxious gaze; they rolled helplessly, -uncontrolled by his will. His lips formed -words, but they were thick and harsh. “Where—where—No, -he’s killed. I—saw—him—fall. He—he—Bob! -Bob!” His voice ran up in a shriek.</p> - -<p>Alagwa bent till her face almost touched his. -“I’m here, Jack,” she breathed. “Can’t you see -me?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span>The lad’s eyes snapped into focus. For an instant -they brightened with recognition; then they -fell away. But he had recognized her. “I thought -you—were dead,” he muttered. “I saw you fall. -I—I tried to kill him for that—more than for all -else. But—but——” his words wandered.</p> - -<p>The color flowed into Alagwa’s cheeks. Her eyes -were very soft. “I thought you were dead, too,” -she murmured. “But we are both alive—both -alive!” Her voice thrilled with wonder.</p> - -<p>Jack’s fingers fumbled till they found the girl’s -free hand and closed upon it. “You’ve been a bully -little comrade,” he muttered. “Bully little comrade! -Bully little com——” His voice died weakly -away. His eyes closed for a moment, then opened -again. “Cato?” he questioned.</p> - -<p>Alagwa straightened. She had forgotten Cato -since she had seen him go down beneath the Indian’s -tomahawk. Anxiously she looked about her. Then, -abruptly, she started, stiffening like a wild thing at -sight of the hunter.</p> - -<p>Not a score of feet away sat Brito, clutching his -wounded side, glaring at her with blood-shot eyes. -Her hand fell to the knife in her belt, and she -gathered her feet beneath her, every muscle tense, -ready to spring.</p> - -<p>For a moment the picture held, then Jack’s -fingers tightened on her other hand, holding her -back.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span>“What is it? What is it?” he mumbled, -piteously. “What is it?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing. It’s nothing!” Alagwa’s voice was -low and soothing. Brito seemed severely wounded. -He was not attempting to approach. Perhaps he -could not. She leaned forward slightly, so as to -cut off Jack’s line of sight. He must not know. -Not till the last possible moment must he know. -Forward she leaned, features rigid, teeth locked behind -set jaws, nostrils distended, staring Brito in -the face.</p> - -<p>The Englishman tried to meet her eyes but his -own dropped. He tried to rise, but his strength -failed him. Then he began to edge himself backward, -eyes fixed on the girl. Soon he reached the -glacis and dragged himself slowly up it. At the -top he paused, a momentary flash of his former -spirit burning in his eyes.</p> - -<p>“Bravo! Little one!” he faltered, so feebly that -the girl could scarcely hear the words, “Bravo! -You’re a true Telfair. I wanted you before for -your money. Now I want you for yourself. You’re -mine and I’ll have you. I’ll have you, understand? -Sooner or later I’ll have you. Remember!” His -clutch upon the crest of the glacis loosened and he -slipped out of sight.</p> - -<p>Alagwa stared at the spot where he had vanished, -listening to the thudding of the soft earth into the -ditch beneath him. Toward what refuge he was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span> -striving she did not know, but she was sure that he -could not reach it on his own feet. If all of his -party were slain, and she did not doubt that they -were, he could escape only by water. Both the -Auglaize and the Maumee below the fort were -navigable for small boats, and if Brito and his comrades -had come in one, he might regain it and float -down the Maumee, possibly to safety.</p> - -<p>Should she let him go? No pity was in her heart. -The frontier was grim; it translated itself into -primitive emotions, taking no account of the shadings -of civilization or of the blending of good and -evil that inheres in every man. Those brought up -amid its environment hated their enemies and loved -their friends; they took no middle course. Brito -was an enemy and Alagwa hated him. All her life -she had been taught to let no wounded enemy escape. -Brief had been her acquaintance with the Englishman, -but it had been long enough to show her what -manner of man he was. Should she let him go to -come back again, perhaps to destroy the thread -of life that still remained in the helpless man by her -side. Or should she finish the work she had begun -and make Jack safe against at least this deadly foe. -Feverishly she fingered the hilt of her knife.</p> - -<p>As she hesitated Jack’s plaintive voice came -again. “Who’s talking” he mumbled. “I—I -can’t see. I can’t think. I—I—Bob! Bob!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span>“I’m here, Jack!” Alagwa’s fingers tightened -upon his.</p> - -<p>Over the lad’s face came a look of peace. “Something’s -happened to me,” he breathed. “But you’ll -stay with me, won’t you, Bob?”</p> - -<p>“Yes! Yes! I’ll stay with you. Don’t fear. -I’ll never leave you.”</p> - -<p>“Good.... I—I seem weak somehow. Did -somebody hit me?... I want to get up. I -must get up. Help me.” The lad caught at her -arm and tried to pull himself up.</p> - -<p>Alagwa did not hesitate. She was sure that, for -a time at least, he would far better lie flat upon -the ground. “Don’t get up!” she commanded. -“Lie still. You have been wounded. Very nearly -have you taken the dark trail to the Land of the -Hereafter. You must lie still.” Her voice was -imperative.</p> - -<p>Jack yielded to it. “All right!” he sighed. -“But—But I want Cato.”</p> - -<p>Once more Alagwa remembered the negro. She -stood up and looked about her.</p> - -<p>The dawn was long past. The sun had risen -above the tree tops and was flooding the fort with -yellow glory, making plain the havoc that the brief -fight had wrought, searching out the tumbled dead -and crowning their broken forms with pitiful gold. -Prone they lay, grotesquely tossed, grim with the -majesty of death. Round them life bourgeoned,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span> -careless of their fate. The waters rippled, the wind -whispered overhead, the birds chorused in the tree -tops, the jewelled flies, already gathering, buzzed -in the glowing air. Far down the Maumee, on the -sunlit water, a black spot shaped itself for a moment, -and then was gone. Alagwa saw it and guessed -that it was Captain Brito and his boat.</p> - -<p>Cato was lying face down where he had fallen. -Across his body lay that of the warrior who had -stricken him down. Close at hand lay two other -braves, their well-oiled bodies and shaven heads -glistening in the sun. Alagwa did not even look at -them; they were not friends—they were outlaws—outlaws -suborned by Brito to attack Jack because he -had been in search of her. The Shawnees were still -her friends—she was still true to Tecumseh. But -these were private foes. She had been trained in a -hard school and their deaths affected her no more -than would those of so many wild beasts.</p> - -<p>She bent over Cato. His posture, to her trained -eyes, spoke eloquently of death. Nevertheless, she -would see. Panting, for the fight had torn open the -half-healed wound upon her leg, she dragged the -dead Indian away and gently fingered the long, broad -gash that ran across the negro’s head. Blood from -it had stiffened his wool into a mat of gore. The -hatchet had struck slantingly or had been deflected, -but it had cut deep. Never had Alagwa seen such -a wound upon the head of a living man. Sorrowfully<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span> -she stared at it, for Cato had been kind to her. -At last, hopelessly but determinedly she rolled his -body over and placed her hand above his heart.</p> - -<p>It was beating, slowly but strongly.</p> - -<p>Amazed, the girl sprang up. Heedless of her injured -leg she raced to the river and back again and -poured the cooling water on his head, washing away -the blood that had run down his forehead and had -filled his eyes.</p> - -<p>Instantly Cato gasped and groaned. “Here! -You Mandy,” he protested. “You quit dat! Don’t -you go flingin’ no more of Mars’ Telfair’s plates at -me. Massa ain’t gwine to stand havin’ his plates -busted that a-way, no, he ain’t, not by no nigger -living. You hear me.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa heard but she did not understand. The -negro accent and forms of speech were still partly -beyond her. But she knew that Cato was alive and -she dashed what was left of the water into his blood-streaked -face.</p> - -<p>The shock completed her work. Intelligence -snapped back into the negro’s eyes and he sat up. -“Lord! Massa!” he cried. “What’s done happen? -Whar dem Injuns go? Whar’s Mars’ Jack?”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Jack’s badly hurt. Very near he go to die. -But Gitchemanitou save him. You are wounded, -too. I thought you were dead.”</p> - -<p>Cato fingered the cut upon his head. Then he -grinned. “Lord!” he exclaimed. “Dat Injun<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span> -oughter knowed better than to hit a nigger on the -head. But”—his grin faded—“but whar Mars’ -Jack?”</p> - -<p>“Over yonder!” Alagwa gestured with her head. -“But wait. Let me wash and bind up your head. -Sit still.”</p> - -<p>Much against his will Cato waited while the girl’s -deft fingers washed away the caked blood and bound -a poultice of healing leaves across the gaping cut. -Then he took the hand that she offered and -scrambled to his feet and tried to make his way to -Jack’s recumbent form.</p> - -<p>But at the first step he limped and groaned. -“Lord!” he muttered. “I done bust my feet mighty -bad somehow. But I gwine to git to Mars’ Jack. -Yes, suh, I certainly am.”</p> - -<p>With many groans he made his way across the -ground to Jack’s side. “Mars’ Jack! Mars’ -Jack!” he cried. “You ain’t dead, is you?”</p> - -<p>The sound of his voice roused Jack and he opened -his eyes. Thankfully Alagwa saw that he made no -attempt to rise. “Hello, Cato!” he mumbled. “Is -that you? No, I’m not dead. I’m all right. How -about you, Cato?”</p> - -<p>“I’se all right, Mars’ Jack, ’cep’n that my feet -hurts mighty bad. Dat Injun hit me a whack over -the head, and that hurts. But seems like my feet -hurts wusser.”</p> - -<p>Jack’s eyes twinkled. “You must have been<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span> -standing on a stone when that Indian hit you over -the head,” he said. “I reckon he drove your feet -down on the stone mighty hard.”</p> - -<p>Jack laughed weakly. Then suddenly an expression -of terror came into his face and his whole form -seemed to shrink and crumble. When Alagwa -reached his side he was unconscious.</p> - -<p>Long but vainly the girl worked over him. He -did not revive and an icy cold hand seemed to close -about her heart.</p> - -<p>From her childhood she had been familiar with -wounds. With the Shawnees, as with most other -Indians, it was a point of honor to leave no wounded -friend upon the battlefield. At whatever cost, for -whatever distance, they brought home all who survived -the sharp deadly struggles of the day. Not -once but many times Alagwa had bound up wounds -and had cared for injured warriors. Jack’s condition -had not at first seemed strange to her. She -had supposed him only dazed from the blow he had -received and needing only a brief rest to regain his -strength. But now, abruptly, there flashed into her -mind the memory of two warriors, brought home -from a foray, who bore no visible wounds but who -were yet wrecked in body and in mind. Like Jack -they had been struck upon the head. Like him they -had revived and had seemed to be gathering -strength. Then abruptly they had collapsed and -had lain feebly quiescent, dazed, with wandering lips<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span> -and eyes, for weeks and months before they died. -She did not know what the white men called this, -but she knew the thing itself.</p> - -<p>Was Jack to be like this? It could not be! -Passionately her heart cried out against it. And -yet—and yet—even thus she was glad, glad, that -Gitchemanitou had given him back to her. Only let -him live, let him live, and——</p> - -<p>But he could not live where he was. The ruined -fort was a point of extreme danger. One war party -bound for the north had already passed it on their -way down the Auglaize, and at any moment another -might follow. None would pass the ruins of the -ancient fort without visiting it, even if no sign of -the recent struggle were visible from the water or -from the trail along the bank. If Jack was to be -ill for a long time, she must get him back to Fort -Wayne.</p> - -<p>And she must do it all. Cato was a splendid servant -but useless so far as initiative was concerned. -On her and her alone the responsibility must rest. -Desperately she looked around, seeking inspiration.</p> - -<p>While she had worked over Jack the sun had -mounted higher and higher. The tall forest trees -that ringed the clearing shimmered in the golden -downpour, the fretted tracery of their branches -quivering against the burnished vault of the sky. -The forest creatures had grown used to the presence -of men and were going about the business of their<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span> -lives unafraid. A huge red squirrel scurried up one -of the few remaining palisades of the ancient circuit -and sat upon its top, chattering. The water -in the river rippled incessantly as fish or turtle or -snake came and went. Great bullfrogs croaked on -the banks. From every tuft of grass and every rock -and log rose the shrill stridulation of insects. -Gorgeous butterflies in black and gold and white -fluttered about the stricken field. The mule and the -two horses were uninjured and were cropping the -sweet grass, heedless of the fate that had overtaken -their masters.</p> - -<p>But more than horses was needed. Jack could -not ride and even if he could cling to the saddle he -would do so at the peril of his life.</p> - -<p>There was nothing to do but to make a travois—a -structure of dragging poles by which the Indians -transported their sick and wounded, their tents, and -household goods. Calling Cato to saddle the horses, -she picked up the hatchet that had split the negro’s -scalp, and hurried out of the fort to return a moment -later with two long straight poles. These, -with Cato’s help, she firmly bound, butt up, on either -side of her horse, which she knew to be the gentler -of the two, then lashed together the long flexible -ends that trailed out behind. Backward and forward, -across the angle between, she wove the rope -that had bound the pack. Upon this network she -fastened blankets till the whole had become a sort<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span> -of pointed hammock, with sloping flexible sides, one -end of which rested on the ground while the other -sloped upward ending well out of reach of the horse’s -heels. By the time she had finished Cato had packed -the camp equipment on the back of the mule.</p> - -<p>With some difficulty the two dragged Jack upon -the travois. Then Alagwa took the bridle of the -horse.</p> - -<p>“I lead,” she said. “You ride other horse.”</p> - -<p>Willingly the negro climbed to the saddle. “I’se -mighty glad to,” he declared, gratefully. “Lor’, -Massa, if you knowed how my feet hurt! I reckon -Mars’ Jack was right. I must ha’ been standin’ -on a rock.”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Four days later—for it took twice as long to go -from Fort Defiance to Fort Wayne as it had taken -to go from Fort Wayne to Defiance—Alagwa stood -in Peter Bondie’s house in the room that had served -her for a night, watching with dumb fear-filled eyes -as the surgeon from the fort straightened up from -his long inspection of Jack’s exhausted form.</p> - -<p>“Concussion of the brain,” he said, at last. -“He’ll get well, but he’ll be ill for weeks and -probably for months.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE drama of the war was unfolding. The -first act was filled with martial music and -with the tramp of armed men marching -northward to wrest from the British king the remainder -of his great American empire and to extend -the bounds of the United States to the foot of the -aurora borealis. War had been declared in the middle -of June and the late summer of 1812 saw three -armies afoot, one at the western end of Lake Erie, -one at Niagara, and one on Lake Champlain.</p> - -<p>The first clash of arms came in the west. Burning -with zeal, General Hull and his soldiers cut a -road through the Black Swamp, occupied Detroit, -and early in July crossed into Canada. The country -rang with the news of their triumphant advance. -The country did not realize, though it was soon -to do so, that for years the British in Canada had -been providing against this very eventuality, and -had been building a red bulwark against attack. -For years they had been winning the good will of the -Indians with presents, had been cajoling them with -soft words, and had been providing them with arms -and ammunition. And when the war came they had -their reward. While Hull was marching so gaily -forward thousands of savages were closing in behind<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span> -him, surrounding him with a red cordon that -he was never to break. At first they moved slowly, -lacking a white leader. Soon they were to find one -in General Brock and the Americans were to realize -too late that they had to meet not merely a handful -of British and Canadians but a horde of the -fiercest foes that any land could produce, some of -whom, like Tecumseh, hoped to establish an Indian -kingdom whose barriers would hold back the Americans -forever, but most of whom fought merely for -the spoils of war, secure in the British promise to -give them a free hand and to protect them against -any ultimate vengeance like that which had befallen -them when they had risen in the past.</p> - -<p>All this, however, lay in the womb of the future -in July and early August, when Jack was slowly -fighting his way back to health. The wound on his -head healed rapidly, disappearing even before that -on Cato’s thick skull, and by the first of August he -had recovered much of his physical strength though -little of his mental powers. One day he would look -out upon the world with sane eyes, gladdening -Alagwa’s sore heart with the hope that her vigil -was nearing its end; the next day some trifle, some -slight excitement, even some memory, would strike -him down, and for days he would toss in delirium -or lie in a state of coma that seemed like death -itself. It needed all the cheeriness that Fantine -could muster and all the assurances that Major<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span> -Stickney and Captain Wells could offer to sustain -the girl’s hope that he would ever be himself again.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile information that the war was not -going well for the Americans began to trickle in to -Fort Wayne or, rather, to the white men adjacent -to it who enjoyed the confidence of the Indians.</p> - -<p>Owing to his Miami wife, Peter Bondie’s affiliations -with the Indians were close and he received -early news of all that took place at the front. Before -any one else at Fort Wayne he knew that -Hull had been driven back from Canada to Detroit. -He learned almost instantly when Hull’s lines of -communication were broken and the small force -that was bringing cattle and other food to his aid -was halted at the River Raisin, and he was kept -well informed as the lines about Hull himself grew -closer and closer. Lieutenant Hibbs and the garrison -at the fort, meanwhile, seemed to dwell in a -fool’s paradise.</p> - -<p>The first publicly admitted news that all was -not going well was that of the surrender of the -fifty-seven men who garrisoned Fort Michilimackinac, -far to the northward. This, however, -made little impression. Fort Michilimackinac was -unimportant and was isolated; its surrender -amounted to nothing. The next day, however, word -was received from General Hull that Fort Dearborn, -one hundred and fifty miles to the west, on the site -where Chicago now stands, was to be evacuated.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span> -Lieutenant Hibbs was instructed to consult with -Major Stickney and Captain Wells and to devise -some means by which the order could be safely -transmitted and the garrison safely withdrawn. -The next day Captain Wells, with one white man -and thirty-five supposedly friendly Miami Indians, -set out for Fort Dearborn to carry the orders. -Even this, however, did not disturb the optimism -that ruled in the fort. Dearborn, like Michilimackinac, -was isolated and unimportant.</p> - -<p>The first news of the British and Indian successes, -slight though they were, bewildered Alagwa. In -vain she assured herself that she ought to rejoice. -Her friends were winning. They were driving back -the braggart Americans. They were regaining all -that the slow years had stolen from them. Tecumseh’s -drama of a great Indian kingdom would come -true. She ought to be glad! glad! glad!</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, her heart sank lower and lower. -She could not understand why this should be so. -She was no friend to the Americans, she told herself. -She loved Jack, but she hated his people. -She was still an ally to the Shawnees and to the -British. She hoped, hoped, hoped that they would -overwhelm the Americans and drive them back forever. -But still the pain at her heart grew sharper -and sharper.</p> - -<p>Moreover her own actions began to trouble her. -No longer could she keep up the fiction that she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span> -was a prisoner. Prisoners do not bring their captors -back to the jail from which they have escaped. -Moreover she had conspired against this very fort, -under whose protecting walls she had sought refuge -for herself and Jack. Gloze the fact over as she -might she could not wholly put away the thought -that her acts were both treacherous and ungrateful. -Throughout July she had seen nothing of the runner -and had heard no word to tell that Tecumseh -had received her message or had acted upon it. -None of the Miamis, who lived in the vicinity, had -approached her with any word from the Shawnee -chieftain. Early in August, however, Metea, chief -of the Pottawatomies, who lived a little to the west, -sought her out and gave her to understand that he -knew who she was and to assure her that any message -she wished to send to Tecumseh would be transmitted.</p> - -<p>“Metea goes to Yondotia (Detroit),” he said. -“Even now his moccasins are on his feet and his -tomahawk in his belt. Has the white maiden any -word to send.”</p> - -<p>His words struck Alagwa with a panic which she -found herself unable to conceal. Falteringly she -declared that she had no word to send other than -that she was faithful to the redmen’s cause and -would help it all she could. She did not repeat her -message about the scarcity of powder at the fort. -When Metea had gone she hid herself and wept.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span>The next day, however, Jack took a sudden turn -for the better, and the girl’s joy in his improvement -drove all misgivings from her mind.</p> - -<p>Once it had begun Jack’s improvement grew -apace. A week went by without sign of relapse. -His eyes shone with the light of reason; his voice -grew smooth; his figure straightened; almost he -seemed himself again. The surgeon from the fort, -however, still counselled caution.</p> - -<p>With returning strength the lad began to fret -about the failure of his mission to the northwest and -to declare that he must be off to Detroit in search -of his cousin. In vain Alagwa urged upon him that -he must be fully restored to health before he attempted -to exert himself, and in vain the surgeon -warned him that any sudden stress, either mental -or physical, was likely to bring about a relapse. -Jack felt well and strong and chafed bitterly at his -inaction.</p> - -<p>One day, a little past the middle of August, he -and Alagwa (with Cato hovering in the background) -sought temporary refuge from the heat beneath -the great tree before the door of the hotel—the tree -whence Alagwa had sounded the call of the whip-poor-will -on that June night nearly two months before.</p> - -<p>August had worked its merciless will on the land. -The bare ground was baked and hard beaten and -the turf was dry as powder. The brooks that had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span> -wandered across the prairie to join the Maumee -were all waterless. The air was heavy; not a breath -of wind was stirring. Overhead the sky quivered, -glittering like a great brazen bowl. Inside the -hotel the heat was unbearable, but beneath the tree -some respite could be gained.</p> - -<p>Jack was talking of the one topic that engrossed -his thoughts in those days.</p> - -<p>“Think of myself!” he echoed, to Alagwa’s -pleadings. “I’ve thought of myself too long! I’ve -got to think of that poor girl now. What in God’s -name has become of her while I have been chasing -shadows. First I let Williams make a fool of me -and lead me out of my way. Then I make a fool -of myself by camping for the night in the most -dangerous place in all the northwest—and get my -silly head beaten in to pay for it. And now I’m -lying here idle while she—Good God! Where is she -and what is she doing?”</p> - -<p>Alagwa said nothing. She knew that by one -word she could end Jack’s anxiety, and again and -again she had tried to utter it. But always it died -unspoken upon her lips. If Jack persisted in periling -his life by starting out too soon, and if she -could stop him only by confessing her secret, she -would confess it. But she would not do so till the -last possible moment.</p> - -<p>Jack jumped to his feet. “And where’s Rogers?” -he demanded. “What’s become of him? I told him<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span> -to report to me from time to time. By heavens, I -won’t wait here much longer! I’m well now, and if -that fool doctor doesn’t pretty soon say I can start, -I’ll start without his permission. He didn’t do anything -for me, anyhow. It was you who saved my -life”—he turned on the girl—“it was you. You -bully little pal, you.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa looked down. Jack’s voice had a note of -tenderness that she had not heard before.</p> - -<p>“Yes! It was you,” he went on. “You’re a -hero, whether you know it or not. You won’t tell -me much about what happened after Brito struck -me down, but Cato’s told me a lot. And apart from -that you’ve nursed me like a little brick. No woman -could have been more tender. And I won’t forget -it.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa’s heart was singing. She dared not raise -her head, lest Jack should see the love light shining -in her eyes and guess her secret. Persistently she -looked down.</p> - -<p>Then suddenly she heard Jack’s voice, in quite a -new note. “By George!” he cried. “There comes -Rogers.”</p> - -<p>Over the dusty road from the fort the old man -came trotting. When he saw the light of reason -in Jack’s eyes his own lighted. “Dog my cats!” -he cried. “But I’m plumb glad to see you, Jack. -I been a-lookin’ for you all up and down the Maumee -and I never got a smell of you till I met that skunk<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span> -Williams just now and he told me you was plumb -crazy. Lord! Lord! How people do like to lie. -If they wouldn’t talk so much they wouldn’t lie -so much and——”</p> - -<p>Jack interrupted. He was eager to divert the -old man to the missing girl.</p> - -<p>Rogers was entirely willing to be diverted. He -did not care what he talked about so long as he -talked.</p> - -<p>“I ain’t got any news of her,” he declared. -“She’s plumb disappeared. She ain’t nowhere about -Wapakoneta; that’s certain. I reckon she’s gone -north, and if you ask me I reckon she’s gone with -that big cuss in the red coat. He’s the sort that -takes the eyes of the girls. You were right in -’s’posing that he didn’t go north as soon as Colonel -Johnson thought he did. He didn’t go till a day -or two before I got to Girty’s Town, an’ maybe -he didn’t go then. But he’s gone now.”</p> - -<p>Rogers stopped to take breath and Jack nodded. -In telling the tale of the attack at Fort Defiance -Alagwa had said nothing about Brito or his part -in the fight, and Jack had followed her example. -After all, the affair was a family one and he saw -no need of taking the people at Fort Wayne into -his confidence. Even now he merely accepted -Rogers’s opinion and did not inform him that he -knew very well indeed the time at which Brito had -left the headwaters of the Auglaize.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span>Rogers, indeed, gave him little chance to say -anything. Vigorously he rattled on. “There’s a -letter coming from Piqua for you,” he said. “I -reckon it’s from your home folks. I saw it there -and I’d a-brung it, but I wasn’t certain that I was -coming here when I left. I guess it’ll get here tonight -on a wagon that’s coming. I guess it’s from -your sweetheart.”</p> - -<p>Jack’s face had lighted up at the old man’s mention -of a letter, but it clouded slightly at his last -words. “Not from a sweetheart, no,” he declared. -“I have no sweetheart. I shall never marry!”</p> - -<p>“Sho! You don’t tell me!” Rogers’s eyes -twinkled incredulously. “Well! You got time -enough to change your mind. You ain’t like me. -I got to hurry. I don’t want to deceive you none, -so I’ll own up that I ain’t as young as I was once.” -He glanced out of the corners of his eyes and saw -Fantine coming from the hotel toward the party. -Instantly he raised his voice and went on.</p> - -<p>“If I could find a nice woman, somebody that’s -big enough to balance a little shaver like me, I -reckon I’d fall plumb hard in love with her,” he declared. -“You don’t know no such a woman round -about here, do you now, Jack?”</p> - -<p>Jack did not answer, for Fantine had come up. -“Bon jour, M. Rogers,” she cried. “You have -been away long, n’est ce pas? What do you talk -about, eh?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span>Rogers grinned at her. “Oh! We was talking -about gettin’ married,” he declared brazenly. -“Jack here was saying he was never goin’ to -marry.”</p> - -<p>Fantine glanced swiftly at Jack. Then out of -the corner of her eye she searched Alagwa’s face. -“Oh! La! La!” she cried. “These men! Truly -they all of a muchness. When they are young they -all run after a pretty face and if they lose it they -think the world stops. Later they know better. -M. Jack will seek a bride some day. And when you -do, M. Jack, see that you choose one who will -stand at your side when you face the peril, one who -will draw the sword and pistol to defend you. Do -not choose some fair lady who will faint at the sight -of blood and leave you to your foes. That goes not -on the frontier. Do I not know it, me?”</p> - -<p>Jack stared. There was a note in the voice of -the light-hearted French woman that he had never -heard before. For a moment it bewildered him. -Then he laughed.</p> - -<p>“Oh! No! No!” he cried. “I want no such -bride as that. You have described a friend, a comrade—yes, -that’s it, a good comrade—like my little -Bob here.” He glanced at Alagwa affectionately, -but she had bowed her face, and he could not see -it. “But I would not choose such a one for a -bride,” he went on. “I would never marry such a -comrade, brave and helpful though she might be.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span> -If I ever marry, I shall marry some sweet gentle -lady who never saw the frontier, who knows nothing -of war, who has tread no rougher measures than -those of the minuet. I want a bride whom I can -shield from the world, not a mannish creature who -can protect me. I want—Good Lord! What’s the -matter?”</p> - -<p>Alagwa had sprung to her feet, gasping. For -a moment she stood; then she turned and fled to the -house. Fantine glared at Jack; her lips moved but -no sound came from them. For once, the situation -was beyond her. With a hopeless gesture she followed -the girl. Rogers stood staring.</p> - -<p>Jack caught at Cato’s shoulder and scrambled to -his feet, his face was white. “What—what—what”—he -babbled. “Good Lord! What——”</p> - -<p>Half way to the hotel Fantine turned. She had -remembered Jack’s condition. “Nom d’un nom!” -she cried. “Sit you down, M. Jack. It is nothing, -nothing. It—is the heat. Never have I seen its -like. The boy is overwrought. I will calm him. -Sit you down! Do you want to fall ill again?”</p> - -<p>Jack sat down, not because Fantine’s words satisfied -him, but because his strength was failing. He -leaned against the tree, staring at the house into -which Alagwa had disappeared.</p> - -<p>At last he looked up at Rogers and Cato. “I -don’t understand,” he muttered. “I’ve hurt Bob<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span> -some way. But how? I wouldn’t hurt him for the -world. How did I do it? How did I do it?” Heedless -of the others’ bewildered answers he babbled on, -wonderingly.</p> - -<p>After a while he got up and went slowly to his -room and lay down. An hour later, when Alagwa -remorsefully sought him, he was sleeping heavily. -Frightened lest this might mean a relapse, but not -daring to awake him, the girl stole out of the room -and joined the others at the table.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">EXCEPT for Jack and his party the Maison -Bondie was entirely bare of guests. The -wagoners who made the place their home during -their periodic visits to Fort Wayne had that very -morning driven away to the south. Others would -soon arrive, probably on the morrow, but until they -came the Bondies were alone. Rogers had gone, presumably -to the fort. Fantine had been busy comforting -Alagwa, and when she remembered him he -had disappeared.</p> - -<p>Perhaps it was as well, for as Fantine and Alagwa -and Peter’s Miami wife sat down to supper Peter -came hurrying in, bringing news that destroyed the -tastefulness even of Fantine’s cooking.</p> - -<p>Captain Wells and Captain Heald and the entire -garrison of Fort Dearborn had been massacred. -The news had just reached the Miami village. It -had not yet reached the fort or any white man connected -with the garrison—not even Major Stickney -or the priest at the Catholic church—and probably -would not reach them until the morrow. But it was -not to be doubted. The thirty-five Miamis who had -gone with Captain Wells to help in the evacuation -of Fort Dearborn were all back at their homes. But -the white men had perished.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span>With bated breath the Bondies discussed the massacre. -They all knew Captain Wells; the Bondies -had known him for twenty years and Alagwa for a -few weeks only, but they all loved him. Forty years -before, when a boy, he had been captured by the -Miami Indians, had been brought up with them, and -had married a Miami woman, the daughter of a -chief. Later he had become interpreter and agent -for the United States and was supposed to be in -high favor with the Indians of all tribes. None of -his associations, however, had availed to save him. -Where would the blow fall next? Peter Bondie -strove to console himself with the fact that the -Miamis, who lived close at hand, were his sworn -friends, and that the killing had been done by the -Pottawatomies, whose homes were a hundred miles -to the west, though many of them were always to -be seen at and near Fort Wayne. But the consolation -was rapidly losing its force.</p> - -<p>Peter and Fantine were debating whether Peter -should at once seek Major Stickney, who was ill -with ague, and tell him the news or should wait till -the morrow, when the Miamis who had accompanied -Captain Wells would be ready to make formal report. -Alagwa sat silent, troubled over the news, -but thinking more of Jack’s words of the afternoon -than she did of the possible consequences of the -massacre.</p> - -<p>Abruptly a shadow darkened the door and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span> -through it, into the room, stepped Metea. Offering -no explanation of his presence nor of his absence -for the past two weeks he sat down at the table and -began to devour the food which Peter’s Miami wife -placed before him. When at last he had finished he -stood up.</p> - -<p>“Behold,” he said, “my moccasins are worn with -much travel. I come quickly from Yondotia (Detroit). -I bring great news. The American chief -and all his men have surrendered. He was a coward. -When the red man shook his tomahawk he fell down -and cried out. Over Yondotia now flies the flag of -the white father who lives across the great water.”</p> - -<p>No one spoke. The news from Fort Dearborn -had been stirring but this from Detroit was overwhelming, -both in its immensity and in the consequences -it portended. The Bondies, Alagwa, and -even Metea himself had come, through many years’ -experience, to look upon the Americans as foes -who fought to the death and who, even when conquered, -took bitter toll of those who slew them. -That Captain Heald and his garrison had been -massacred was terrifying but not altogether amazing, -for he was outnumbered and isolated. But that -an army larger than any that had ever before been -mustered in the northwest should have surrendered -tamely, without a blow, seemed incredible. If it -were true—and none questioned it—it would mean<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span> -the destruction of American prestige and the rallying -of thousands of savages to the British standard.</p> - -<p>Metea voiced the situation. “The white men are -women. They have talked much and have pretended -to be great chiefs and the red man has believed them. -But now he knows. They are women. At Yondotia -they begged the redcoats to save them from the -wrath of the red men. It was the red men who -conquered and they will conquer again.”</p> - -<p>Metea spoke the truth, though it was left to a -later day to recognize it. All the early disasters of -the war to the American arms were due not to the -prowess of the British nor of the Indians, but to -the fear of massacre. Hull’s surrender was not to -actual foes but to possible ones, not to the threat -of civilized warfare but to that of torture and murder -by foes that kept no faith with the vanquished -and that spared neither men nor women nor babes at -the breast. “Surrender! If I have to attack I -will not be able to restrain the fury of the Indians,” -was in substance the message that brought about -Hicks’s capitulation at Mackinaw, Heald’s massacre -at Fort Dearborn, and Hull’s shameful surrender -at Detroit. Hull was old, his communications -were broken, he was surrounded by savages -in unknown numbers, and the threat of massacre -terrified him. So he yielded.</p> - -<p>It was cowardly, of course, and unnecessary, too.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span> -The later history of the war and the history of all -later Indian wars proved conclusively that no force -of savages, even when backed by white men, could -capture a fortified place if bravely defended. Even -the little fort on the Sandusky, whose evacuation was -later ordered because to defend it seemed impossible, -was successfully held by a tiny garrison commanded -by a real man against all the combined forces of the -British General Proctor and of Tecumseh. The -British victories in the west early in the war were -won not by fighting but by diplomacy—by “bluff,” -to use the vernacular of a later day.</p> - -<p>Metea had paused and glanced about the room, -awaiting a reply. It did not come and he went on, -his glance lingering on Alagwa.</p> - -<p>“Peter Bondie has ever been the friend of the red -men,” he resumed. “He has taken a squaw from -the Miami tribe. Metea is his friend. Metea is -also the friend of Alagwa, the foster child of -Tecumseh. Therefore he comes to warn him and -her. His peoples’ tomahawks are up. The chief -Winnemac leads them. Already they have slain the -white men in the west. In two days they will be -here. Their tomahawks will fall on the white men, -and when they fall they will spare not. Therefore, -let my brother and all that is his betake themselves -to the south. All this land once belonged to the -red men and it will belong to them again. No white -man, brother though he be to the Indian, shall live<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span> -in it. Let my brother take warning and begone; -and”—he turned to Alagwa—“let my sister prepare -to go to Yondotia. Such is the will of -Tecumseh.”</p> - -<p>The Bondies looked at each other; then they -looked at Alagwa. The imminent loss of all that -they had accumulated was a shock, but Metea’s -words to Alagwa struck them dumb. Fantine, -knowing what she did about the girl, had suspected -that the tie between her and Tecumseh had not been -entirely broken, but Peter was ignorant even of her -sex, and its revelation took his breath away. -Neither he nor Fantine guessed the purpose for -which Alagwa had come into the American lines, -nor in any case would they have greatly reprobated -it, for their associations and sympathies were -largely with the Indians. But the order to her to -join Tecumseh was a bolt out of a clear sky. -Curiously, questioningly, the two stared at her.</p> - -<p>Alagwa, however, was not thinking of herself, but -of Jack. His words that afternoon had cut her to the -heart. But they had not freed her from her obligation -to serve him. She loved him and with her to -love was to give all, without question of return. -Not even at the command of Tecumseh, would she -leave him. Yet she could not defy the will of the -great chief. She must gain time to think and to -plan.</p> - -<p>She looked up and saw Metea’s eyes fixed on her.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span>“At dawn tomorrow my sister will be ready,” he -said.</p> - -<p>At dawn! Alagwa’s heart stood still. She would -have time neither to think nor to plan. Desperately -she cast about for some respite, however brief. “At -dawn!” she echoed. “Why need I go so soon? -Why need I go at all. Will not Tecumseh and the -redcoats come here? It is only the Pottawatomies -who will attack the fort?”</p> - -<p>Metea paused a moment before replying. “The -Pottawatomies are brave,” he said. “They will -surround the fort, cutting off all help from the -south. If a chance offers they will capture it. If -not, they will wait. In one moon their redcoat -brothers will come with the big guns to batter down -the walls. But my sister may not wait for them. -Tecumseh commands her presence now and she must -go. She will have fitting escort. Twenty of my -men wait to attend her.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa’s hope vanished. No way could she see -out of the coil that bound her. “Did Tecumseh -send no word about the young white chief?” she -faltered, desperately.</p> - -<p>Metea shrugged his shoulders. “The young -white chief?” he echoed. “He who slew the -Shawnee braves at Defiance? No, Tecumseh sent -no word! Let the young chief stay where he is. -Soon we will test his courage at the stake and see -if he is a brave man or a coward.” Metea threw<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span> -his blanket about his shoulders and turned to the -door. Then he looked back. “At dawn!” he repeated. -“Let my sister be ready.” He strode -through the opening and disappeared.</p> - -<p>Alagwa sprang to her feet. Her eyes flashed, her -nostrils dilated, her lips curled back as they had -curled when she faced Brito. “You shall not,” she -shrieked to the empty door. “You shall not. Dog -of a Pottawatomie, little do you know Alagwa. I -will not leave him and he shall not die. I will save -him yet.”</p> - -<p>Peter Bondie looked at the girl contemptuously. -“So!” he sneered. “You will not leave him, hein? -You will save him, hein? And how will you save -him? Bah! It is squaw’s talk.”</p> - -<p>“Silence, cochon!” Fantine had risen swiftly to -her feet. Her vast bulk quivered. “Fear not, ma -bebée,” she cried. “We shall save him! He is a -fool and blind, but some day le bon Dieu will open -his eyes. Till then Fantine will protect and save -him and you.” She caught the half-fainting girl -in her arms, and turned upon her brother. -“Scelerat!” she cried. “Know you to whom you -speak? Know you that you address the daughter -of M. Delaroche, the niece of the Count of Telfair, -your liege lady? Down upon your knees, pig, and -beg forgiveness.”</p> - -<p>Peter did not drop upon his knees—he had been<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span> -in America too long—but he changed color and began -to mutter hasty apologies.</p> - -<p>Alagwa scarcely heard him. Confused as leaves -driven before October’s blasts her thoughts fluttered. -Possibility after possibility rose in her mind -only to be swiftly discarded. Her efforts to gain -time had failed. Metea would come for her at dawn. -No doubt his men were watching. She and Jack -might flee that very night—But no! Jack would -not go without explanation. Even if he did go, -his flight and hers would be discovered in the morning -and they would be pursued and Jack would be -killed. He could not withstand twenty men. And -he must not be excited. Besides, he would not go. -Well she knew it. Could she persuade him to take -refuge in the fort? Not without an explanation, -certainly! And the fort would soon be attacked. -She herself had made that certain. It was her message -to Tecumseh that had caused the British to -send their red allies to beleaguer it and cut off all -help and ammunition. Truly her deeds had found -her out.</p> - -<p>What could she do? What <i>could</i> she do? Insistently -her thoughts beat upon the question. And -presently the answer came.</p> - -<p>Jack must be saved. He could be saved only by -saving the fort. Therefore the fort must be saved. -It could not be saved unless its garrison was warned. -Therefore it must be warned.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span>To warn it was to be treacherous to Tecumseh -and to her friends. It was to dig a deathtrap in -the path which she had called them to tread. It was -to set back, perhaps forever, the day on which her -people would regain their ancient power.</p> - -<p>Alagwa knew it. To the last detail she knew it. -And she did not care.</p> - -<p>Jack should not die! Rather let every Shawnee -die! Rather let Tecumseh himself perish! Rather -let the whole Indian nation pass away forever! -Metea’s threat had done its work well, but its effect -had been far different from that which he had intended.</p> - -<p>She sprang to her feet. “Come,” she said. “Let -us go.”</p> - -<p>Bondie stared at her with his little black eyes. -“Go where, madame?” he questioned, respectfully -but wonderingly.</p> - -<p>“To Major Stickney. We must warn him. The -fort must be saved.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE August night was close and still as -Alagwa and Peter Bondie stole out of the -hotel to make their way to Major Stickney’s. -The moon had not yet risen but the great stars that -blazed across the immeasurable vault of the sky -diffused almost as great a light. Fire-flies sparkled -and pale-winged moths, white blots amid the -shadows, fluttered over the dried grass and dusty -trails that crossed the prairie. The hum of mosquitoes -and the ceaseless rune of locusts filled the -air. In the distance the unruffled waters of the -Maumee reflected the stars and the blue-black interstices -of the sky.</p> - -<p>Neither Alagwa nor Bondie, however, was thinking -of the beauty of the night. Carefully they stole -along, moving like dark shadows, every nerve tense, -every faculty of body and mind concentrated, watching -every bush lest it might hide some of the savages -of whom Metea had spoken. Foot by foot they -crept along, using every artifice that years upon -the frontier had taught to Bondie and that life -among the Shawnees had taught to Alagwa.</p> - -<p>Nothing happened, however. Either Metea had -lied about his men or else had not thought it -worth while to set a guard on the hotel, well knowing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span> -that escape was hopeless and not dreaming that -ether Bondie or Alagwa would take the extreme -step of warning the fort.</p> - -<p>Beside the walls of the fort, close to the ford -across the shrunken waters of the Maumee, stood the -United States factory. At one side of it, beneath -a tree, Captain Wells’s Miami wife and his three -children were laughing softly, not knowing that -far to the west their husband and father was lying -dead amid a ring of blood-stained bodies. In front -of the door itself Major Stickney was sitting, striving -to get a breath of fresh air to cool the fever -that racked his body.</p> - -<p>When he saw Alagwa and Bondie his face lighted -up. “Come and sit down,” he called, eagerly, -scrambling to his feet. “Is it hot enough for -you?”</p> - -<p>Neither visitor answered the question. Alagwa -glanced at Bondie, and the Frenchman stepped -closer. “Captain Wells is kill,” he whispered. -“Captain Heald and all the garrison at Fort Dearborn -are kill. Winnemac and his Pottawatomies -have kill them. Perhaps some are prisoners, but I -think it not.”</p> - -<p>Stickney’s fever-flushed face suddenly paled. -“Good God!” he cried. Then with sudden recollection -he gestured toward the woman and children -beneath the tree. “Careful! Careful!” he begged,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span> -tense and low. Then again: “Good God! it can’t -be true. Are you sure?”</p> - -<p>Bondie nodded. “It is true. The news have -just come. Tomorrow Otucka, who lead the Miamis -who went with Captain Wells, will take the news -to the fort. But that is not all. There is worse to -come.”</p> - -<p>Stickney caught at the log wall of the building -before which he stood. “Worse?” he echoed. -“Worse? What worse can there be?”</p> - -<p>Bondie shook his head. “There is much worse,” -he said. “General Hull have play the coward. -He have surrender Detroit and all his men.”</p> - -<p>Stickney stared. Then an expression of relief -came over his face and he laughed. “Oh! Nonsense!” -he exclaimed. “That’s foolishness. Hull -surrender! I guess not. Captain Wells and the -Fort Dearborn garrison might be cut off, but Hull -couldn’t surrender. If the same man told you about -Wells, perhaps he’s safe too. Of course you did -right to bring me the news and I’m grateful. But -it’s all foolishness—just a rumor. Tomorrow we’ll -laugh at it.”</p> - -<p>“It is no rumor. It is all true. Tomorrow it -will be confirm. And even yet that is not all.” -Bondie spoke gravely, apparently minding not at all -Mr. Stickney’s disbelief in his news. “It was -Metea who bring the news from Detroit. It was -Winnemac and the Pottawatomies who have kill<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span> -Captain Wells. Now Winnemac comes to this place -with his warriors. Some are here now. In two -days the rest will be here. They will attack the -fort. In a month the British will come with the -big guns to help them. It is true, Monsieur, all true! -Sacre nom! Am I one to tell lies? It is all true.”</p> - -<p>Stickney dropped weakly into his chair. Bondie’s -earnestness and the confirmation which Alagwa’s -silence lent had its weight with him. Almost he -believed. Shuddering, half from horror and half -from illness, he lay silent for a moment.</p> - -<p>Then he raised his head. “Have you told Lieutenant -Hibbs?” he asked.</p> - -<p>Bondie shrugged his shoulders. “Lieutenant -Hibbs is a fool,” he said, not angrily, but as one -who states a well-known fact. “He speaks with a -loud voice, cursing everyone. He will not believe -me, no matter what I say. So I come to you.”</p> - -<p>Stickney got up. “We must go to him at once,” -he said. “Come.” He started down the path toward -the fort, then paused and hesitated, glancing -at the woman and children beneath the tree. Then -he went on. “Poor woman,” he murmured. “Let -her be happy a little longer.”</p> - -<p>At the gate of the fort the three were compelled -to wait while a messenger went to notify Mr. -Hibbs that Major Stickney wished to see him on -a matter of grave importance. Plainly the captain -was not anxious to receive visitors, for it was long<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span> -before the messenger came back, bringing grudging -permission for the three to enter. “The lieutenant’s -in the messhall,” he said, carelessly. “He’ll -see you there!”</p> - -<p>The messhall was a log cabin, long and low, that -paralleled the southern wall of the fort. As the -three approached it their ears were saluted with -loud laughter and clinking of glasses. Clearly, it -was the scene of high revelry.</p> - -<p>Inside, at the head of the table, sat Lieutenant -Hibbs, goblet in hand, flanked by Williams, murderer -of Wilwiloway and half a dozen others, all -traders or petty officers. Half a dozen smoky -tallow dips threw a flaring light on the flushed faces -of the revellers, but did not dispel the dim shadows -that crept about the walls.</p> - -<p>Hibbs glanced at Stickney with a flicker of irritation -in his eyes. He made no attempt to rise, nor -did he invite his visitors to sit down.</p> - -<p>“What the devil’s the matter, Stickney?” he -growled. “What do you want here at this time -of the night. Can’t you let a man have a minute to -himself?”</p> - -<p>Stickney’s face was grim. “I have just received -very serious news,” he said; “and I have brought -it to you. It is very serious—more serious than I -can say.”</p> - -<p>Hibbs glared at Stickney; then he glanced at -Alagwa and his eyes grew scornful. “News!” he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span> -growled. “I suppose you got it from that worthless -scamp”—he gestured at Bondie—“and from -that d—d Indian-bred cub. To h—l with such -news. I wouldn’t believe such dogs on oath.”</p> - -<p>“You’ve got to believe them this time. I doubted -the news myself at first, but now I am convinced -that it is true. Send away your boon companions -and listen.”</p> - -<p>Captain Hibbs threw himself back in his chair. In -the flickering candle light his blotched features -writhed and twisted. “I haven’t any secrets from -my friends,” he growled. “Spit out your news, -or get out of here yourself. Likely it’s some cock -and bull story.”</p> - -<p>Stickney shrugged his shoulders. After all, why -should he care who heard what he had to say? The -news could not be suppressed. On the morrow it -would be known to all, and it might as well be told -at once. With a tense energy, born perhaps of -the ague that was racking his body and of the -weakness that he realized was fast overcoming him, -he spoke.</p> - -<p>“Spit it out?” he echoed. “By God! I will -spit it out! Do you know that while you are -revelling here the Pottawatomies are dancing over -the dead bodies of Captain Wells, Captain Heald, -and all the men, women, and children who were at -Fort Dearborn? Do you know that General Hull -has surrendered Detroit and twenty-five hundred<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span> -men to the British? Do you know that in two days -this fort will be surrounded by redskins and all -communication between it and the outside world -will be cut off. Do you know that the British are -preparing to bring cannon up the Maumee to batter -down your walls? Do you know this, Lieutenant -Hibbs, you to whose care this fort and the honor -of the country have been committed?”</p> - -<p>Stickney staggered and clutched at the edge of -the table for support. His strength was failing -him.</p> - -<p>But his work was done. As he spoke the jeers of -his auditors died away and silence fell. Alagwa, -watching, could see the drink dying out of the faces -of the listeners.</p> - -<p>Suddenly Mr. Hibbs staggered to his feet. His -atramentous face had grown pale; his nostrils -twitched; his chin sagged. “It’s a lie!” he blustered; -“a lie cooked up by yonder dog and by that -half-breed cub. It’s a lie.”</p> - -<p>Stickney’s fever had come upon him and he was -shaking in its grip. “It’s no lie,” he gasped. “It’s -the truth! And there’s no time to lose. Preparations -must be made this very night to send away -the women and children, and to make the fort ready -for a siege.”</p> - -<p>Hibbs’s eyes widened. “Tonight?” he gasped. -“You’re mad, Stickney, mad.” His voice came<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span> -clearer. The news had well-nigh sobered him. “If -this news is confirmed——”</p> - -<p>“Confirm it now. Send men to the Miami village -across the river and see what word they bring back. -Don’t lose a moment. But let them be careful. -Twenty Pottawatomies are here already and others -are coming. Your scouts may be cut off. And -hurry, hurry, hurry! Tonight you can do many -things that will be impossible tomorrow. For God’s -sake, Mr. Hibbs! For God’s sake——” Stickney’s -voice failed him, and he staggered. Alagwa pushed -a stool forward and he sank upon it and leaned forward -upon the table, panting.</p> - -<p>Mr. Hibbs was recovering himself. He glanced -at the faces of his boon companions and saw that -Stickney’s words had carried conviction. The necessity -of asserting himself came strong upon him. -“Damnation!” he roared, drawing himself up. -“I know my duty and I’ll attend to it without advice -from you or anybody else. But I won’t be -stampeded. I’ll send out and inquire among the -Miamis. When I get confirmation I’ll act. But -I’m not going to act on the say-so of two worthless -half-Injun curs and of a greenhorn out of his -head with fever. Now get out and take that scum -with you.” He jerked his head at Peter and Alagwa.</p> - -<p>The listeners nodded. There was sense in the -captain’s decision. After all, the reports might -not be true. Stickney believed them, but he was an<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span> -ill man, fever racked, likely to see things deceptively. -It would be folly to break up existing conditions -on his single word.</p> - -<p>Alagwa had not opened her mouth. Silently she -had waited and listened. She herself was so sure -of the truth of the tale that she and Bondie had -brought that she had not doubted that it would -bring conviction to others. And now Mr. Hibbs refused -to believe it or to act upon it without delay.</p> - -<p>And delay would be fatal to herself and perhaps -to Jack. Metea would come for her at dawn. Before -then she must make sure of Jack’s safety. Despairingly -she looked to Stickney for help, only to -find him half-unconscious, shaking with fever. -Clearly he was incapable of doing more. If she was -to gain immediate refuge she must gain it by her -own efforts.</p> - -<p>She looked at the captain and fury swelled in her -bosom. Alagwa hated and loved with equal intensity, -and she had hated Hibbs since the day she -first saw him—the day he had scoffed at Jack. Now—now——</p> - -<p>Recklessly she sprang forward and thumped with -her clenched fist upon the table. The subservience -to authority ingrained in her as in every Indian -woman had vanished. Her white blood was in the -ascendency.</p> - -<p>“Listen!” she flamed. “Listen while I speak. I -bring you news that the tomahawks are up against<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span> -you. In return you call me scum. It is well. I -want not your good will. Think you I bring you -news because I love you? Not so! I hate you! I -hate you all, dogs and murderers that you are. -Gladly would I see you all at the stake. My heart -is not white, it is red. Why, then, do I warn you? -I warn you because my friend, Jack Telfair, one of -your own blood, one of a family high in the councils -of the great white father at Washington—because -he is ill and unprotected. I ask not your help for -myself. I ask it for him and for Peter Bondie and -his sister, who at my bidding took their lives in -their hands to bring you warning. Metea and the -Pottawatomies keep watch upon us. At dawn they -will come. Are we to be murdered because we -warn you?”</p> - -<p>Hibbs glared at the girl. But he was plainly -uneasy. He had forgotten about Jack. Now he -remembered. He remembered, too, that information -had come to him lately that the young fellow’s -family was of importance. Still he blustered. -“Hear the young cockerel crow!” he jeered. -“What’s this Metea fellow coming to you at dawn -for?”</p> - -<p>Alagwa colored. She had forgotten her anomalous -position.</p> - -<p>As she hesitated Williams burst in. “What’s he -coming for?” he jeered. “What you reckon he’s -coming for? These Injun-bred cubs are always<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span> -snakes in the grass. I’ll bet this boy’s been playing -spy for the Britishers and the Shawnees ever since -he’s been here.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa gasped. Williams had hit upon the truth. -That he did not know that he had hit upon it made -his words little less appalling to the girl. After -all she was only a girl, a child in years, trying -desperately hard to play the man. Stickney was -ill and Bondie incapable. She was practically alone -against a dozen men. The fury that had sustained -her went out of her, and she shrank back.</p> - -<p>Williams saw her terror and jeered at her. -“What’d I tell you,” he cried. “The cub’s a liar -and a spy. He ought to be shot, d— him!”</p> - -<p>For a moment more the girl faced the mocking -men. Her lips quivered; her breast heaved. -Desperately she fought for self control. Then all -at once she gave way. Across her face she flung -her arm, and bent forward, her whole body shaking -with wild hysterical sobs.</p> - -<p>Instantly Williams sprang forward, crying out in -evil triumph. “I knowed it!” he yelled. “I -knowed it. Look at him. Look at his figger. He -ain’t no boy. He’s a girl. I’d a guessed it long -ago, but she was so d— slim and straight. But -she’s been a-growing and developing. Look at her -now. She’s a girl, a girl, a girl, an’ she’s been -travelling around with that Jack Telfair. The -hussy! The baggage!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span>Like molten lead Williams’s words fell on the -girl’s consciousness. She attempted no denial; denial -would be useless. Blindly she turned toward -the door. As she did so it opened and three figures -pushed through it. One, a huge woman, caught her -in her arms. The other sprang past her. The sound -of a blow—a clear, clean blow—came to her ears, -followed by the crash of benches and table. Then -Jack’s voice rose, chill with death.</p> - -<p>“Gentlemen,” he said. “I learned for the first -time a few minutes ago that this lady was not a -boy. Within the hour, if she will do me the honor -to accept me, she will be my wife. In any event, -you will remember that henceforth her honor is -mine and you will address her accordingly.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIX</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE doubts and fears of the past weeks and -the terror of the moment alike dropped from -Alagwa, giving place to measureless peace -and rest. Jack was well and strong again; his voice -had rung out as no sick man’s could ring. He -had come to her aid. He would stand by her. She -was glad, glad, that he knew her secret. She was -so tired of playing the man. Closer she buried -her head on Fantine’s ample bosom and let her -happy tears stream down.</p> - -<p>Fantine did not speak. She stroked the girl’s -dark hair and patted her comfortingly on the back. -But her eyes ranged forward, watching for what -was to come.</p> - -<p>Those in the room were divided into two parties, -facing each other. On one side, close to the overturned -table, stood Hibbs and his company, hands -on pistols, waiting. Beside them Williams was -climbing to his feet from the floor to which Jack’s -blow had hurled him. Facing them stood Jack with -blazing eyes, grasping a long pistol, blue-barrelled, -deadly. Behind him Fantine held Alagwa in her -arms. Over her shoulder Cato and Rogers peered, -grimly waiting. Between the two parties sat Stickney, -looking with plaintive, fever-filled eyes for the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span> -table so suddenly wrenched from beneath his hands.</p> - -<p>For a little the picture held. Then Alagwa remembered -that Jack was facing foes. Perhaps——</p> - -<p>She whirled around, tearing herself from the -French woman’s arms, and sprang to his side, dropping -her hand to the hunting knife at her belt. -She spoke no word, but her glittering eyes were -eloquent. They bored into those of Lieutenant -Hibbs.</p> - -<p>Perhaps Hibbs had no taste for a struggle. Perhaps -he merely realized that he had gone too far. -Whatever his reasons, he let go his pistol butt and -laughed hoarsely.</p> - -<p>“Have it your own way,” he scoffed, facing Jack -with an assumption of scorn. “This is a free -country. Marry whom you d— please. But if -you want to marry this boy—Humph! this—er—lady—you’ve -got to do it quick. If she isn’t your -wife in an hour she goes out of this fort for good -and all. You’re white, and I’ll trust you to keep -your wife straight. But I’ll be d—d if I’ll trust -any Indian-bred girl that lives. I’ll give you an -hour to send for Father Francisco and get tied -up. Understand! An hour! Not a minute more.”</p> - -<p>Major Stickney rose totteringly to his feet. -“But—but—but—” he chattered, protestingly.</p> - -<p>“Sit down!” Hibbs roared at him. “You’ve -been preaching a h—l of a lot about duty. All -right! I’m doing my duty now. And part of it is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span> -to drive out of this fort anybody that wants to -see me and my men burned at the stake. As far -you”—he whirled on Peter Bondie—“if you and -your sister are afraid you can stay here.” He -strode to the door then paused on the threshold. -“Remember! One hour!” he rasped, and trumped -out of the room, followed by his friends. A moment -later the shrilling of a bugle called the garrison -to arms.</p> - -<p>Jack shrugged his shoulders. “That’s all right,” -he sighed, smiling at Alagwa. “You poor girl! -What a little heroine you are. You were a wonder -as a boy, but as a girl—Good Heavens! How blind -I’ve been. I might have known that no boy could -or would have done all that you have done. Well, -we haven’t much time——” He caught sight of -Alagwa’s face and broke off. “What’s the matter—er—Bob?” -he asked, gently.</p> - -<p>Alagwa raised her face to his. In her eyes -burned a light that Jack had never seen before—the -light of renunciation. “The road is watched,” -she said. “Metea and his braves watch it. If we -evade them and pass unseen, they will come to the -Maison Bondie at dawn, and if they find us gone -they will pursue. We can not escape them. Therefore -you must stay here, in the fort. I will go——”</p> - -<p>“You?” Jack stared. Then he laughed. “You? -My little comrade? My little—Bob? I wasn’t just -talking a moment ago. I will be very proud and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span> -happy if you will be my wife. We’ve been jolly -good friends, and we’ll keep on—with a difference. -You will marry me, won’t you—dear?” He brought -out the last word with a gulp.</p> - -<p>Slowly Alagwa shook her head. “No!” she -breathed.</p> - -<p>Jack’s face showed surprise, perhaps disappointment, -not to say dismay. He stared at the girl and -hesitated. Then he looked at his watch. “Ten -minutes of our hour is gone,” he said. “Bob, dear! -you must marry me! I’ll tell you why in a moment. -But first”—he turned to Rogers—“Rogers, -go and get Father Francisco and bring him here. -I’m not of his church, but I suppose he won’t object -on that score.”</p> - -<p>Rogers nodded and started for the door, but -stopped as Alagwa raised her hand.</p> - -<p>“Do not go,” she breathed. “It—is useless.”</p> - -<p>Rogers hesitated, but Jack stepped over to him -and spoke to him, and with a nod of comprehension -he went out.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Fantine had slipped to Alagwa’s side. -“Men are all fools,” she whispered, hurriedly. -“They know not what they want. M. Jack spoke -today according to his kind. He thought of no -girl in particular. He only had fancies. Be not -a fool and say him nay.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa clutched the French woman’s arm. “Why -did you tell him?” she wailed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span>“I told him nothing till he guess for himself. -Parbleu! It was time!”</p> - -<p>“He guessed? Guessed that I am Estelle Telfair——”</p> - -<p>“Non! Non! He knows not that! He knows -only that you are a girl and that—Hush! He -comes. I must go.” With a nod to Jack, the -French woman swept from the room, sweeping Cato -before her.</p> - -<p>Jack watched her go; then he went to Alagwa’s -side and took her hands. “Little comrade,” he -said, gently. “You really <i>must</i> marry me.”</p> - -<p>“I can not.” The girl spoke so low that Jack -could scarcely hear her.</p> - -<p>“Why not?” he asked. “You don’t hate me, -do you?”</p> - -<p>Alagwa’s hands tightened in his. “Oh! No! -No!” she breathed. “Not that! Not that!”</p> - -<p>“Then why——”</p> - -<p>The girl raised her eyes. She was very young. -But it was the day of young marriages. The stress -of life brought early maturity and Alagwa was -older far than her years. “Do you love me?” -she asked, gravely.</p> - -<p>Jack colored. Then he opened his mouth to begin -the ready masculine lie.</p> - -<p>But before he could utter it Alagwa cut him -short. “Do not answer!” she said, sadly but -firmly. “I know you do not. You like me as a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span> -comrade—a jolly good comrade—not as a wife. -Soon you go back home and you find the sweet, -gentle lady of whom you speak today—or some -other like her. You have no place in your life -for the brown wood-girl. For the wood-boy you -have a place, perhaps, but not for the wood-girl. -I know it. And I can not marry you!”</p> - -<p>“That’s nonsense,” Jack spoke irritably. He -had offered to marry the girl because he thought she -cared for him, because he felt that he owed it to her, -and because he felt his honor was involved. He had -not yet had time to think of her as anything but -a boy—a comrade. Scarcely had he realized that -she was a woman. But the moment she refused him, -his desires began to mount. Jack was a real man -and resembled most of his sex.</p> - -<p>“That’s nonsense!” he repeated. “There isn’t -any ‘sweet, gentle lady.’ There was one, I admit. -But she—she was older than I, and she’s engaged -and probably married and—Oh! I’ve forgotten -her long ago. I’m awfully fond of you -and——”</p> - -<p>“And I was fond of Wilwiloway—the chief that -Williams murdered so cruelly. The council of -women say that he might take me to his wigwam. -But he say no; he want me not unless I love him. -Shall I be less brave than he? I did not love him -and—and—you do not love me. So—so——”</p> - -<p>“But I do love you!” For the moment Jack<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span> -thought he did. “I do love you,” he insisted; -eagerly. “Haven’t I told you often how glad -I was that I found you? Hadn’t I planned to take -you to Alabama with me? Haven’t I sworn dozens -of times that you were the jolliest little friend I -ever had? Doesn’t that show that I love you? I -couldn’t say more—thinking you were a boy! Come, -be reasonable! The priest will be here in a minute. -Say you’ll marry me?”</p> - -<p>Jack was speaking well. His arguments were -unanswerable. His tones were fervid. His wishes -were unmistakable. But his words did not carry -conviction. He saw it and changed his arguments.</p> - -<p>“You really must marry me, little comrade!” -he pleaded. “Don’t you see you must. You—You’ve -been with me for more than a month and—and—You -remember what I said to you while we -were riding down the Maumee—about a girl getting -talked about if she—I said if the man didn’t marry -her he ought to be shot. You remember? You -won’t put me in such a position? Oh! You really -must marry me!”</p> - -<p>But the girl shook her head. “No!” she said, -firmly. “No!” She held out her hand. “Good-by!” -she said.</p> - -<p>“Good-by?” Jack’s mouth fell open. “What -do you mean?”</p> - -<p>Alagwa’s pale lips curved into a smile. “Has -the white chief forgotten?” she asked. “The hour<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span> -is almost done and I must go from the fort. And -you must stay.”</p> - -<p>“Stay? I stay and you—Good Lord! My -dear young woman, understand once for all that -when you go out of this fort I go too. Either you -marry me and stay, or we both go. That’s flat.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa paled. “But you can not go with me,” -she cried. “I—I will not marry you, and if you -travel with me now it—it would compromise me.”</p> - -<p>“Piffle!” Jack shrugged his shoulders, utterly -heedless of his change of attitude. “If you go, -I go too.”</p> - -<p>“But—but it is death. Indeed, indeed, it is -death.”</p> - -<p>“All right!” Jack saw his advantage and -pressed it hard. “All right, death it is, then.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa’s eyes filled with tears. Desperately she -wrung her hands. “Oh! You are a coward! A -coward to treat me so,” she sobbed.</p> - -<p>“All right. I’m a coward.” Jack made the admission -cheerfully. “But I’m going with you—unless -you marry me and stay here.”</p> - -<p>The door swung open, letting in the night. The -parade ground was aglow. Men with lanterns came -and went. Wagons were being hurriedly piled with -luggage. Double lines of sentries guarded the walls. -Evidently Lieutenant Hibbs had obtained confirmation -enough to alarm him and was preparing for the -worst.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span>As Jack glanced through the doorway Rogers -entered, ushering in a man who could be no one -except Father Francisco. Behind trooped Fantine -and Cato, and back of them came Captain Hibbs, -with Williams at his heels.</p> - -<p>For a moment the captain glowered at the scene. -“Tie them up, Father,” he rasped. “The hour’s -nearly gone, and, by God, I’ll keep my word.”</p> - -<p>Jack turned to the girl. “Which is it to be, -little comrade,” he asked.</p> - -<p>With a sudden gesture of surrender the girl faced -him. “Swear you will never regret—never regret—never -regret——” Her voice trailed away.</p> - -<p>“Regret? Of course not. Come, Father! We’re -ready.”</p> - -<p>Father Francisco did his office promptly. Probably -never before had he married a man and a girl -in boy’s clothes, but he asked no questions, either -as to that or as to the creeds of the strangely mated -pair before him. Creeds were for civilization and -all it connoted, and Father Francisco had been too -long on the frontier to refuse his offices to any who -asked them. He tied Jack and Alagwa hard and -fast, delivered himself of a brisk and kindly little -homily, blessed them, pocketed the fee that Jack -slipped into his hand, and went quietly away to his -duties.</p> - -<p>A buzz of congratulations followed. Fantine wept -over Alagwa’s curly head. “Tell him who you are,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span> -she whispered. “Tell him who you are.” Then -came Cato, who bowed over her hand and called her -“Mist’ess.” Last came Rogers.</p> - -<p>“I’m mighty glad,” said the old man. “I always -said you was a durned nice boy and I calculate -you’ll make a durned nice girl. I just want -to warn you about talking too much, but I guess it -ain’t really necessary. You ain’t always breaking -in on them that’s older than you and trying to air -your opinions. Most folks keeps a-talkin’ and a-talkin’, -but you’re right quiet, and that’s a mighty -good start toward a happy home. I reckon you’ll -do, even if you was brung up with the Injuns. I -got something for you. Leastways it’s for Jack, -and I reckon it’s all the same now.”</p> - -<p>The old man dug a letter out of his pocket. -“Here’s that epistle I was tellin’ Jack about this -afternoon,” he went on. “It come half an hour ago, -while you two was a-talkin’, and I got it and kept -it till you was through. It’s from Alabam’, and I -reckon it’s from Jack’s folks. I reckon you’d like -to hand it to him. Anyway, I got to go now. -Give it to him when you like. I guess there ain’t -anything in it that won’t keep for a while.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa took the letter. But Rogers was wrong -in thinking that she was glad to give it to Jack. -Though proficient in the Indians’ picture writing, -she knew nothing of the white men’s lettering and -she held it in awe. Almost sooner would she have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span> -touched a snake. As quickly as possible she handed -it to Jack; then stood back and watched him as he -broke the seal.</p> - -<p>As he began to read, something—perhaps it was -Alagwa’s strained attention—drew the eyes of the -group upon him. Abruptly all grew silent, as if -something portentous was in the air.</p> - -<p>Jack smiled as he read. Clearly the news was -good. Then suddenly his expression changed. A -look of terror swept across his face. He flung up -his hands, reeled, and cried out. Then before even -Alagwa could reach him he toppled to the floor.</p> - -<p>Instantly Alagwa was on her knees beside him. -“Jack! Jack!” she wailed. “Jack! Jack!”</p> - -<p>Williams glowered at the pair in evil joy. Then -he stooped and picked the letter from the floor, to -which it had fluttered from Jack’s loosened fingers. -For a moment he scanned it; then he looked up. “I -reckon this is what knocked him,” he jeered. “This -here letter says: ‘The girl you was sweet on ain’t -married. She’s done broke her engagement and -she wants you to come back to her.’ An’ here he’s -done gone and tied up with a half-breed Injun cub. -Ha! Ha!”</p> - -<p>Alagwa’s face grew white. What was lacking -in the letter her mind supplied. Her brain reeled. -Williams’s jeering laughter grew faint, coming from -an immeasurable distance; the candles spun round -her in enormous zigzags, the floor beneath her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span> -swayed. Blindly she stared, all her being concentrated -in one great determination not to faint.</p> - -<p>Then she felt Fantine’s arms about her. Slowly -self control came back to her, and she raised her -head. “Help me to get my husband to bed,” she -commanded.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Two hours later Alagwa, dressed for the road, -stood looking down upon Jack’s unconscious form. -Her eyes were dry but her face betrayed the ache -that tore her heart.</p> - -<p>She was not uneasy about Jack. The surgeon had -seen him and had declared that his set-back could -be no more than temporary. “Good Lord!” he exclaimed. -“What would you have? From all accounts -the boy’s been under stress enough tonight -to prostrate a well man. He’s blamed lucky to get -off as easy as he probably has. Take better care of -him in the future, madame!”</p> - -<p>Alagwa had listened silently. She knew that -more than exertion had overcome Jack. Her mind -was made up. Since Williams’s revelation she had -felt that she no longer had a place by her husband’s -side. She had saved his life in battle and had -brought him safely back to his white companions. -Since then she had saved his life again by the care -she had taken of him. She had betrayed her friends -in order that he might be safe. And she had reaped -her bitter reward. She did not blame Jack. She<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span> -blamed herself. She ought never to have married -him. His life was not hers. If for a moment she -had thought it possible to go with him and live the -white man’s life in far Alabama the events of the -night had blotted the idea from her mind. She -had done all she could to save him. The fort, -warned of the coming attack, would be able to hold -out till help came from the south. She could do -nothing more. Her part in his life was over. It -remained only for her to take herself out of it.</p> - -<p>She would join Metea and go with him to Tecumseh. -After all, to go was no more than her duty. -Tecumseh had called her and she must obey. She -would go and confess to him that she had failed in -her mission and that she had warned his enemies -of his coming attack on the fort. She would tell -him why she had failed, and she would accept whatever -punishment he meted out to her. Almost she -hoped that it might be that of the stake, so that -she might expiate her fault by extremest suffering. -Whatever it was, she would submit. Now that she -knew that Jack’s heart belonged to another, life -held nothing for her. Yes! She would go to -Tecumseh.</p> - -<p>It did not occur to her that the great chief might -not have sent for her—that Metea might have been -bought by the gold of Brito Telfair.</p> - -<p>Once more she looked at Jack. The smoky candle -gave little light, but the moon, now riding in glorious<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span> -majesty across a cloudless sky, shone through -the open window with a radiance almost like that -of day. By its gleam Jack’s boyish features stood -out clear and distinct. Slowly she bowed her head; -and with a sob, she kissed him on the lips. “Take -care of him, Cato,” she ordered, to the round-eyed -negro who stood by. “Take care of him.” Then, -dry-eyed, mute, she passed to the square and across -it to the gate of the fort.</p> - -<p>The sentry made no attempt to stop her; he had -no orders to stop those who wished to go out; and -without a word she passed forth into the outer -world.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XX</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">JACK’S relapse lasted longer than either the -surgeon or Alagwa had anticipated. When -the emotions of the day cumulated in the -rush of blood that ruptured anew the delicate half-healed -membranes of his brain August lay hot upon -the land. When he once more looked out upon the -world with sane eyes September was far advanced. -The autumn rains had transformed the hot, dry -prairie into a fresh green carpet starred with late -blossoms that would persist until frost. The winds -were tearing the ripened leaves front the branches -and heaping them in windrows of scarlet and gold; -the rustling of their fall whispered through the air. -From unseen pools along the Maumee the ducks were -rising.</p> - -<p>Many things had happened while Jack lay unconscious. -The siege of the fort had begun, had -taken its toll of dead and wounded, and had ended -with the arrival of General Harrison and the troops -from Ohio and Kentucky. The Indians had fled -down the Maumee to meet the advancing British -and warn them that “Kentuck were coming as -numerous as the trees.” Harrison had destroyed -the towns of the Miamis and Pottawatomies, had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span> -turned the command over to General Winchester, -and had left for Piqua. Winchester had marched -down the Maumee and had built a new fort at the -ruins of Fort Defiance. Fort Wayne itself was -almost as it had been before the siege began, but -the settlement around it had been burned to the -ground.</p> - -<p>In the three weeks that had elapsed Jack had -not regained consciousness sufficiently to understand -that Alagwa had left him. After he was better, -Cato, fearing the effect of the news, kept it back -until his master’s insistence grew too great to be -longer denied.</p> - -<p>Jack received the information in bewildered -silence. He could not understand it. Many of the -happenings of that eventful evening had been blotted -from his mind, but some of them remained fresh -and clear. He remembered how the girl had fought -against marrying him and how he had forced her to -consent. But he remembered, too, that she <i>had</i> consented -and had married him, irrevocably and forever. -Why, then, should she leave him an hour -later? And whither had she gone?</p> - -<p>Vainly he questioned Cato. The negro had grown -confused with anxiety, responsibility, and the lapse -of time. “Deed I don’t know whar she went, an’ -I don’t know why she went, Mars’ Jack,” he pleaded, -“’c’epin’ it was somethin’ in the letter dat poor -white trash read out to her.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span>Jack turned his head slightly. “Letter?” he -echoed. “What letter? And who read it?”</p> - -<p>“Dat letter that Mars’ Rogers brought you from -home. I don’t know who ’twas from but I reckons -it was from ole marster. You was a-readin’ it when -you dropped, and dat man Williams picks it up, and -he reads somethin’ outer it, and Miss Bob’s face -gets white and her eyes sorter pops and her mouth -trimbles. Then she straightens up and turns her -back on Williams and says for me to help her get you -to bed. Then, after a couple of hours, when you’s -restin’ sorter easy an’ the doctor done said you -warn’t a-goin’ to be sick long she tells me she’s -gwine away. She didn’t say whar she was gwine. -She just went.”</p> - -<p>Jack had listened silently. He was still very -weak. “What was it that Williams read?” he -asked.</p> - -<p>Cato fairly groaned with the effort to remember. -“Seems like I can’t exactly call it back, Mars’ -Jack,” he confessed. “It was sumpin’ about somebody -wanting you back home, but who ’twas I disremembers.”</p> - -<p>“Well, where is the letter?”</p> - -<p>Cato shook his head. “Deed I don’t know. Mars’ -Jack,” he answered. “I ain’t seed it since. I -looked for it the next day but I couldn’t find it an’ -I ax Massa Rogers, but he say he don’t know nothin’ -about it. I reckon it’s done lost.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span>“Go and find Rogers and ask him to come here.”</p> - -<p>While the negro was gone Jack lay quivering with -excitement. He could not even remember that he -had received a letter, much less what it contained. -Cato’s words only added to his bewilderment. -Naturally his people would want him at home, but -he could not conceive how any statement to that -effect could have troubled Alagwa, much less have -caused her to leave him. The thought of Sally -Habersham never once entered his mind.</p> - -<p>Rogers came after a while, but he brought no enlightenment. -The old hunter had left the room after -giving the letter to Alagwa and had not been present -when Jack fainted. He knew only that the letter -was from the south, presumably from Jack’s home. -Nor did he know whither the girl had gone. He did -not know that she had gone at all till nearly twenty-four -hours after her departure, and then he with -the others was shut up in the fort, unable to venture -out. And long before the siege was over all -record of her going had been blotted out.</p> - -<p>Later, Major Stickney, recovered from his fever, -came to see Jack, but he knew even less than Rogers.</p> - -<p>Balked here, Jack swallowed his pride and inquired -for Williams, only to learn that the trader -had tramped away with General Winchester’s army -down the Maumee. He inquired for Fantine, but -found that she and Peter had gone south with the -women and civilians an hour after his seizure; Cato<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span> -thought she had gone before his “mist’ess” had. -Even Mr. Hibbs had gone, having resigned from the -army as the sole way of escaping court-martial on -charges of drunkenness, cowardice, and incompetence. -Every avenue of information seemed -blocked.</p> - -<p>Driven back upon himself Jack ate his heart out -with vain questionings.</p> - -<p>He did not distrust the girl. It did not even -occur to him to question her conduct. What she had -done she had done for some reason that had seemed -good to her. He was sure of that. His little comrade -had not lost her staunchness when she changed -her seeming sex, nor when she became his wife.</p> - -<p>His wife! The words thrilled him. Day by day -his mind wandered back over the events of the weeks -that had passed since he came to Ohio. Day by -day the portrait he carried in his mind changed, -Alagwa’s boyish figure and boyish features melting -slowly into the softer outlines of womanhood. Day -by day he called back all that she had said and -done until his heart glowed within him. How sweet -she was! how dear! And how roughly he had used -her, treating her as a mere boy instead of throning -her as a queen. He ought to have guessed long before, -he told himself. He ought to have known that -no boy could be so gentle, so tender, so long-suffering. -With shame he reconstructed the events of -that last afternoon beneath the great tree when he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span> -had spoken of the “sweet, gentle lady” whom he -might some day wed and had laughed at the suggestion -that he might mate with a wild-wood lass -like his boy friend. How could he have spoken as he -did? Sally Habersham had been in his mind, of -course. But Sally Habersham—Sally Habersham -was not fit to tie the shoe of his little comrade; -she was a mere ghost flitting through the corridors -of a shadowy half-forgotten world, a million miles -removed from that in which he dwelt. Fantine -was right. What a man needed—on the frontier or -off it—was not a fair face and a knowledge of the -mazes of the minuet, but a staunch comrade, one -who would grow into one’s life and would share the -bitter and the sweet. Few men could win such a -prize, and he—he had thought to do so carelessly, -casually, by arguments that to his quickened consciousness -seemed little better than insults. How -had he ever dreamed that one so tender, so true, so -loving, would accept his hand without his heart. -She had called him a coward when he forced her to -marry him. Well, he had been a coward; with -shame he admitted it. No wonder she had fled from -him. But he would find her and would tell her all -the new-found love that welled in his heart. And -she would believe him, for he would be speaking the -truth.</p> - -<p>But how was he to find her?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span>At last, when he was despairing, Father Francisco -came to his aid.</p> - -<p>“My son,” said the priest. “I know not why -your wife has left you——”</p> - -<p>“I don’t either.” Jack wrung his hands. “They -tell me that it was something in a letter—a letter -I can not even remember receiving. But I don’t believe -it. I don’t believe it! She loved me! I am -sure she loved me. And she would not have left -me willingly.”</p> - -<p>Keenly the priest looked into the lad’s face. “Do -you love her?” he asked gently.</p> - -<p>Jack paled, but his eyes met the other’s squarely. -“By heaven, I do,” he swore. “I did not know it. -I married her for her honor’s sake. But now—now—I -love her! I love her! For me there is no other -woman in all the world and never shall be.”</p> - -<p>“And never was?” asked the priest gently.</p> - -<p>Jack colored. “I won’t say that,” he admitted. -“I—I thought I was in love once. Good heavens! -I didn’t know what love was then.” He laughed -bitterly. “But I’ve found out now. Oh! Yes! -I’ve found out now.”</p> - -<p>Father Francisco’s eyes had never left the lad’s -face. But at the last words he nodded. “I believe -you, my son,” he said. “We men are poor -creatures at best. I come to bring you a crumb of -news—only a crumb, but still, news. Your wife -did not go south. She went down the Maumee with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span> -a party of Pottawatomies. I think she must have -intended to go back to the Shawnees with whom -she had lived so many years.”</p> - -<p>Jack clambered to his feet. “Down the -Maumee?” he echoed. “I’ll start after her at -once.”</p> - -<p>But the priest shook his head. “No!” he said. -“You must get well and strong first. If you start -now you will kill yourself and you will not find your -wife. She is in no danger. Wherever she went, she -went of her own accord. She is perfectly safe. If -you really want to find her you will control yourself -and get well.”</p> - -<p>Jack set his teeth hard. The advice was good -and he knew that he must follow it. But still he -protested. “If you knew,” he began,——</p> - -<p>“I do know.” The priest spoke gently. “Years -ago I myself—But that is long past. Let it lie! -You must not start for at least two weeks.”</p> - -<p>“All right.” Jack spoke reluctantly. “And, -thank you, Father!”</p> - -<p>The priest rose. “No thanks are necessary,” he -said. “The church frowns on the separation of -husbands and wives, and I only did my duty in telling -you as soon as I knew.”</p> - -<p>Jack lay back on his couch rejoicing. The veil -was still before his eyes, but it was no longer black. -Light had dawned behind it. It would brighten, -brighten, till——</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span>When Rogers heard the news he nodded sagely. -“I reckoned so all along,” he asserted. “I reckoned -she’d gone back to those Injun friends of hers. But -I kinder hated to say so. Most Injun-bred youngsters -does when they gets an excuse. Maybe that -there letter gave her a jolt and——”</p> - -<p>Jack sat up. “Williams is down the Maumee,” -he gritted. “If I find him——”</p> - -<p>“Of course! Of course! But of course he’d -lie. An’ maybe there’s an easier way. It’ll take a -week or two for you to get well enough to start. -Whyn’t you let me go to Piqua and find Peter -Bondie an’——”</p> - -<p>“Will you?” Jack was growing more and more -excited. “When can you start?”</p> - -<p>“Right away. I——”</p> - -<p>“All right. Go! Go! Find Peter and tell him -all that has happened. Ask him if he can give me -any help, any clue, however small. He had friends -near Fort Malden. He got news from these. Find -out who they are. They may know something. -Find out what it was that Williams read aloud—what -it was that made my little comrade leave me. -And”—Jack hesitated and flushed painfully—“see -Colonel Johnson and find out whether he has heard -anything of Miss Estelle, my cousin whom I came -here to seek. Good God! When I think how I have -failed——” The boy’s voice died away.</p> - -<p>Rogers looked at him queerly. “I been a-thinkin’<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span> -about that gal,” he said. “I got an idea that——”</p> - -<p>Jack interrupted. Jack had gotten used to interrupting -Rogers, having found that that was the -only way to get a word in when the old man held -the floor. “Hurry back,” he said. “No! Hold -on! I won’t wait for you to come back here. Cut -across the Black Swamp and join me at Fort Defiance -or wherever General Winchester and the army -may be. I’ll go there and wait for you.”</p> - -<p>The old hunter got up. “I sure will,” he assented, -with alacrity. “I’ll start right away. I -reckon, though, I’ll get more from Madame Fantine -than I will from Peter.”</p> - -<p>Jack’s excitement lessened. A quizzical light -came into his eyes. Rogers’s liking for Fantine was -no secret to him. “Maybe you will,” he conceded. -“Fantine is very kind hearted. It’s a great pity”—meditatively—“that -she talks so much.”</p> - -<p>A faint color tinged the old hunter’s leathery -cheeks. “Who? Her?” he mumbled. “She—she—Well? -What in thunder do you expect a woman -to do? Ain’t a woman got a tongue? Why -shouldn’t she use it. What I hate is to hear men -talking so much. Anybody that cooks like Madame -Fantine sure has got a right to talk. But, all right. -Laugh if you want to. I’ll be right off and I’ll -join you as quick as the Lord’ll let me.” Allowing -no chance for reply the old man hastened nimbly -from the room.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span>After Rogers had gone the days passed slowly, -while Jack gathered strength and made ready to be -gone. His horses had vanished—commandeered for -the use of the army—and no others were to be had. -Winter, however, was at hand and he set himself to -follow the custom of the country and to learn to -use both skates and snowshoes.</p> - -<p>Cato had learned also, at first with many protests, -but later with mounting delight. “Lord, Mars’ -Jack,” he said, one day. “I sutinly do wish Mandy -could see me on these yere things. I lay she’d cook -me the bestest dinner I ever seed.”</p> - -<p>Jack nodded. “I reckon she would, Cato!” he -agreed. “But you want to be mighty careful. -We’re going a good many miles on the ice and if -you fell and hit your head——”</p> - -<p>“My head!” Cato looked bewildered. “Lord, -Mars’ Jack, if dat Injun couldn’t hurt my head with -that axe of his’n, how you figger out I gwine to hurt -it on the ice?”</p> - -<p>Jack grinned. “Of course you wouldn’t hurt -your head,” he agreed. “But the ice isn’t more -than a foot thick and if you hit it with your head -you’d probably knock a hole in it and we’d both -go through and be drowned.”</p> - -<p>As Jack’s skill in skating grew, his impatience -to be gone increased, the more so as the seat of war, -after centering for a time at Fort Defiance (where -a new fort, Fort Winchester, had been built to defend<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span> -the frontier against the hordes of savages that -hung along the frontier), had begun to move down -the river. When Jack heard that General Winchester -in command had boasted that he would take -Fort Malden in thirty days he refused to delay -longer.</p> - -<p>When he started out January had come. Snow -wrapped the earth and loaded the branches of the -trees, clinging even to the sides of the mighty trunks -that soared skyward. The road down the Maumee, -well-travelled as it was, was hidden beneath drifts. -Only the river itself was bare, swept clear by the -icy wind.</p> - -<p>Down it Jack and Cato sped, their skates ringing -on the steel-cased coils of the winding pathway. -For four days they travelled, passing Fort Defiance -and Fort Deposit, and coming at last to the mouth -of the river. A few hours more upon the ice along -the shores of the lake brought them to the American -camp at Frenchtown on the Raisin River.</p> - -<p>Here Rogers was waiting them at the outposts. -“I reckoned you’d be along soon,” he said, “an’ -I been watching. I’ve got news that you’d ought to -know quick. First place, Williams is here! No! I -ain’t seen him, but he’s here. He’s on outpost duty -an’ you can see him tonight if you want to. But -I reckon you ain’t got time to fool with the skunk -now. I’ve got bigger news. I didn’t see Madame -Fantine; she’d gone to Cincinnati to get some goods<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span> -to restock their store that was burned. But I saw -Peter. Neither of ’em knew that Miss Bob had left -you. Peter didn’t know nothin’ about the letter. -But he knew something else. And I saw Colonel -Johnson and he knew something else, too. Who you -reckon Miss Bob really is?”</p> - -<p>Jack clutched the old man by the arm. An idea -was dawning in his mind. “Who? Who?” he -chattered. “Not—not——”</p> - -<p>“She’s the gal you was lookin’ for—the gal that -Tecumseh brought up. Alagwa means ‘the star,’ -an’ they tell me her right name, Estelle, means star, -too. I dunno why she fooled you. Women is durned -curious critters an’——”</p> - -<p>The old man babbled on, but Jack did not hear -him. The explanation of many things had rushed -upon him. But the main fact stood overwhelming -and clarifying out.</p> - -<p>Bob was Alagwa, the girl of whom he was in -search, the daughter of M. Delaroche. And she -was his wife. Once he knew the truth he could not -understand why he had not guessed long before.</p> - -<p>In truth, however, his dullness was not strange. -No doubt, if he had known from the first that his -little comrade was a girl he would have quickly -guessed that she was the girl of whom he was in -search. But so long as he thought her a boy he -could not guess; and since he had known her sex -his thoughts had been engrossed with other matters.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span>When his thoughts came back to earth, Rogers -was still talking. “Peter was mighty sorry she’d -left you,” he said. “He reckoned she’d gone back -to Tecumseh. And he says for you to see his friend, -Jean Beaubien, at Frenchtown, and——”</p> - -<p>“At Frenchtown? That’s here!”</p> - -<p>“Yes. An’ I’ve seen Beaubien! He knows all -about Miss Bob. She’s living at Amherstburg, with -white people. Tecumseh’s having her taught -things.”</p> - -<p>“At Amherstburg!” Jack gasped. “Why! -that’s at Fort Malden, only fifteen miles away, -across the river!” He turned to Cato. “Cato,” he -directed, “you stay here with Rogers till I get -back. If I don’t come back——”</p> - -<p>“Hold your horses!” The old hunter fairly -shouted the words. “You ain’t plumb crazy, are -you. You can’t go to Fort Malden ’less’n you want -to lose your hair. There’s seven thousand Indians -there.”</p> - -<p>Jack set his teeth. “I’ll go if there are seven -thousand devils from h—l there,” he gritted.</p> - -<p>“Same thing!” assented Rogers, cheerfully. -“All right! If you feel that way about it, I -reckon I’ll have to go along. But there ain’t no -use of being any crazier than we got to be. If -we start at dark we’ll git there just about the best -time.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">DUSK was falling fast when the three friends, -with ringing skates, fast bound, sped forth -on their perilous errand. Before them -stretched the vast expanse of the lake, steel-clad, -reflecting and multiplying every spark of light that -lingered in the firmament. Behind them, low down -in the west, the pale ghost of the half-moon dipped -swiftly toward the tinted clouds into which the sun -had so recently plunged. All about hung a silvery -haze, moonlight-born, an exhalation from the blue-black -ice to the blue-black sky. Far in the north the -nascent lights of an aurora flickered against the -sky.</p> - -<p>The three did not speak much. The wind that -had swept the ice clear of snow made speech difficult, -cutting the breath from their nostrils and -whirling it away in transient wreaths of mist. -Leaning forward, to shield their faces, the three -pushed their mouths into the furs that circled their -throats and drove doggedly forward into the northeast.</p> - -<p>Jack, at least, was silent for other reasons. He -was going to the place where Alagwa had lived. -But would he find her there? Or would he find her -gone—gone with the fleeing British and Indians?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span>He had reason to think that they had fled. Every -soldier in the camp on the River Raisin was certain -that they had. General Winchester, of whom he had -sought permission to go beyond the lines, seemed -sure of it.</p> - -<p>Jack had found the general comfortably lodged -a quarter of a mile from his troops, in the house of -Francis Navarre, a resident of the place and a man -with cultivated tastes and a well-stocked cellar. -When Jack called, the general was at table with -half a dozen other genial Frenchmen, who were -laughing at his jests and listening to his stories -with apparently absorbing interest. A politician -before he had been a soldier, habituated to an easy, -luxurious life from which he had been for many -weeks cut off and subjected to privation and suffering, -the general was expanding like a flower in the -sunshine of his companions’ flatteries.</p> - -<p>He received Jack affably—affability was his -forte—and listened to his story with interest.</p> - -<p>“Certainly you may cross the lines, my dear -sir,” he said, when Jack had made his request. -“But I am afraid you won’t find your wife at -Amherstburg. My good friend, Jaques La Salle -here”—he nodded toward a smiling Frenchman -across the table—“my good friend, Jaques La -Salle, has information that Fort Malden has been destroyed -and that the British and the Indians have -all fled. In a day or two I expect to march up<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span> -and take possession. A glass of wine with you, -sir.”</p> - -<p>Jack drank the wine in some bewilderment. He -had not supposed that such easy success was near -at hand. “When did they leave, may I ask, general?” -he questioned, respectfully.</p> - -<p>The general shook his head. “Frankly, I don’t -know exactly,” he replied. “La Salle, when did -your news say the British expected to leave?”</p> - -<p>“This morning, general. They were packing -up last night. Probably they have gone by now. -Beyond a doubt they have gone if they heard of -your intention to march upon them.”</p> - -<p>“Ha! Ha! Yes! They’ve gone, my dear Mr. -Telfair. Still, they may have left a guard. Some -scouts who came in this afternoon reported that -they were getting ready to attack us tonight. All -foolishness, of course! It shows how little faith -one can put in rumors in war time. If you find -out anything about their movements, let me know, -Mr. Telfair. Good fortune to you sir.”</p> - -<p>Jack hurried away, wild to be gone. But Rogers -was obdurate and perforce he waited till dusk. -Meanwhile he talked with the soldiers.</p> - -<p>All of them were elated with triumph, past and -expected. Only two days before they had taken -possession of the village, driving away the British -and Indians who had garrisoned it, and they were -delighted with their success. They had made no attempt<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span> -to fortify their position. Why should they? -They were occupying the place only for a moment. -The enemy was flying before them. In a day or two -they would pursue them, would recapture Detroit, -and wipe out the disgrace of Hull’s surrender. That -the foe might rally and attack them had not entered -any one’s head. The only man in all the camp who -seemed in any way dubious as to the future was -Francis Beaubien, whom Jack visited to get full -information as to how Alagwa was housed, and even -Beaubien confined his misgivings to a shake or two -of the head. The reports of the scouts were received -with jeers. Whom the gods destroy they -first make mad.</p> - -<p>Jack recalled it all as he sped eastward. He was -torn two ways. For his country’s sake he hoped -that the enemy had fled. For his own sake he hoped -that all of them had not fled or that Alagwa at -least had been left behind. Once away from the -optimism of the camp he found it hard to believe -that foes so bitter and so often triumphant had fled -without a blow.</p> - -<p>At last the three reached the mouth of the short -but broad Detroit River and turned up it from the -lake. As they did so the moon set, leaving the great -stars to arch in splendor across the cloudless sky. -In the north the aurora still flickered, now shooting -upward toward the spangled firmament, now dying<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span> -away to palest gold. In the white glare the frozen -lake sparkled like a diamond.</p> - -<p>Up the river the adventurers sped, until the -Canadian shore, gleaming white with snow, rose -silver edged against the sky. To the north, far -away, points of yellow light glittered through the -trees and from the top of the bluff.</p> - -<p>Rogers jerked his hand toward them. “All -them Britishers ain’t gone yet,” he snorted. -“There’s a right smart passel of ’em left, judgin’ -from those lights. I reckon we’d better land down -here a ways.”</p> - -<p>Jack nodded and changed his course, heading -sharply in to the shore half a mile down river from -the camp and village. Half he expected to be -saluted by a volley of musket balls or to be met by -a horde of ambushed savages. Luckily, however, -no enemy appeared.</p> - -<p>Cautiously the three landed and moved northward -along the river, following a road that led -toward the village. When the lights were very near, -Rogers and Cato drew aside to wait, and Jack went -on alone.</p> - -<p>Soon he found himself in the thick of the Indian -village. No one challenged him or questioned him. -Dozens of other men dressed exactly as he was were -passing along the many paths trampled in the snow. -No British were visible, and he guessed that they -confined themselves to the limits of the fort, whose<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[277]</span> -dark bulk rose above the houses of the village. But -Indians were everywhere. Seven thousand of them, -many with women and children, had gathered there, -absolutely swamping the small village that had once -surrounded the fort. Dozens of French “habitans” -wandered through the streets. Nowhere could Jack -see the least sign of panic of which General -Winchester had spoken so jubilantly.</p> - -<p>The white settlement was small and Jack had no -difficulty in picking out the house where Alagwa -dwelt. It was larger and better built than most of -those that stood near it. Lights shone through -several of its windows.</p> - -<p>Jack went up to the door, intending to ask flatly -for Alagwa, hoping that the boldness of his demand -might gain him admission to her presence. His -knock, however, though twice repeated, brought no -response. Hesitatingly he tried the door, and it -opened easily, disclosing a dim hall with a brightly -lighted sitting room opening from it on the left. For -a moment he hesitated; then stepped inside. He -had no time to lose; if Alagwa was in the house he -must find her; if she was not in it he must search -elsewhere.</p> - -<p>The sitting room proved to be vacant, and a -glance through the open door into the dining-room -just behind it showed that this too was untenanted. -But as Jack turned back toward the hall, intending -to seek upstairs, he heard a rattling at the lock<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[278]</span> -of the outer door. Swiftly he glanced about him; -then as swiftly he slipped back into the sitting room -and hid behind the long heavy curtains that veiled -the windows.</p> - -<p>The next instant the door opened and a girl -came in. At sight of her Jack’s heart gave a sudden -bound and then stood still.</p> - -<p>It was Alagwa. And yet it was not she! Gone -were the boyish garments that he had known so -well, and with them had gone the slim boyish figure -and the careless boyish carriage. The girl did not -wear even the Indian costume that he had expected; -from head to foot she was clothed in the garments -of the whites.</p> - -<p>And her face! Jack gasped as his eyes rose to -it. The several features he knew—the dark splendid -starry eyes, the clustering curls, the red lips, the -olive cheeks in which the color came and went. -They were all there, but with them was something -else, an indefinable something that he had never -seen before. Marvelling, he gazed, till doubt began -to grow in his mind. Could this indeed be she—be -his little comrade of the trails, she who had fought -for him, she who had nursed him, she who had -pledged herself to him for better or for worse? -Could she have changed into this dazzling being, -this maiden like and yet unlike the “sweet gentle -ladies” he had known all his life, this being adorable<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[279]</span> -from the tips of her tiny boots to the last -riotous curl of her hair?</p> - -<p>He was about to sweep the curtains aside and -step forth when the half-closed door behind her was -flung open and an officer in a red coat, with a long -military cloak trailing from his shoulder, strode -into the room.</p> - -<p>At sight of him the girl threw back her shoulders. -Her eyes flashed. Her cheeks flamed. “Captain -Telfair!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing -here? Where are Mr. and Mrs. Winslow?”</p> - -<p>Brito’s eyes gleamed. He did not answer the -questions. “At last,” he breathed. “At last! -I’ve got you at last. I told you I would get you -sooner or later. And, by God, I have.” His voice -sank almost to a whisper.</p> - -<p>Alagwa did not answer. Almost she seemed to -have expected some such reply. Steadily she faced -the man. Jack, behind her, could see the color -pulsing in her cheek, just visible by the flaming -lamps.</p> - -<p>Greatly he longed to spring forward and take -Brito by the throat. But he did not do so. He -was in the heart of the enemy’s camp; the least outcry -would bring against him overwhelming odds and -doom him to a shameful death. Until the very -last moment he would wait.</p> - -<p>“You nearly killed me once, you know, Estelle,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[280]</span> -the man went on, in the same hushed, almost wondering -tones. “You fought me and you shot me. It -was then I first learned to love you. We are a -fierce race, we Telfairs, and we love fierce women. -And you are fierce, Estelle, fierce as the wild Indians -who brought you up. God!”—he laughed hoarsely—“to -think that I—I, Brito Telfair, I who supped -on the honey of women long before I became a man, -I who have known courts and palaces and kings—to -think that I should go mad over a wood-bred -girl! But it’s true, Estelle; it’s true. You are -my mate—hot and fierce and proud. You are mine -and tonight at last I have you fast.”</p> - -<p>“Be not too sure!” Jack scarcely knew the -girl’s voice, so deep and resonant it had become and -so well had she mastered the intricacies of the English -tongue. “Be not too sure. You thought so -twice before—once in the midst of Fort Defiance -and once when Metea and his bribed dogs turned -me over to you. But both times you were deceived.”</p> - -<p>Brito shrugged his shoulders. “You saved yourself -the first time, my beauty,” he said. “And I -love you for it. Tecumseh saved you the second -time and I hate him for it. Since then you have -fought me off with your tale of a husband! a husband!” -The man laughed savagely. “That game -is played out. You have no husband! I have -learned all the details at last. Marriage between -a Catholic and a heretic who part ten minutes after<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[281]</span> -the ceremony is no marriage. It can be annulled -and it will be annulled.”</p> - -<p>“It never shall be!”</p> - -<p>“Ah! But it shall. Tomorrow you yourself -will ask it. Tonight you are in my power—in my -power, do you understand? I command at Fort -Malden tonight. General Proctor and all my -superiors have gone to crush those braggart Americans -at Frenchtown. Tecumseh and his braves have -gone with them. Winslow and his wife, they who -have sheltered you here, are under arrest by my -orders; they will be released with apologies tomorrow, -but tonight they are fast and can not come -to help you. You are mine—and tomorrow you will -ask annullment.”</p> - -<p>Behind the curtains Jack stood tense and ready. -The news that the British and Indians had marched -against General Winchester appalled him. He -knew what fearful havoc they would work if they -could slip by night upon the confident sleeping -troops.</p> - -<p>What could he do? How warn his countrymen? -He could not leave Alagwa in peril. Nay! He -could not leave at all. The road to the River -Raisin led through the room, past Brito and the -Indians without. Could he pass them? He could -not overpower Brito without a struggle. And a -single outcry would ruin all. He must wait—wait -and watch. The game was not played out. Alagwa<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[282]</span> -was no child. She might save herself and make it -possible for him to escape with her to the American -camp. With hard-set jaws he waited.</p> - -<p>Alagwa was speaking without tremor or fear. -Scorn unutterable rang in her voice.</p> - -<p>“It is a plot worthy of you and your race,” she -grated. “Dogs and liars that you are. Oh! I -have found you out, all of you! For years you -have cheated my people, deceived them, debauched -them. For years you have fed them with lying -promises to restore them to their ancient homes. -You hated and despised them, but you wanted them -for a bulwark against the Americans. You wanted -them and you got them. You won them cheaply—by -lies and by presents—presents for which they -are paying now. They have borne the brunt of -every battle in this war. They have won every -victory for you. And you—you do not dream of -keeping your promises. You—you personally—are -like your lying race. You have killed, you have -bribed, you have conspired, you have imprisoned -those of your own race to win your way to this -house, to get your grasp on the lands handed down -to me by my forefathers. Tonight you purpose -to betray the great chief who has gone away to fight -your battles, trusting to your honor, leaving his -women in your care. All my life long I have been -taught to hate the Americans. All my life long -I have been taught to look upon them as robbers<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[283]</span> -and as foes. But, after all, I was born beneath the -American flag. I have married an American. I -am an American. And I am proud of it! Yes! -proud of it! I am proud of my husband and proud -of the race that produced him. I hate their foes. -I hate you. And, by the white man’s God I swear, -that your triumph—if you win it—shall be hollow, -for you will clasp a dead woman in your arms. And -tomorrow—tomorrow—Tecumseh will come back -and burn you at the stake!”</p> - -<p>Brito did not answer in words. Instead, he leaped -swiftly forward, clutching at the girl with outstretched -arms.</p> - -<p>Had Alagwa been bred in civilization he must have -caught her. But quickly as he leaped, eyes and -muscles trained to avoid the rattlesnake striking -from his lurking place in the grass were quicker. -Alagwa dodged beneath his arms and darted into -the dining-room, flinging the door backward behind -her as she went.</p> - -<p>Jack could wait no longer. As Alagwa vanished -he sprang from behind the curtains and threw himself -upon Brito. His fingers closed on the latter’s -long military cloak and he swung the Englishman -round with a fury that tore the garment from his -shoulders and sent him catapulting against the -farther wall. Simultaneously the jar of a heavy -door told that Alagwa had escaped from the house.</p> - -<p>Cursing horribly, the Englishman sprang up,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[284]</span> -plunging at Jack, sword out. But he halted and -recoiled as he met the small dark unwinking stare -of the American’s pistol.</p> - -<p>Jack’s voice rang out, chill and metallic. -“Silence!” he clinked. “If you raise your voice, -you die.”</p> - -<p>Breathing hard, Brito faced the unexpected foe -who had confronted him. Suddenly his eyes -gleamed with recognition and his teeth flashed from -behind his snarling lips. “You!” he gasped. “By -God! You!”</p> - -<p>Jack frowned. “Not so loud,” he cautioned.</p> - -<p>“Not so loud! By God! Hear the cockerel -crow.” A hoarse laugh rumbled from the speaker’s -lips. “You come in good time,” he cried. “Yes! -In good time. I shall not have to ask annullment -now.”</p> - -<p>Jack did not answer. He was thinking what to -do. He could not shoot the man down in cold blood! -Besides, the noise of the shot would probably cost him -his own life and would certainly bring his expedition -to an untimely end. He had caught his enemy but -he did not know what to do with him.</p> - -<p>Brito laughed again. Clearly he understood the -American’s dilemma. “You whelp!” he rasped. -“Do you think that popgun will save you?” he -sneered. “Or do you think Estelle will come back -to help you. She’s the better man of the two. But -she won’t come back. She didn’t even see you,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[285]</span> -much less recognize you. I don’t believe she knew -that any one had come to her help. Probably she’s -gone for her Indians. If she comes back with -them—Well! my friend, it’ll be all up with you.” -Brito was recovering his poise.</p> - -<p>Jack did not answer. He knew that if the -Indians came it would indeed be all up with him. -Swiftly his eyes quested the rooms. At last they -rested on a bell rope that hung from the wall.</p> - -<p>Instantly he swung back on Brito. “Drop that -sword,” he ordered.</p> - -<p>Brito dropped it. He heard death in Jack’s -tones.</p> - -<p>“Turn your back! Quick!” Brito turned it. -He was no coward, but Jack’s eyes brooked no denial. -In them he read obedience or death.</p> - -<p>As he turned Jack snatched at the bell cord that -hung along the wall and tore it down. Somewhere -in the house a furious jangling rose and slowly -died away. As it died Jack looped the rope, coil -after coil, about Britons body. “Silence! Or you -die!” he growled, and the Englishman’s frantic -but low-pitched curses died away. Swiftly he -bound the man to a heavy chair and thrust a gag -into his mouth. Then, throwing the long military -cloak about his shoulders, and clapping the army -cap upon his head, he turned without a word to the -door.</p> - -<p>His heart was heavy within him. He had set out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[286]</span> -to tell Alagwa of his new-born love and to bring her -back with him. He had won his way to her side, -had seen her face, had heard her voice—had heard -her declare that she was proud of him, her husband. -If he could have had a moment’s speech with -her—a single moment’s speech—he could have told -her—told her—But it was not to be. Hidden in -the mazes of the Indian camp she was for the moment -beyond his reach.</p> - -<p>Besides, he must hurry to warn the American -camp. His heart burned hot as he thought of the -fatuous fool who slept far from his men, who scoffed -at warnings, who neglected the commonest precautions -for defense. Swift as prudence would -allow he sped through the Indian camp to where -Rogers and Cato waited, and together the three -raced southward and westward, hoping against -hope that they would yet be in time, hoping till the -far-off rattle of rifles rose and fell and died away, -till red flames crimsoned the sky, and the yells of -exultant savages sounded across the snow and the -ice. Then, hopeless, the three circled south and -took the trail back to the Maumee, bearing to General -Harrison the fateful news that General Winchester’s -army was no more.</p> - -<p>This much Jack knew and told. He could not -know, what the world has since learned, that Winchester, -waking to the yells of the foe as they -hurled themselves upon his defenseless camp, tried<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[287]</span> -too late to join his sleeping soldiers and was captured -by the Indians and taken before General -Proctor. He could not know that Winchester, -overborne by Proctor’s threat that he feared he -would not be able to restrain the fury of his -savages if the Americans continued to resist, thrice -sent an order of surrender to Major Madison -and the men who were bravely holding out behind -a barricade of garden pickets. He could not know -that at the third order Madison had surrendered -on pledges of protection from Proctor himself—pledges -that the British general promptly forgot, -abandoning the wounded and the dying to the vengeance -of his savage allies—abandoning more than -three hundred men, unarmed and defenseless, to be -tomahawked in cold blood or to be burned alive in the -building that had been hurriedly transformed into -a hospital. He could not know that six hundred -more had been carried away as prisoners, and that -of the thousand jubilant men who had thought to -march on Amherstburg and Detroit on the morrow -only thirty-three escaped.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[288]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">BEFORE Jack again approached Fort Malden -six months had passed away—six months -of winter, of budding spring, of golden -summer. When General Winchester’s army perished -winter was nearing its end; when at last -the tide of war changed and began to flow northward -summer had died on a bed of scarlet and gold -and autumn winds were driving the rustling leaves -through the whispering woods.</p> - -<p>During those six months even Jack, desperate -as he was, had not dared to run the cordon of foes -that lay between him and his desires. Not till -Perry had swept the British from Lake Erie and -Harrison sailed with five thousand men for Canada -could he once more set about his quest.</p> - -<p>First of all Americans Jack sprang upon the -Canadian shore at almost the very spot where he -had landed from the ice so many months before. -But he was too late. Fort Malden was in ruins; -British and savages had together fled; and Alagwa -had gone. Half-mad with anxiety, he sought and -gained permission to scout in front of the army, -which was advancing swiftly, driving the foe before -it. Now or never he must find his bride.</p> - -<p>His chance came when, advancing up the Thames<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[289]</span> -River with some of Perry’s sailors, he captured a -bateau manned by a captain and half a dozen -Canadian dragoons. Half an hour later, clad in -the captain’s uniform, he went forward into the -darkening night, determined to ascertain the position -and defenses of the enemy, to learn whether -they meant to fight or fly, and to find Alagwa.</p> - -<p>He went alone; Rogers was lying wounded at the -encampment at the mouth of the Portage River, -where he was being nursed by Fantine. Cato he -refused to take.</p> - -<p>The night was made for scouting. Close to the -ground a light breeze whispered, and high overhead -a wrack of clouds drove furiously across the -sky. Through the gaps in the flying scud huge stars -blazed down, casting an intermittent light that -enabled Jack to keep his course without revealing -his movements to possible enemies. Hour after hour -he went on, slowly, not knowing where he would -chance upon the foe. He did not intend to try to -creep upon them unseen. He intended to walk in -upon them boldly, as one who had a right to be -present, trusting for safety to his disguise and to -the inevitable confusion of the retreat that would -make it good. But he wished to choose his own -time for appearing and not to blunder on the -enemy’s camp unawares.</p> - -<p>The path that he was following was broad and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[290]</span> -soggy. It had been driven straight through crushed -bushes that were slowly straightening themselves -and over broken and torn brambles. Spruce and -hemlock overhung the path, brushing his face with -long spicy needles. Beyond, on either side, rattled -the bare canes of the underbrush, rubbing together -their thousand branches, bark against bark. -Far away an owl called, and once, high overhead, -Jack heard the honk, honk of wild geese speeding -southward through the upper reaches of the air.</p> - -<p>Well he knew that his errand was desperate, more -desperate than had been his venture into Amherstburg -six months before. If detected he could expect -no mercy. From time immemorial even civilized -foes had punished spies with death. What -doom then could he expect from savages who had -been beaten and broken, whose ranks had been depleted, -whose villages had been burned, whose allies -(on whom they had relied to protect them from the -consequences of their rebellion) were in full retreat? -Jack knew well the fiery death he faced. But he -knew, too, that if he did not find Alagwa that night -he would probably never find her.</p> - -<p>Abruptly the underbrush ended and he came out -into a park-like open space that stretched far into -the distance. On the right the gleam of water -showed where the Thames wandered sluggishly to -Lake St. Clair. Cautiously he followed it till his -road forked. One branch, broad and deep, trampled<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[291]</span> -and showing marks of heavy wheels, ran on up the -river; the other, marked only by trampled grass, -turned off to the left. Jack took the second, for -he was looking for the Indians rather than for the -British. He followed it through a belt of swamp, -in which he sank nearly to the knees, then came out -upon a second clearing, across which, perhaps a -quarter of a mile away, he saw a light flashing close -to the ground.</p> - -<p>With tightening pulses he advanced. Soon he -saw leaping flames, crisscrossed by the black -branches of the trees. Then they vanished, but -their glow on the overreaching trees persisted, showing -that they had been merely obscured and not extinguished. -A few yards farther, and the screen -that had cut off the light resolved itself into men -thickly ranked. Jack knew that Indians, most of -all Indians upon the warpath, build only tiny fires -for cooking, for warmth, or for company; for -council alone did they build great fires like this. -Half by luck and half by effort he had found his -way to the spot he most desired—to the council fire -of the savages.</p> - -<p>Now or never. Boldly he strode forward, like -one who expects no challenge. The clearing ended, -giving way to undergrowth, beyond which rose -thicker forest. The ground underfoot again grew -spongy and he knew he was entering a second -swamp. A guard of Indians, squatting at the edge<span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[292]</span> -of what was evidently the camp, stared at him as -he passed but made no move to stay him. Further -on, here and there, a warrior glanced at him carelessly. -Jack did not heed them; he well knew that to -hesitate would be fatal; deliberately he advanced to -the ring of savages and pushed his way through them.</p> - -<p>Within, a ring of sitting men—redcoats and -red men—were ranged in an ellipse in whose center -burned the fire that he had seen from afar off. At -one end, a little in advance of the line, sat an Indian -clad in the red coat and shoulder straps of a -British officer. Jack recognized him instantly as -the chief who had visited him upon the far-away -Tallapoosa and realized that he must be Tecumseh -himself—Tecumseh, who had been made a major-general -by the British king. At the other end of the -ellipse, also in advance of the line, sat a British -officer, evidently of high rank. Jack guessed that -he was General Proctor. Round the circuit of the -ellipse were ranged officers wearing the uniforms of -the British and of the Canadian militia, interspersed -with Indians, sachems of many tribes—Pottawatomies, -Shawnees, Miamis, and others—representatives -of the nations that the British had -roused to murder and massacre. Only the Wyandottes -were absent; foreseeing the vengeance -that was about to fall, they had that morning fled -and offered their services to General Harrison, only -to be sent to the rear with the curt announcement<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[293]</span> -that Americans did not enlist savages in warfare -against white men.</p> - -<p>Close to Jack a gap showed in the circuit of -the ellipse. He stepped forward deliberately and -seated himself in it.</p> - -<p>No one said him nay. All who noticed him seemed -to take him at his own appraisal. His uniform was -a passport, and doubtless none dreamed that an -enemy would dare to so beard death in his very lair. -None challenged him, and when he looked about him -no suspicious eyes burned into his.</p> - -<p>In the middle of the cleared space blazed the fire, -its dancing flames flickering on the bare overhanging -boughs and on the ghastly painted faces of the -savages. At one side of it rose a cross, from whose -arms hung the creamy-white bodies of two dogs -bound in ribbons of white and scarlet. They bore -no scar; so deftly had they been strangled that not -a single hair had been disturbed. At the other side -of the fire a warrior painted like death, beat a drum -monotonously, tump-a-tump, tump-a-tump.</p> - -<p>Into the ellipse a stately figure abruptly advanced. -He faced the fire and the cross and raised -his hands. At the sign two young warriors slipped -out of the circle of braves and lifted down the dogs -from the cross and held them out. The priest received -them with reverence and laid them on the fire.</p> - -<p>For an instant the smell of burning hair filled the -glades; then it was swallowed up in the stronger<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[294]</span> -odor of the dried herbs which the priest sprinkled -upon the flames.</p> - -<p>Then he began to chant, and the encircling -braves took up the refrain, rolling it skyward till -the bare branches overhead quivered and the water -quaked among the mosskegs of the swamp.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Our forefathers made the rule,</div> -<div class="verse">And they said: Here shall we kindle a council fire;</div> -<div class="verse">Here at the forest’s edge, here we will unite with each other,</div> -<div class="verse">Here we will grow strong.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">We are losing our great men. Into the earth</div> -<div class="verse">They are borne; also our warriors;</div> -<div class="verse">Also our women, and our grandchildren as well;</div> -<div class="verse">So that in the midst of blood</div> -<div class="verse">We are sitting. Now therefore, we say,</div> -<div class="verse">Unite, wash the blood stains from our seat,</div> -<div class="verse">So that we may be for a time strong and overruling.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>The chant died away. The priest disappeared. -The chieftain whom Jack had guessed was Tecumseh -arose and strode forward till he stood close -above the embers of the dying fire. Round about -the circle his fierce eyes swept; for an instant they -rested on Jack’s face, lighting up, perhaps with -recognition; then they swept on till they met those -of the British general.</p> - -<p>“We meet here between the camps of the redcoats -and the red men,” he said. “We meet to talk<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[295]</span> -of what has been and of what is to be. Many moons -ago the great white king across the sea sent word -to us to lift the hatchet and to strike the Americans. -He sent us word that he would never desert us; -that he would give us back our ancient lands; that -he would not make peace and abandon us to the -vengeance of the Seventeen Fires. We dug up the -hatchet. We fought long and hard. Again and -again we won for the great king victories that without -us would have been defeats. In every struggle -we bore the sweat of the fight. When the Long -Knives came to Fort Malden we wished to strike -them and send them howling back. But the white -chief said no, and we obeyed. Again and again he -forced us to retreat, always against our will. Now -he wishes to retreat once more. I ask him if this -is not true.”</p> - -<p>General Proctor did not rise. He looked sullen -and careworn. “We must retreat,” he declared, -irritably. “The Americans outnumber us. We -can not stand against them here.”</p> - -<p>“And what of the red men?” Tecumseh’s tones -grew chill. “Our villages have gone up in smoke. -Our women and children hide in the forests. Winter -is coming on quickly. We can not take to the -waters like fish, nor live in the forests like wolves, -nor hide in the mud of the swamps like snakes. -Either we must meet the Long Knives and drive -them back or make peace with them and save what<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[296]</span> -is left to us. The white chief shall not retreat.”</p> - -<p>General Proctor shrugged his shoulders. “The -white chief must retreat. Later——”</p> - -<p>“There will be no later. The white chief shall -not live to retreat. Either he must fight the -Americans or he must fight Tecumseh and his men. -The scalps of the white chief and his soldiers are -still upon their heads. Let him look to it that tomorrow -they are not carried as an offering to the -chief of the Seventeen Fires.”</p> - -<p>Proctor sprang to his feet. He was shaking -from head to foot, but whether from anger or from -fear Jack could not tell. Several times he tried to -speak and each time his voice failed. At last the -words came. “Does not my red brother know why -we retreated?” he cried. “Does he not know that -it was because our red allies melted away from us, -leaving us outnumbered by the men of the Seventeen -Fires. Even while I speak other warriors are -slipping away in the night to make peace with the -Americans. The servants of the great king are -brave and strong. But they are too few to fight -alone. If my red brother can hold his men, we need -not retreat farther. We will meet the Americans -and drive them back as we have driven them so -often before. Let my brother speak.”</p> - -<p>Tecumseh bowed. “My brother is wrong,” he -declared. “The red men have not deserted. Nearly -all of them are here, ready to fight. It is the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[297]</span> -white men who would retreat. If my brother will -fight, the red men will do their part. I offer him -my hand upon it.” He stepped forward and held -out his hand.</p> - -<p>General Proctor took it. “It is well,” he said. -“Tomorrow we will fight. Now break up the -council.”</p> - -<p>Tecumseh waved his hand. The warrior at the -witch-drum began to beat, tump-a-tump, tump-a-tump. -From the crowding braves rose a chant, low -at first, but swiftly gaining volume.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">Look down, oh! gods, look upon us! We gaze afar on your dwelling.</div> -<div class="verse">Look down while here we are standing, look down upon us, ye mighty!</div> -<div class="verse">Ye thunder gods, now behold us!</div> -<div class="verse">Ye lightning gods, now behold us!</div> -<div class="verse">Ye that bring life, now behold us!</div> -<div class="verse">Ye that bring death, now behold us!</div> -<div class="verse">Aid us and help us. For we fight for thee.</div> -</div></div> - -<p>Loud and wild swelled the chant, the ritual of -the tribesmen. Then it slowly died away. The -ranks of standing warriors dissolved and vanished. -The white men marched away, General Proctor at -their head. Jack rose to follow, but as he did so -his arms were grasped on either side and he was -held powerless. “White man stop,” muttered a -gutteral voice in his ear. “Tecumseh speak with -him.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">[298]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE council had sat long. When it rose the -sky was pink with dawn, and the velvety -black pall that had edged the clearing had -changed into ranked trees and underbrush. The -swampy floor beneath lay dull, save where some -lost pool gleamed suddenly silver. Azure mists -curled softly upward. To the east, beyond the -edge of the woods, the broad meadow glittered with -the sparkling dew-jewels left by the parting night. -Far to the left a gleam of broken silver showed -where the Thames river rolled.</p> - -<p>The spot, as Tecumseh had said, was between the -Indian and the British lines. It lay just behind the -apex of an obtuse angle, one leg of which ran along -the edge of a fringe of beech trees wherein the -British were entrenched. The other leg bordered -the narrow marsh where the Indians waited. Neither -woods nor swamp were deep nor dense. Behind them -the light gleamed through glades that gave upon the -open country.</p> - -<p>Jack made no attempt to escape. He knew -it would be useless. Besides, he was minded to play -the game out. He had come for his wife, and, now -that day had come, he could not hope to find her -save by Tecumseh’s aid. This he determined to invoke;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">[299]</span> -and this, in spite of the deadly peril, he welcomed -the chance to invoke. After all, he had come -to Ohio by Tecumseh’s invitation. He had some -rights which even a savage must respect. Almost -eagerly he stepped toward the place where Tecumseh -waited.</p> - -<p>Abruptly the red chief raised his hand and the -iron arms of the two braves caught Jack and dragged -him back. At another gesture they stepped -before him, screening him from the sight of an -officer, clad in the red coat of the British, who was -striding into the circle.</p> - -<p>Swiftly the officer came on, and Jack saw that he -was Brito Telfair. Close to Tecumseh he halted, -and without salutation or formality he spoke.</p> - -<p>“Is Tecumseh a coward that he needs the help -of squaws?” he demanded, hotly. “Will he keep -the daughter of Delaroche here during the battle? -Or will he send her away?”</p> - -<p>Tecumseh’s face darkened. His hand sprang to -the hatchet at his belt. If Brito saw it, he did not -heed.</p> - -<p>“In an hour a wagon with wounded starts to the -rear,” he said. “Send the girl with it. If we win -today you can find her again and protect her. If -we lose she will be safe. Send her away, I beg of -you.”</p> - -<p>Abruptly the man’s voice broke. “You needn’t -fear me,” he said. “I can’t leave here, and you<span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">[300]</span> -know it. But—but a battle is no place for a woman! -Send her where she will be safe.”</p> - -<p>Tecumseh’s lips moved. “I will consider,” he -promised. “Go now and return within an hour. -Perhaps I will let the Star maiden go.”</p> - -<p>Brito nodded and turned away. As he went Jack -felt the iron grip of the braves tighten upon his -arms, forcing him forward.</p> - -<p>He went willingly enough. He had learned that -Alagwa was there, in the camp, and he swore to -himself that not Tecumseh nor Brito nor all the -devils from h—l should prevent his reaching her.</p> - -<p>Coolly he faced the red chieftain. “The great -chief came to me far in the south,” he said, deliberately. -“He called me and I came a long trail -to meet him. He did not wait for me, and I have -followed him here to receive from him the Star -maiden, my kinswoman, the daughter of Delaroche. -Will the great chief send for her?”</p> - -<p>Long Tecumseh stared the young man in the -face. At last his lips moved. “The young white -chief is brave,” he said.</p> - -<p>Jack shrugged his shoulders. He had spoken -as he did in the hope of startling his captor. He -had no intention of pushing the pretense too far. -“The white chief seeks his wife,” he said, deliberately. -“He believes she is in Tecumseh’s camp. -He comes to demand her.”</p> - -<p>Tecumseh’s face grew even grimmer. “Does the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">[301]</span> -white chief come for that alone?” he asked. “Or -does he come to spy out the camp of his foes? Make -answer, Te-pwe, he who speaks true.”</p> - -<p>Jack looked the chief in the eyes. He knew that -deception was useless and he was in no mood to try -it. “Tecumseh may judge for himself,” he said. -“Let the great chief do with me as he will. But -first let him tell me whether my wife is with him and -whether she is safe.”</p> - -<p>Tecumseh’s brows went up. “Why need the -white chief seek his wife,” he demanded. “What -wrong has he done her that she has fled from him?”</p> - -<p>Jack shrugged his shoulders. “I have done her -no wrong,” he said. “Why she has left me I do not -know. I was ill and when I recovered she had gone -with emissaries sent by Tecumseh. Perhaps she -went because he sent for her. Perhaps she went -because her ears were filled with lies. Much I have -guessed but little do I know. Perhaps the great -chief knows better than I why she went.”</p> - -<p>Tecumseh did not answer at once. His fierce -eyes bored into Jack’s as though they would read -the young man’s soul. Jack thought his expression -was softer, but when he spoke his voice was as chill -as ever.</p> - -<p>“Ten years and more ago,” he said, “when the -chief Delaroche lay dying I gave him my word that -if the need ever came I would put his daughter in -the care of his kinsmen in the far south and not in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">[302]</span> -that of his English kinsmen. Years went by and the -call came. The chief Brito demanded her. He was -a redcoat chief, an ally of Tecumseh, and you were -an enemy. He was a strong man and a warrior and -you were a boy. Had it not been for my word to my -friend I would have given her to him gladly. But -the word spoken to the dead comes not back. Therefore -I sought you out and bade you come for the -girl. I waited long, but you did not come. Once -more I tried to keep my word to my friend. I sent -the girl south, into your lines. I thought she would -find you and she did. For days she travelled with -you. I had kept my word to my dead friend.”</p> - -<p>The day was brightening fast. The sky had -grown brilliant with pink, and scarlet, and saffron. -The sun thrust himself above the rim of the world -and sent long lances of light shimmering through -the damp air. The trees burned red against the -horizon; the wet underbrush glistened like precious -stones.</p> - -<p>Tecumseh’s voice changed. For the moment it -had grown softer, but now it grew chill as death. -“Then suddenly,” he said, “she came back to me. -She thought that I had sent for her. I had not. -Those who told her so were liars bought by the gold -of Brito. Nevertheless I had kept my word and I -was free to give her where I would. Gladly would -I have given her to Brito. But she said she was -your wife, wedded to you by the white man’s law. She<span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">[303]</span> -said she would die before she would go to Brito. She -begged me to protect her.</p> - -<p>“I did protect her. I did not understand. So -I protected her until I could understand. She had -not left you merely because she thought I had sent -for her. Do I not know her and her sex? She -loved you and she would not have left you at my -call. A thousand times I might have called and she -would not have come. Some other cause she had. -What was it?”</p> - -<p>Jack shook his head. “I do not know,” he said. -“Some talk there was about a letter that came to -me at the instant of my marriage. I know nothing -of it. I do not even remember that it came. When -I fell, stricken by my old wound, I dropped it and -an enemy of mine picked it up and read something -from it. I do not know what it was—what it could -have been. I do not even know that Alagwa heard -it. I speak of it only because I know of no other -cause. Has she not told you why she left?”</p> - -<p>“She has told me nothing. She denied that you -had wronged her. She swore that your heart was -good toward her. But I did not believe her. When -a woman loves she will go down to the gates of h—l -to bring up lies to shield her beloved. I did not -believe her. But she was the daughter of my friend -and to me it fell to right her wrongs, to do justice -on her foes. I would not give her to the redcoat -chief so long as you lived. I would not slay unjustly.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">[304]</span> -Therefore I gave orders to take you alive -that I might question you. Others also I sought to -capture, learning little by little what part they had -in my daughter’s wrongs. One by one I have gathered -up the threads and woven them into the bow-string -of my vengeance. At the last you have come -into my hand like a bird to a trap. Now, all is -ready. Tomorrow may be Tecumseh’s last on earth. -But tonight he has power and will do justice.”</p> - -<p>The speaker gestured and a warrior who stood by -handed a blanket to Jack. “Wrap yourself,” -ordered the chief, “and sit beside the fire. Hide -your face and speak not till I give you leave.”</p> - -<p>Greatly wondering, Jack obeyed. Nothing that -Tecumseh said gave him hope, though the fact that -the chief had said anything at all carried some little -comfort. Very clearly Tecumseh would have been -glad to give Alagwa to Brito, and very dearly he -had only to take Jack’s forfeited life to make it -easy to carry out his wishes. On the other hand -if he meant to kill he could do so with fewer words. -With mingled hope and fear the American waited.</p> - -<p>The crackling of brush beneath a hurrying tread -came to his ears and he looked up.</p> - -<p>Through the woods a slim, young girl was coming -swiftly. A moment more and Alagwa stepped -into the circle of the clearing and bowed before the -great chief. “My father has sent for me,” she -said. “I have come.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">[305]</span>Jack’s heart beat fiercely within him. This was -not his comrade of the trails nor was it she whom -he had seen for a few brief moments on that eventful -night eight months before. Gone were the mannish -garments in which he had best known her. -Gone also was the white woman’s dress in which she -had looked so fair. In their place she wore the -doeskin garb of an Indian maid, draped about the -shoulders with a blanket. The strained look of -anxiety had gone from her eyes, giving place to a -sorrow too deep for words. Jack’s heart throbbed -with desire to leap to his feet and catch her in his -arms. But, mindful of Tecumseh’s words, he waited.</p> - -<p>The great chief did not delay. “A year ago,” he -said, “Alagwa came to Tecumseh, leaving the -American chief to whom he had sent her. Tecumseh -would have given her to his ally Brito. But she -swore that she was married and that she loved her -husband. Tecumseh would not take back his gift -to the American chief unless it were flung in his -teeth. Alagwa would tell him nothing. Therefore -he has found out for himself. Little by little he has -learned all her story. Tonight he is ready to do -justice. Daughter of Delaroche! Tecumseh’s -hatchet lies beneath your hand to strike whom you -will. The young white chief is in his power. Shall -he slay him?”</p> - -<p>The girl’s face whitened. She took a step backward,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">[306]</span> -catching at her heart. “Jack!” she whispered. -“Jack! He is here?”</p> - -<p>“He is here. What shall Tecumseh do with him? -Shall he send him to the stake?”</p> - -<p>The girl’s lips parted; her eyes widened with -horror. Then she dropped upon her knees at -Tecumseh’s feet. “No! No!” she gasped. “Oh! -God! Not that! Tecumseh will not, shall not, do -that. If ever Tecumseh loved Alagwa let him hear -her prayer. Let the young white chief go and send -Alagwa to the stake in his place.”</p> - -<p>“But he wronged you.”</p> - -<p>“He wronged me not. He was ever good and -kind. He wronged me not.” The words were a -wail. “Believe me, great chief!”</p> - -<p>Relentlessly Tecumseh faced her down. “Why -then did you leave him?” he demanded.</p> - -<p>“Because he loved me not. He never pretended -to love me. He married me to save my good name. -I—I—” The girl gasped, then went proudly on—“I -loved him and I thought his heart was free. So -I married him. Then at the moment came a letter -from his home by the far southern seas. He read it, -his eyes widened with horror, and he fell senseless. -As I bent over him a man standing near caught up -the letter and read from it that the maid he had -loved was free and was calling for him. Then I -knew why he looked at me as he did. He did not -mean to do it. He was too good, too kind, too<span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">[307]</span> -noble. He would never have looked at me so again. -But I had learned the truth. He had no place for -me in his life or his heart. The surgeon at the fort -said he would soon recover. I thought you had -sent for me. So I left him to come to you. Nothing -else was left. But he did me no wrong. He did me -no wrong. He did me no wrong—” The girl’s -voice died away in inarticulate murmurs.</p> - -<p>The woods had grown very still. The dead leaves -rustled along the ground and the saplings murmured -as they trembled in the caress of the vagrant breeze. -But no man moved or spoke.</p> - -<p>Crouching upon the ground Alagwa waited, looking -up at Tecumseh with beseeching eyes.</p> - -<p>Jack groaned as he watched the anguish that -marred the exquisite oval of her face, stealing the -color from her cheeks and leaving them pallid -against the brown background of the woods. But -he was very sure that Tecumseh was not acting -without a cause, and he dared not speak lest he -should spoil some well-laid plan.</p> - -<p>Slowly Tecumseh spoke. “Alagwa knew not the -writing of the white man,” he said. “Lately she -has learned it, but then she knew it not. How knows -she that the man read with a true tongue? How -knows she that he did not lie? Was he so great a -friend of hers?”</p> - -<p>Alagwa sprang to her feet. Her hands tightened -till the knuckles gleamed white in the morning light.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">[308]</span> -“Friend!” she gasped. “He was no friend. He -was an enemy. It was he who murdered Wilwiloway.” -She paused; then—“Did—did he lie? -Oh! God! Did he lie?”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps!” Tecumseh pointed to a place on -his left. “Let my daughter sit beside me and hide -her face in her blanket and keep silence till Tecumseh -bids her speak.”</p> - -<p>Alagwa sat down. As she did so her eyes fell -on the draped figure at the great chief’s right. -From its folds two eyes gleamed at her, signalling a -message of comfort and of love. Telepathy was far -in the future—its very name was yet unborn—but -the girl read the message and was comforted.</p> - -<p>Then she straightened up with a gasp. Williams, -under guard, had come through the woods and stood -before the great chief. Jack remembered that he -had been missing since the massacre at the River -Raisin.</p> - -<p>The man’s face was drawn and pale. Clearly, his -captivity had not been light. Round him he glanced -with quick, furtive eyes, seeking hope and finding -none.</p> - -<p>Long Tecumseh stared him in the eyes. At last -he stretched out his hand, holding a soiled and -deeply creased letter. “This was taken from you -when you were captured,” he said. “Read it aloud. -And take care you read it true.”</p> - -<p>Williams’s eyes narrowed. Despite the chilliness<span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">[309]</span> -of the dawn, beads of perspiration crept out upon -his forehead. Furtively he looked around him, as if -fearing to see some accuser. Then he took the letter -and stared at it.</p> - -<p>“Read!” thundered the chieftain. “Read! -And read true!”</p> - -<p>Williams moistened his dry lips. At last he -spoke. “I don’t know how to read,” he mumbled.</p> - -<p>Jack leaned forward, every nerve tense. He did -not need to be told that the letter was the one -he had lost, the one from which Williams had read -the words that had sent his bride of an hour fleeing -into the night. Some disclosure was coming; he -read it in the trader’s frightened eyes and in -Tecumseh’s deadly mien. What would it be? His -blood ran cold as he waited.</p> - -<p>Chill as death came the great chief’s voice. -“Surely the white man errs,” he said. “A year -ago he read from this very letter a message from a -maid dwelling in the far south.”</p> - -<p>Williams’s courage deserted him. His whole figure -seemed to crumple. Clearly he remembered that -the Shawnees were Alagwa’s friends. “I didn’t -read nothin’,” he whined. “I was only jokin’. That -fellow Jack done me a dirty trick and he hit me -when I wasn’t lookin’ and I wanted to get even. -I reckoned he had a sweetheart down south and I -made up something about her and let on that it was -in the letter. I didn’t mean no harm. I reckoned<span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">[310]</span> -he’d get well and read the letter and make it all right -with the girl. How was I to know she’d run off -right away?”</p> - -<p>“You cur!” Heedless of Tecumseh’s possible -wrath Jack hurled himself at the trader. But before -his gripping fingers could fasten upon the -other’s throat the two braves stepped between, forcing -him backward. A second later Alagwa slipped -to his side and clasped his hand in hers.</p> - -<p>Absorbed in the scene none saw Brito Telfair -come through the woods to the edge of the clearing -and stand there, watching the scene with gleaming -eyes.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Tecumseh was speaking. “Tecumseh -does not kill prisoners,” he said. “He challenges -any white man to say that he has ever taken -vengeance on the helpless. He has spared even -snakes in the grass, lying and treacherous. But, -like the chiefs of all nations, Tecumseh punishes -murder.” He turned to Williams. “You dog,” he -grated. “A year ago you murdered Wilwiloway, -friend of Tecumseh. You shot him down without -cause, in cold blood, when he was making the peace -sign. For that I have doomed you. I have let you -live only that you might say what you have said -today. Now you die.” He waved his hand to the -guards. “Take him away,” he ordered. “Let -his end be swift.”</p> - -<p>The guard closed in, but the doomed man flung<span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">[311]</span> -himself at Jack’s feet. “For God’s sake don’t let -them kill me!” he screamed. “For God’s sake!” -He clutched at Jack’s feet. “Here’s your letter,” -he jabbered, forcing it into the other’s hand. “You -can show it to her and make everything right. But -for God’s sake save me. You’re a white man, not -an Injun. Save me! Don’t let these devils murder -me.”</p> - -<p>Jack’s fury died. The indefinable bond between -white and white, the bond that has lifted the race -above all other races of the world, tugged at him. -After all, Williams was a white man; murderer -though he was, he was a white man. Forgetful that -he too was a prisoner, a detected spy, Jack turned -to the chief.</p> - -<p>But before he could speak Tecumseh raised his -hand. “Tecumseh does justice,” he said. “He -does it both to his foes and to his friends. The -wrong this man did to Alagwa has been healed. But -the wrong he did to Wilwiloway has not been paid. -He is a murderer; he will die for it.” He waved his -hand. “Take him away,” he ordered.</p> - -<p>The guards plucked Williams from the ground -and marched away with him.</p> - -<p>Then Brito came forward, jauntily. He glanced -at Jack, and triumph shone in his eyes.</p> - -<p>“Great is Tecumseh’s justice,” he said. “Confidently -I appeal to it.”</p> - -<p>Not a muscle in the chief’s face changed. “Let<span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">[312]</span> -the servant of the white king speak,” he directed, -calmly.</p> - -<p>Brito’s eyes grew steely. “The hour that -Tecumseh fixed has passed,” he said. “I came back -to receive his word. I find with him an American -dog, dressed in the coat of the King’s soldiers. -Either he comes as a spy, whose life is forfeit, or -he comes to offer Tecumseh the price of treachery, -to buy him to desert the King and join the Americans. -Which is it? If he comes as a spy I demand -in the King’s name that Tecumseh surrender him to -me to be dealt with as a spy. If he comes to buy -Tecumseh let the red chief declare himself now.”</p> - -<p>Brito spoke boldly. Whatever his faults he was -no coward. Unflinchingly he gazed into Tecumseh’s -eyes.</p> - -<p>Jack’s heart sank. Every word that Brito said -was true. By all the laws of war his life was forfeit. -If the Englishman had not appeared Tecumseh -might have spared him for Alagwa’s sake. But -would he dare to spare him now and let himself rest -under the imputation of treachery that Brito had -hurled into his teeth? Jack doubted it greatly. -But he strove to meet his enemy’s eyes composedly -and not to betray the terror with which he waited.</p> - -<p>He had not long to wait. Deliberately the red -chief ignored Brito’s accusation. Coolly he answered. -“Captain Telfair asks justice,” he said, -slowly. “He shall have it. But the American chief<span class="pagenum" id="Page_313">[313]</span> -shall have it also. He came to Tecumseh’s camp -to demand his wife. Tecumseh will not slay him or -let him be slain. He has need of him. He will send -him back to his own people with a message to the -chief of the Seventeen Fires.”</p> - -<p>Hand in hand Jack and Alagwa waited. They -spoke no words; they needed to speak none. They -looked each other in the eyes and were content.</p> - -<p>Tecumseh went on slowly. “Tecumseh kept his -word once to his dead friend,” he said. “He is -under no pledge to give the Star maiden to the -American chief again. But”—the chief paused: -slowly his eyes traversed the startled group—“but -he may take her himself if he dares and if he can. -The Star maiden shall go now, at once, in the -British chief’s wagon, to the rear. There she will -wait.”</p> - -<p>The chieftain paused and pointed upward to the -sun, which was just climbing above the tops of the -trees. Then he faced Jack.</p> - -<p>“The day passes swiftly,” he said. “Go back -to your general and tell him that Tecumseh sends -him greeting as one brave man to another and challenges -him to combat. Tell him that the redcoats -and red men are united and wait to give him battle. -Tell him that—tell him what you will. You can tell -him nothing but what Tecumseh wishes him to know. -But tell him to hasten. Your way to the Star -maiden lies across my lines. Till sunset Tecumseh<span class="pagenum" id="Page_314">[314]</span> -will protect her. Afterwards, you must protect her -yourself. If you pass our lines you may clasp her -in your arms before the sun sets. I have spoken! -Go!”</p> - -<p>Brito had listened in silence. He attempted no -protest. He made no further accusation of -treachery. Instead, he bowed. “I am stationed -at the very center of the British part of our lines, -my dear cousin,” he said; “I will await you there. -Fail not—or it will be I who will clasp the Star -maiden in my arms this night.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_315">[315]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXIV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">TECUMSEH had chosen well the ground where -he had forced Proctor to stand at bay. The -River Thames, running between high precipitous -banks, protected his left flank, and a great -marsh nearly parallel to the river protected his -right. He could be reached only by a direct frontal -attack, during which the Americans would be continually -under fire. Midway between river and -swamp was a smaller swamp, almost impassable. The -only road ran close along the river; the rest of the -space between swamp and river was a park-like expanse -thinly set with great trees, beech, sugar -maple, and oak. Beneath them the ground was -bare, save where trees had fallen. Any enemy who -might advance across it must infallibly have his -columns broken and would yet be exposed to volley -fire, against which the trees would offer little or no -protection.</p> - -<p>Beyond this park, at the edge of a thicket of -beech, the British regulars were posted on a line -running from the river to the smaller swamp. Their -artillery was placed so as to sweep the river road. -Tecumseh and his warriors held the line between the -two swamps and along the front of the larger -swamp, ready to pour an enfilading fire on the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_316">[316]</span> -American flank and to charge upon its rear the -moment it pressed too far forward in its attack. -One false move, one error, and the disaster of the -River Raisin might be repeated. But this time a -real soldier was in command.</p> - -<p>It was long past noon when the American regiments -swung out of the underbrush that had screened -their movements onto the broad park-like expanse -that rolled to the edge of the beech wood and the -swamp where their foes waited.</p> - -<p>Over the sun-drenched fields and through the pleasant -woods they held their way, thrashing through -the tall grass, crushing the underbrush beneath -their columned tread. Their slanting flags, whipping -in the rising breeze, revealed the stripes and -the soaring stars and flaunted the regimental -symbols. On the right were the regulars of the -25th infantry, one hundred and twenty strong, grim, -well-drilled men who marched with a precision not -found among the volunteers. In the center and on -the left were the Kentucky volunteers, headed by -Johnson’s cavalry, burning to avenge the butchery -of their kindred at the River Raisin. Above them -the bayonets flashed back the sunlight.</p> - -<p>Steadily they advanced. The distance was still -too great for musketry fire, but it was lessening -every instant. The British howitzers, too, were -waiting, masked behind their leafy screen.</p> - -<p>A far-off report broke the silence. A mound of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_317">[317]</span> -white erected itself at the end of the river road and -a howitzer ball hummed along it. Along the edge of -the beech wood ran the crackle of small arms. From -the swamp on the left came the enfilading fire of the -Indians. A private in Desha’s regiment fell forward -and lay upon his face, motionless. A sergeant a -hundred feet away doubled up with a grunt.</p> - -<p>Steadily the volunteers swung forward to where -the westering sun shone red across the red and -yellow carpet that autumn’s winds had strewn. As -they marched they sang, at first low, then with a -swing that rose terribly to the skies:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">Scalps are bought at stated prices,</div> -<div class="indent">Proctor pays the price in gold.</div> -<div class="verse">Freemen, no more bear such slaughters,</div> -<div class="indent">Rouse and smite the faithless foe.</div> -</div></div> - -<p>Most of the victims of the River Raisin had been -Kentuckians; it was meet and proper that Kentuckians -should avenge them at the Thames.</p> - -<p>Jack was far in advance of the troops. Familiar -with the ground from his adventure of the night -before, he knew where to look for the enemy’s lines -and could venture nearer to them than any other -scout. He had left his horse behind, well out of -danger, and had crept forward on foot, closer and -closer, determined to learn in what order the British -designed to meet the attack. Nearer and nearer -he crept, flat on the ground, worming his way. At<span class="pagenum" id="Page_318">[318]</span> -last, beneath the shadow of the trees he saw the -crossed white on red that marked the British -soldiers. Detail after detail he noted; then, when -a bugle at the rear told him that the Americans -were advancing, he began to worm backward.</p> - -<p>At his horse at last, he leaped to the saddle and -drove the spurs deep, heading for the spot where -the ringing bugle was sounding the advance.</p> - -<p>General Harrison, surrounded by his staff, stood -watching. “Now’s the time,” he muttered. -“Trumpeter! Sound the——” He broke off, as -a scout came dashing toward him.</p> - -<p>It was Jack. “General!” he clamored. -“They’re in two lines in open order.”</p> - -<p>Harrison started. “In open order!” he cried. -“You’re mad.”</p> - -<p>“No! It’s true! I’ve been within a hundred -yards of them. It’s true! I swear it.”</p> - -<p>Another horseman wearing the shoulder straps of -a major dashed up. “General!” he cried. -“They’re in open order. I’ve just——”</p> - -<p>“Enough!” Harrison spun around. “By God! -We’ve got them! Mr. Telfair, tell Colonel Johnson -my orders are to charge home.” He swung around. -“Major Wood, tell Colonel Trotter the plans have -been changed. Colonel Johnson will attack on horseback -and the infantry will support him. Go!”</p> - -<p>Ten minutes later the Kentucky cavalry rode -into the narrowing neck between the river and the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_319">[319]</span> -small swamp. As they crowded in, the space grew -too small for effective manœuvres. Colonel R. H. -Johnson, afterward to be elected vice-president of -the United States, rode at the head of the left-hand -squadron, naked saber resting against his shoulder. -He noticed the constriction and called to his -brother, commanding the right-hand column. -“Say, Jim,” he cried. “You handle the British. -I’ll cross the swamp and tackle Tecumseh.” He -turned to his men. “Column left,” he ordered.</p> - -<p>Jack, defiant of the rule that bade him rejoin -General Harrison, once his message had been delivered, -had followed close at Colonel Johnson’s -heels. Now, he sped across to those of Lieutenant-Colonel -James Johnson.</p> - -<p>“Attention!” James’s voice rang above the -thudding hoofs. “By troops! Right front into -line. March.”</p> - -<p>The shimmering column broke up, dividing into -four. “Forward! Steady! Right dress. Forward!” -Quickly the orders followed.</p> - -<p>James faced about. “Advance rifles,” he ordered; -and the muskets rattled as they fell into -position.</p> - -<p>The woods in front were veiled in smoke. The -rattle of small arms was incessant. The screech -of bullets filled the air. Here and there a man fell -forward, clutching at his horse’s neck. Here and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_320">[320]</span> -there one swayed and crashed to the ground. Over -all the sunlight pulsed in bands of fire.</p> - -<p>Coolly James’s voice arose. “Hold your fire till -you can see the whites of their eyes,” he ordered. -“Then give ’em h—l.” He waved his sword. “Forward! -Gallop!” he cried.</p> - -<p>The pace quickened. The ground was becoming -more open and the enemy’s bullets were coming -faster. But the Americans did not fire. They -could not see the foe in the tangled thicket ahead -of them, and they had no shots to waste.</p> - -<p>“Form for attack! By fours! Right front into -line! March!”</p> - -<p>The columns broke up, changing, as if by magic, -into a long double line of horsemen, galloping toward -the smoking woods.</p> - -<p>“Forward! Remember the Raisin! Charge!”</p> - -<p>The trumpets sounded and from the crowding -horsemen rose a yell. “Remember the Raisin;” -loud and thrilling the cry echoed back from the -woods. The horses sprang forward, furious with -the battle clangor.</p> - -<p>Still the Americans did not fire. Their first -weapon was the running horse; against the enemy’s -lines they hurled him. Later they would use their -muskets and the long pistols that hung at their -belts.</p> - -<p>At the front rode Johnson. Neck and neck with -him rode Jack, heading for the very center of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_321">[321]</span> -British line. Not for all the devils in h—l would he -have fallen back an inch.</p> - -<p>For a moment blinding smoke filled his eyes. -Right and left ran the red flash of the British rifles. -Then he was among the trees, plunging through a -line of redcoated men, who reeled and ran, throwing -down their guns as they went. “Quarter! -Quarter!” The cry rang loud above the crash -of falling arms.</p> - -<p>Jack did not heed it. A second line, fringed with -flames, was rising behind the first. Midway of it, -through the smoke, he saw Brito’s face. At it he -drove. “Wait for me,” he yelled.</p> - -<p>But Brito did not wait. Before the rush of the -maddened horses the second line was breaking up, -dissolving into fragments. To wait was to surrender -or to die, and Brito had no mind for either. -Probably he did not hear Jack’s challenge. Certainly -he did not wait. As the line dissolved he -turned and fled, bending low upon his horse’s neck.</p> - -<p>Jack glanced neither to the right nor to the left. -His eyes were fixed only on his foe. For an instant -the roar of battle rose around him. Rifles flashed -in his face. Men struck at him with sabers and -clubbed guns. Then he was out of the ruck, crashing -through the autumn woods. Saplings lashed at -him with stinging strokes. Low-hung branches -scraped his horse’s back, dragging at him. Thickets, -seemingly impassable, broke before the impetus of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_322">[322]</span> -his rush. Then, abruptly the roar of battle died -away. The flickering rifle flames vanished.</p> - -<p>Then far to his left a second roar arose; Jack did -not know it, but it was Colonel Johnson and his -first squadron striking the Indian line, and it -sounded the knell of the great chief, Tecumseh. -Jack paid no attention to it; heart and soul alike -were concentrated on the rider whose red coat he -saw far ahead through the packed woods. Recklessly -he spurred.</p> - -<p>After a time the woods opened and he saw his -enemy clearer. He was gaining rapidly, too -rapidly. He was in no haste to bring his foe to bay. -His horse, a bright bay, bred in Kentucky and -brought north with Johnson’s regiment, had come -through the short, sharp battle without a wound -and was in perfect condition, well rested, and -capable both of long pursuit and of extraordinary -bursts of speed when need should arise. He knew -nothing of Brito’s horse, except the patent fact -that it was a big black that seemed to carry its -heavy rider with ease, but he had little doubt that -his own was better. Almost at will he could close in -and sooner or later he meant to do so and to balance -the long-due account between himself and Brito. -But he did not know where Alagwa was. Brito -did. Therefore Brito should lead him to her.</p> - -<p>For a long time he galloped on, keeping his distance<span class="pagenum" id="Page_323">[323]</span> -behind the fleeing Englishman, and availing -himself of every bit of cover to screen himself from -observation, though he had little fear that Brito -would suspect his identity. He guessed, what he -afterwards learned to be a fact, that nearly all the -British officers who possessed horses were using them -to escape; General Proctor, for instance, fled -sixty-five miles without a halt. If Brito should -see him he was far more likely to think him a brother -officer and to halt and wait for him than to suspect -that an American had dared to venture so far behind -the British lines even after the destruction of -the British army.</p> - -<p>The chase went on. The sun was dropping toward -the west and dusk was creeping over the -brown fields and low tree-crowned sandy ridges. Already -a veil of deep blue shadow lay on the land. -Soon it would be night. The moon, high overhead, -a pale ghost in the daylit sky, might or might not -illumine the darkness. Jack shook his reins and -his bay responded gloriously, cutting down by half -the interval between himself and Brito’s black.</p> - -<p>Steadily the fugitive drove on. Deserted farm-houses -swept by; thickets rose and passed; but he -showed no signs of stopping. Anxiously Jack -glanced at the darkening west. Soon he must bring -the other to bay or risk losing him. Could he have -judged wrong? Could Brito be merely fleeing to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_324">[324]</span> -save himself, careless of Alagwa? Could she be -already far behind? Jack’s heart sank at the -thought. Should he close in and have done with it?</p> - -<p>As he hesitated Brito turned abruptly aside, urging -his horse toward the crest of a low ridge that -rose to the north. An instant later he vanished -into the fringe of trees that crowned it.</p> - -<p>Jack’s anxiety swelled uncontrollably. For the -first time he used the spur, and the bay responded -nobly, turning into the narrow wood road that -Brito had followed and tearing up the slope and -crashing into the fringe of trees like a tornado. -He, like his master, seemed to guess that the long -chase was nearing its end.</p> - -<p>Jack leaned forward, listening with all his ears. -Sight no longer aided him and he could depend only -on hearing, and this availed him little. The snapping -branches, the hollow thunder of his horse’s -hoofs, the rustling of the night wind in the trees, -the laboring breathing of his own steed, drowned -all more distant sounds. Jack set his teeth hard.</p> - -<p>Over the crest of the ridge he passed and thundered -down the opposite slope. Then in a moment the -woods broke sharply off, opening to right and to -left, and he found himself on the edge of a wide, -open space in which stood a farmhouse. Before it, -just drawing his horse to a halt, was Brito.</p> - -<p>Jack halted, reining in and leaning forward,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_325">[325]</span> -every nerve thrilling. Was it the place? Had Brito -led him true?</p> - -<p>A crowd of men and women came pouring from -the farmhouse door. With staring eyes Jack -watched, counting them as they came. Two men, -five women, as many children, then—then—last of -all came Alagwa.</p> - -<p>Jack shouted aloud—a great shout that startled -the sleepy birds. He had found her. His hour had -come.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_326">[326]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap2">AT JACK’S shout Brito looked up. Then -he, too, cried out and settled himself back -in the saddle.</p> - -<p>Slowly the two rode toward each other, pistols -in hand. Between them lay the hard-trampled level -of the cattle yard. The sun had dropped behind -the trees; the moon had not yet gathered power; no -confusing shadows offered advantage to either.</p> - -<p>Suddenly Brito flung up his pistol and fired. -Jack felt his hat torn from his head and saw it go -sailing to the ground. He threw up his own pistol. -Then he hesitated; Alagwa and the women and children -were directly behind his foe. He dared not -fire.</p> - -<p>As he hesitated Brito flung down his useless pistol -and spurred at him, saber flashing as he came. -Jack reined back; his horse reared, striking with -its hoofs, and Brito’s black shied to the left and -rushed by, Brito’s blade singing harmlessly in the -air as he passed.</p> - -<p>The two men wheeled. They had changed places; -Jack’s back was toward the farmhouse. Again -he raised his pistol. His finger curled about the -trigger.</p> - -<p>Brito paused and his face whitened. Then he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_327">[327]</span> -cried out, jeering. “Shoot, you cur!” he shrieked. -“Shoot, you d—d American! Shoot an unarmed -man if you dare. No Englishman would take -such an advantage. This isn’t war; it’s a private -quarrel. If you’re not all cur, if there’s any Telfair -blood in your veins, throw down that pistol -and fight on equal terms like a man.”</p> - -<p>Jack hesitated. Brito had had his shot and had -missed. He was talking merely to save his life; -his taunts merited no consideration. Jack knew -well that he ought to shoot him down or take him -prisoner. He knew that the men at the farmhouse -were against him. Nevertheless, Brito’s words bit.</p> - -<p>He turned in his saddle. Alagwa was leaping to -his side and to her he handed the pistol. “Keep -those others back,” he ordered swiftly. Then he -turned to face his foe.</p> - -<p>It was high time. Brito was coming straight for -him. Barely he had time to spur his horse aside -and avoid the shock. As he leaped he heard Brito -shouting to the Canadians to shoot.</p> - -<p>Jack wheeled. The two Canadians had gone back -into the farmhouse. Now they were rushing out, -muskets in hand. Then Alagwa’s pistol settled on -the foremost and he heard their guns crash to the -ground.</p> - -<p>Jack saw red. For the first time in his life the -rage to kill seized him—a fierce, strong longing that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_328">[328]</span> -shook him from head to foot, a survival from the -fierce, bitter primeval days when foes were personal -and hate was undiluted. He snatched at his blade -and drew it from the scabbard.</p> - -<p>“You d—d cur!” he rasped. “You coward! -By God! You’ll pay now.” Wild as he was, he -was also cold as ice; in some men the two go together.</p> - -<p>Like most gentlemen of the day Jack had learned -to use the foils and even to some extent the saber. -But all his training had been with buttons, where -to be touched meant merely the loss of a point on -the score. Never had he fought a duel or used a -sword in anger, while Brito had done both. To -an outsider all the odds would have seemed to be -with the older man.</p> - -<p>But Jack did not think of odds. Like many men -in the moment of extreme peril, he felt supreme assurance -that victory was to be his. Before him -stretched the vision of long years of life and happiness -with Alagwa at his side. The coming fight -was a mere incident, not a catastrophe that was to -whelm him and her in ruin. Eagerly he spurred -forward.</p> - -<p>The two horses crashed, rearing and biting, and -over their heads the swords of the riders clashed. -Neither spoke. Neither had mind to speak or even -to think. Both fought grimly, terribly, well knowing -that for one the end was death. Stroke and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_329">[329]</span> -parry, parry and stroke; hot and swift the one -followed the other.</p> - -<p>For the most part they fought at close quarters, -but now and again the horses carried them apart. -At one such moment Jack glimpsed at the farmhouse -door and its group. The women had fled inside -and were peering from the windows; the children -had disappeared altogether; the two men, disarmed, -stood backed against the wall, under -Alagwa’s pistol.</p> - -<p>The crimson sunset had faded from the sky, but -the half-moon was glowing out, changing from its -daylight sheen to a silver glory that spilled like -rain upon the shadowy world. By its gleam the -fight went on, minute after minute.</p> - -<p>At last Jack began to tire. His arms drooped -and he began to fight on the defensive. He was -scarcely twenty-one; for twenty-four hours he had -not closed his eyes; for four days he had had little -rest and little food; for months he had been torn -with anxiety, more wearing than any exertion. -Brito had suffered, too, but his stress had been -national rather than personal. His muscles were -older and more seasoned, his arms more sinewy. -His attack showed no signs of slackening.</p> - -<p>Suddenly his eyes gleamed. He had noted Jack’s -growing weakness. His tongue began to wag. -“You fool!” he hissed. “I told you to keep out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_330">[330]</span> -of my way. This is the end. Tonight—tonight——”</p> - -<p>He disengaged and thrust, his blade singing -within a hair’s breadth of Jack’s throat. He thrust -again and the keen edge hissed through Jack’s -sleeve. Again he thrust, but this time Jack met -him with a parry that sent his blade wide.</p> - -<p>But the Englishman did not pause. His onslaught -became terrible. His sword became a living -flame, circling, writhing, and hissing in the moonlight. -Slowly he forced the American backward. -For the moment no living man could have held -ground against his fury.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_330.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">JACK TELFAIR AND CAPTAIN BRITO SETTLE THEIR DISPUTE</p> - -<p>Then suddenly, when Jack thought he could sustain -no more, the attack slackened. Flesh and blood -could not maintain its fury. Brito’s arm flagged -for a second, perhaps in order to deceive; then he -thrust again, upward, for the throat. Jack, worn -out, took a desperate chance. He did not parry -with his blade; instead he threw up his hilt and -caught Brito’s point squarely upon the guard. A -hair’s breadth to the right or to the left and the -other’s sword would have pierced his throat. But -that hair’s breadth was not granted. Brito’s blade -stopped short, bent almost double, and snapped -short. Brito himself swayed sideways, losing his -balance for the moment. Before he could recover -Jack rose in his stirrups and brought his blade -down with a sweeping stroke against the bare,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_331">[331]</span> -brown neck that for an instant lay exposed. Deep -the steel cut. Beneath it Brito stiffened; his sword -dropped from his hands; blood spouted from the -severed veins; he swayed and toppled—dead.</p> - -<p>Jack scarcely saw him fall. The earth swayed -round him in a mighty tourbillon; moon and stars -danced in the sky in bewildering convolutions; the -primeval trees beside the farmhouse rocked, cutting -mighty zigzags across the milky-way. Half-fainting -he clung to his saddle, while beneath him -the bay panted and wheezed, worn out by the -stress of the fight.</p> - -<p>Slowly the mists cleared. Out of them shone -Alagwa’s face, white, but glad with a great gladness. -Behind her the two men, crouched against -the house, their staring, terror-filled eyes glistening -in the moonlight.</p> - -<p>Jack’s fingers wagged toward the muskets at their -feet. “Give me those guns,” he breathed.</p> - -<p>Alagwa obeyed silently. He was in the ascendant -now. He was the warrior; she the squaw, docile -and obedient. Her hour would come later and she -was content to wait.</p> - -<p>The men shrank back as Jack took the guns, -muttering pleas for mercy. The women came -stumbling from the house, shrieking. Jack did not -heed them. He fired the guns into the air; then -smashed them against the corner of the house. Then -he turned to Alagwa and pointed to Brito’s horse.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_332">[332]</span> -“Come,” he ordered. “The fight is done. We -must go.”</p> - -<p>Silently Alagwa mounted and silently the two -rode up the slope, across the moon-drenched woods -upon the crest, and down the long backward trail -to where the British and Indian power had been -shattered.</p> - -<p>Jack did not speak. He dared not. A sudden -wondering panic had fallen upon him. He had won -his bride at last. He had won her with his heart; -he had earned her with his sword. He had shown -her the thoughts of his heart at dawn beside Tecumseh’s -fire; he had shown her the work of his sword -at dusk beside the farmhouse. She was his; he had -only to put out his hand to claim her.</p> - -<p>But he did not dare. Love had throned her immeasurably -above him. Scarcely he dared look at -her as she rode beside him in the white moonlight, -swaying to the rhythm of her horse’s pace, mystic, -strange—no woodland boy, no “sweet, gentle lady,” -no Indian maid—but all of these at once, all and -more, a woman, his woman, his mate, born for him, -foreordained for him since the first dawn that had -silvered the world. Speechless he rode on, glancing -at her from sidelong eyes.</p> - -<p>Alagwa, too, was silent, waiting. This was her -hour, and she knew it. But he must tell her—tell -her what she already knew. Not one sweet word of -the telling would she spare him. And the worse he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_333">[333]</span> -boggled the telling the more she would love him. -Love—woman’s love—pardons all but silence.</p> - -<p>At last Jack found his tongue. He spoke hurriedly, -gaspingly, trying to hide the ferment of -his soul. “The war here is over,” he said. “I did -not stay to see the end of the battle, but I know -the British power in the west is shattered. Most of -the army will go home. And we will go to Alabama. -Father is waiting to welcome you. I wrote him of -you and he wrote me that if I did not bring you with -me I might stay away myself. You will like father. -He is fierce, like yourself, and tender-hearted, too—like -yourself. Ah! Yes! You will like him and -you will like Alabama. Alabama! I told you once -what the word meant. It’s Creek: a-la-ba-ma, here -we rest. There we will rest. Later we will go to -France to see your inheritance—yours no more. -Father writes that Napoleon has confiscated the -Telfair estates. But we can spare them. Cato -will go with us—father writes that the two girls he -humbugged have husbands of their own and will not -trouble him, and that the third—the one he is fond -of—is waiting for him. Rogers and Fantine will -make a match of it, I think. He says now that he -likes to hear women’s talk. Tecumseh—I do not -know what his fate may be. But he swore he would -win or leave his bones on the field today—and he -did not win. I—I have read that letter; there was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_334">[334]</span> -nothing in it—nothing. I fainted because of my -illness and not because of anything I read.”</p> - -<p>Jack’s voice died. He had run through his -budget of news without broaching the subject that -lay so near his heart. Alagwa did not help him. -Silently she waited.</p> - -<p>The night was wearing on. The moon was sinking -into the west. Its fairy sheen lingered faintly -on the trees and the grass and dusty road that -stretched through the dew-wet fields like a band of -silver. High above, the multitudinous stars blazed -in the firmament. Silence reigned; no cry of bird -or beast sounded through the night; even the sound -of the horses’ hoofs was muffled in the soft dust. -Like spirits the two rode on through the enchanted -silence.</p> - -<p>Then, in slow crescendo, the tinkle of a far-off -brook blended softly into the beauty of the night, -blended so softly that its music seemed the melody -of tautened heart-strings. Slowly it grew till the -stream glanced suddenly out, dancing in the last -rays of the setting moon. Beyond it stretched an -open space, floored with fallen leaves, ringed with tall -saplings, silver edged, through whose leafless tops -the stars shone faintly down.</p> - -<p>The path to the ford was narrow. The two -horses crowded into it, crushed their riders together, -and at the touch Jack’s surcharged heart<span class="pagenum" id="Page_335">[335]</span> -found vent. “Alagwa! Alagwa!” he cried, brokenly; -and again, “Alagwa!”</p> - -<p>The girl swayed toward him. Her eyes, wet with -unshed tears, gleamed into his from beneath the -dark masses of her tangled hair. Then, in a moment -his arms were round her and her head lay -heavy on his breast. The horses halted, bending -their heads to the water that rippled about their -feet.</p> - -<p>Jack’s heart kindled in the swimming darkness. -His pulse beat madly in his throat. “Alagwa!” -he gasped. “Alagwa! Friend! Comrade! Wife! -I love you so! I love you so!”</p> - -<p>“And I love you!” Like a great organ note the -girl’s voice echoed the avowal. “Ah! But you -know it. You know I left you for your own sake—for -your own sake——”</p> - -<p>Closer and closer Jack drew her. The flood-gates -of his speech were broken up. Words, undreamed -before, leaped to his lips. “I loved you -then,” he breathed. “I have loved you always. -But the change from boy to man came too suddenly. -I did not know. I did not understand. It -took time—time and the touchstone of absence and -peril and agony—to teach me that I was a fool and -mad and blind.” He broke off, laughing with -wonder. “Fool that I was to tell you that I was -fond of you! Fool to prate of friendship! Fool -to match stilted periods when my every fibre was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_336">[336]</span> -thrilling, my every nerve quivering for you and you -alone. I knew it and yet I knew it not. I did not -dream that it was love that thrilled me. I did not -know what love was. But now I know.”</p> - -<p>The horses raised their heads, whinnying. -Slowly, high-stepping, they splashed through the -lambent waters of the ford and out upon the broad -bank.</p> - -<p>Jack leaped from the saddle and held up his arms -for his bride. “We are far from camp,” he said, -“and it is dangerous to approach it from this direction -in the darkness. The horses are tired; the -night is mild—and far spent. Come, dear! Come! -a-la-ba-ma; here we rest.”</p> - -<p class="center">FINIS</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="transnote"> -<p class="ph1">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p> - -<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p> - -<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p> - -<p>Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.</p> -</div></div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WARD OF TECUMSEH ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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