Donald McElroy, Scotch Irishman Part 17

CHAPTER XVI

A June sky and a resplendent sun, undimmed by cloud or mist, beamed upon the camp next morning, as we made last preparations for our departure.

Those of the men who had been detailed to "stay by the stuff," at the block-house, were plainly dissatisfied, now that they realized that they were to be left out of the adventures and chances, as well as the toils and dangers of our enterprise. Those who had made the bolder choice were as eager as boys starting on a first bear hunt. The uncertainty as to what might befall us, the unknown country we must traverse, the very dangers we would probably encounter, all lent mystery and excitement to our undertaking.

The entire population of the settlement, and all the block-house garrison were a.s.sembled on the river bank to say good-by to us. The women were in tears, the men quiet and serious; we, on the contrary, were hilarious with excitement.

Colonel Clark again addressed the men in words stirring and heroic, and the command to embark was given. Company by company we stepped upon the flat boats, and drifted rapidly down the Ohio to the falls, each raft guided by a skilled poleman, who stood erect, steering carefully for the one channel through which we could safely shoot the falls. The crowd on the bank was still cheering the last boat load, as the first dropped over the edge of the rapids. At that moment the sun, which had beamed less fiercely for some time, though in our engrossment we had taken little notice of the fact, became suddenly obscured, and the dimness of twilight fell upon gliding river, green banks, and tumbling falls. One could scarcely recognize the faces of his companions beside him in the boat, nor the polemen see to steer. The cheering ceased, and over man, beast and nature fell an awesome stillness. The birds in the branches of the overhanging trees ceased their glad caroling, the insects their buzzing, the fish their plunging, even the hurrying river seemed hushed into a more subdued murmur, and the noise of the falls to subside into a m.u.f.fled roar.

The men in my boat drew in their breath; one uttered a stifled sigh, another a low moan; and I realized that a word might precipitate a panic. I stood up and studied the sky for explanation of the phenomenon.

The sun held his wonted place in a cloudless sky, but over his radiant face lay a black disc, leaving only a bright rim upon one edge.

"It is an eclipse, comrades," I called, in my loudest tones, "an eclipse of the sun. I take it for a good sign--symbol of what we shall do for autocratic power upon this continent, only that will be a lasting, as well as a total, eclipse."

My words had magic effect upon the men in our boat, and in the two others near enough to hear my words. Clark must have said something similar to those in his, and adjacent boats, for I saw him spring to his feet, pointing to the sun, and simultaneously with our shouts of "Eclipse, eclipse! good sign, good omen! Thus we'll blot out the forts in the northwest," came like cries from the other boats, and answering cheers from the bank. So the ominous portent, as it seemed at first, was changed into a symbol of encouragement.

Often since, I have thought of this incident, which seems to ill.u.s.trate the way life should be met. Allow ourselves to be discouraged by apparent auguries of failure, and we will turn our backs upon success, when our feet are already pressing its threshold; yet such signs read by the light of a steadfast purpose, and a courageous heart, may become but prophecies of victory, and encouragement to more strenuous effort.

Our journey down the river was as rapid and uneventful as the most hopeful of us could have asked; we reached the mouth of the Tennessee without a single adventure worth recording. On the way, however, Colonel Clark had learned a most cheering piece of news, and one momentous to our undertaking. The rumored French alliance was made public, and France had promised liberal and immediate aid of men, money, and a fleet. That night when we had disembarked at the mouth of the Tennessee, after we had tied up the boats, and killed and cooked our suppers, Clark a.s.sembled the men, and announced the joyous intelligence he had received, pointing out all the fortunate consequences to our expedition to be expected from the French alliance. This was all that was needed to give the men a.s.surance of success, and to make them ready to brave everything.

Next morning we shouldered all the ammunition we could march under, and set out for Kaskaskia. We were still following the river, when, an hour after starting, we hailed a boat load of hunters. They proved to be Americans--a new appellation among us--but eight days out from Kaskaskia, and after a conversation between them and Colonel Clark, one of them, a certain John Saunders, consented to act as our guide through the Illinois country, with which he professed to be perfectly familiar.

This solved our one difficulty, for until now we had lacked a guide.

With light hearts we resumed our tramp across prairie, marsh, and forest, seeing victory within our grasp--renown and wealth as the individual reward of each, and for our country extended dominion, and added glory.

Good luck continued to attend us, while six more days pa.s.sed. We had fine weather and made good progress, considering the unbroken; wilderness through which our route lay. Time was most precious, for everything depended upon our reaching Kaskaskia before any rumors of our approach should get to the ears of the commandant. Signs of lurking Indians, pointed out from time to time by Givens and Saunders, made the least enthusiastic among the men eager to hurry on; but these filled Thomas and me with impatience, because even Givens discouraged our wish to seek out their camps, and to question them in regard to Ellen. It would be foolhardiness, declared Givens, and result only in our being ambushed--he'd find "the gal" fast enough for us when once we were safe behind the walls of a fort, and could kill the "redskin devils" at our leisure.

On the eighth morning, Saunders spread consternation among us by the announcement that he was lost--that he did not know where we were, nor could he recognize a single landmark. The night before we had seen the smoke from a distant camp fire, which Saunders said he doubted not was that of some roving Miamis or Kickapoos. This fact made our predicament the more serious. At once a halt was called, and Clark sternly declared to the confused Saunders--who was half suspected of treachery by us all--that unless he quickly found the way, he might prepare for instant death. It was not possible, Givens declared, in his slow, emphatic dialect, for a scout and woodsman to lose his way in a country he had once traveled over, and Saunders had either lied to us in the first place, or was laying a trap for us now; therefore all were ready to back Colonel Clark in his evident resolve to make short work of the suspected traitor, unless he speedily found himself. Saunders saw that his doom was sealed if he could not quickly regain his bearings, and went to work desperately, closely attended by two guards, retracing our way for some distance, examining sky, stream and trees, then climbing to the tops of the tallest to overlook the landscape.

The men sat about smoking dejectedly, or muttering their suspicions to each other. Meantime I grew restless, and the sight of the anxious face of Saunders, and the stern face of Clark, oppressed me. So I picked up my rifle, and plunged into the forest which fringed the higher ground stretching eastward. A small stream flowing out of the woods promised either spring or pond, and possibly rare game, within. As I started I called to Givens asking him to sound his turkey yelper should they resume the march before my return.

The shade and freshness of the woods was most grateful and the tangle of well laden blackberry bushes in a more open s.p.a.ce beguiled me to stop and pluck some of the fruit. The spring found, I looked about for signs of game, but seeing none, propped my rifle against a tree, laid flat down upon my chest, and buried my face in the limpid sweetness of the pure, cool water. I drank till satisfied, then fell to dreaming. The same scenes under different aspects came to me always in my day visions, or night dreams--pictures of home, recollections of my childhood, and occasionally some scenes from those few weeks of dissipation in Philadelphia, with Nelly's witching face, swimming, amidst my memories.

But I liked the home scenes best, and next to seeing them in the flesh, was the happiness of closing my eyes, and conjuring up visions of my mother, of Jean, and of Ellen.

What a glad day it would be when, Ellen having been found, and our country's independence won, Thomas and I could go home and settle down to peace and happiness!

Peace and happiness! Would it be ours after all, so long as Aunt Martha set herself, in her narrow bigotry, to persecute Ellen? so long as there was estrangement between husband and wife, mother and son in my uncle's family? So tenderhearted was my mother, so loyal to her sister, that even we could not be a happy family while there was discord and unhappiness in Aunt Martha's--for mother was our happiness barometer, and the family atmosphere went up or down with her feelings. But mother should adopt Ellen, and we would make her happy, and Aunt Martha ashamed of her harshness and the narrowness of her religion.

Then and there I vowed a new crusade. I must be a soldier always, fighting upon one arena or another for some principle of human liberty--for the love of liberty and a fervent zeal for it had, from long meditation and some sacrifices in its cause, gotten into my blood, and become a part of my nature. When this war against autocratic rule should be ended I would take my stand by Mr. Jefferson, and give all my time and energies to the brave fight he was making for entire and universal religious liberty. Deeper and deeper had I plunged into the trackless wilderness of my own thoughts, till I was lost to consciousness of the place, the hour and myself.

Perhaps I had been dimly conscious of some slight movement in the bushes behind me--afterward I remembered being subtly disturbed by it, and of lifting my head to listen--but the first sounds that really aroused me were the short explosion of a rifle, followed, almost instantly, by the whistle of a bullet cutting its way through the still air, and then, scarcely a second later, a wild weird whoop, close beside me, which caused me to spring to my feet, and turned me in its direction, as if I had been an automaton. There, beside the tree, against which I had leaned, was stretched the quivering body of a dying Indian. One hand still grasped a tomahawk, while the other clutched frantically at the leaves and gra.s.ses. A last quiver and he was still, his set eyes staring into the branches, rustling softly above him.

It was all a mystery to me. Where had the Indian come from? Who had shot him? I stood an instant gazing down upon the still savage in dumbfounded amazement, then took my rifle and started back to the men in search of an explanation of it all. Presently I overtook Givens' foster son, who was hurrying forward as fast as he could. I caught up with him, halted him, and asked if he had shot the Indian. He did not answer, and only pulled his cap farther over his eyes. I took his rifle, and looked into the bore of it; it was warm, empty, and smelled strongly of powder.

"Givens," I said planting myself before him, and holding out my hand, "you have just saved my life, doubtless. Won't you let me thank you?"

The beardless lips of the lad, about all I could see of his face under his wide brimmed cap, curved into a half smile, and he said, in m.u.f.fled voice, his head still on his chest:

"The savage had just poised his tomahawk for a blow when I saw him."

"You acted most promptly," I answered; "he might have brought a whole tribe down upon us, so that you have perhaps saved the entire band, as well as Donald McElroy." I continued to talk, to praise his coolness, readiness, and marksmans.h.i.+p, and to repeat my thanks, but I got no more out of the lad and it was so evident that I embarra.s.sed and annoyed him that presently I walked on and left him to follow. He seemed affected with a painful shyness, and apparently preferred solitude to the most flattering society.

No immediate opportunity was given me to tell Givens of his boy's kindly deed, for, just as I joined him and Colonel Clark, talking earnestly together, Saunders, still attended by his guards, came running toward us, waving his arms, and shouting joyously. He had found a landmark, and knew our locality! We were but a day's march from Kaskaskia, and the way was safe and open!

CHAPTER XVII

"Comrades," said Clark the next morning, just as we were falling into line of march, "have you remembered the day? It is the fourth of July, my men--the anniversary of our Declaration of Independence, the birthday of our liberties--day propitious in the history of the United States of America! Our guide tells me that we are but six leagues from Kaskaskia, and I have already planned our attack. Bloodless victory awaits us--for I can rely on each man of you to do only and all that is expected of him. We will march within half a mile of the fort this morning, conceal ourselves in the woods until dark, and, then, dividing into two companies, we will rush into the town from opposite ends, shouting and brandis.h.i.+ng our knives.

"I am told that the minds of the French in this region have been filled with terror of the bordermen by horrid tales of our ruthless cruelty; we may as well take advantage of this impression to overawe them. Perhaps we may prevent bloodshed by producing astonishment and terror in the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of the garrison and citizens. We have no quarrel with the French, but are concerned rather with winning them peaceably to our side. After a night of fear--but you must remember, men, that we wish to arouse apprehension alone, and that a single deed of violence or rapine may ruin all--the reaction will be the greater, and our liberal terms of amnesty the more gratefully accepted. As we lie in ambush this afternoon, you will preserve the strictest silence, and not a man must venture out of hiding till the command to advance be given. Carry out this plan successfully, and Kaskaskia is ours to-morrow, and Virginia's forever!"

Cheers rent the air, and the more enthusiastic waved their caps over their heads, and shook each other's hands, as if victory were already ours.

The town lay dark and silent under the stars, as our two bands circled it, and simultaneously marched down the princ.i.p.al street from opposite directions, yelling, and brandis.h.i.+ng our unsheathed hunting knives, as demon-wise as the worst of savages.

"The Long-Knives! The Long-Knives!" shouted the people upon the streets, running from house to house to spread the alarm, while women and children screamed, doors were slammed and barred within, and lights extinguished everywhere. Gradually the pandemonium of shrieks, shouts, and screams subsided into a hush of fearful expectation, during which Givens and Saunders, each of whom could speak a little French, marched captured citizens from door to door, before which they required them to announce in loud tones that the general in command of the Long-Knives had decreed that all citizens of Kaskaskia who should remain quietly within their houses would be unmolested, but that all who ventured out would be summarily dealt with.

M. Rocheblave, the commandant, was surprised in his bed-chamber, and taken prisoner. His wife, a pretty, voluble Frenchwoman, went into hysterics, and begged piteously for their lives in broken English, much mixed with French words, and interpreted with expressive gestures.

Colonel Clark a.s.sured her, as best he could, that no harm would be done them, and then bade me search the apartment for papers while he stood guard in the doorway. Meantime the Commandant and Madame looked on, the latter regaining her composure, and seating herself on a small trunk, from which she watched my proceedings with smiling scorn. I searched everywhere, upsetting furniture, and even ripping open the feather beds, but few papers were found, and they of slight importance. The trunk which Madame seemed to be guarding was, evidently, the receptacle for the more important doc.u.ments.

"Madame," I said, approaching her, and taking her gently by the arm, "I must search this trunk also."

But she held her place firmly, and, in better English than she had yet spoken, heaped reproaches upon me, saying that "no man worthy of the name would invade the privacy of a woman's personal belongings." Then she began to weep and to wail, and to entreat Clark piteously.

"Let her alone, McElroy," said Clark, at last; "we cannot use violence to a woman," so we marched off with our prisoner, the Commandant, and left the little Frenchwoman to destroy his papers at her leisure.

"I tell you, McElroy," said Clark, "I'd rather face a battalion, or storm a battery, than to encounter another hysterical Frenchwoman."

During the night we took possession of the ungarrisoned fort--a disused warehouse, which had served as fort since the burning of the old one--and Colonel Clark issued strict commands that only the officers and such soldiers as he should detail to guard the town from time to time, must leave the fort until further orders. By this ruse the citizens were deceived for weeks as to our real strength, their imagination readily using such adroit hints as Colonel Clark threw out to magnify our force into a strong army of invasion, and the squad left at Corn Island, into large reinforcements, expected in a few days.

All night guards patrolled the streets. The inhabitants, however, obeyed orders strictly, and did not venture forth next morning until permission was given them, with the information that the fort and the town were in our possession, and M. Rocheblave a prisoner.

Their distressed faces presented a strong contrast to the cheerful scene which greeted our eyes with the beaming sunlight of the morning.

Kaskaskia, situated on the right bank of the Kaskaskia or the Okan River, six miles above its confluence with the Mississippi, was then a village of two hundred and fifty houses, situated on a beautiful and rolling peninsula. The velvet verdure of the plain, dotted with little groves of pecan, maple, ash, and b.u.t.ton-wood, the gla.s.sy surface of the idle river, the lofty hill opposite, with its stately forest, the air scented with the fragrance of its wild flowers, the little springs gus.h.i.+ng from its sides in sparkling beauty, all reposing in the lap of nature, with their virgin freshness yet upon them--there was a landscape to charm her most capricious lover. We gazed enchanted on the fair picture and felt that we had reached a Canaan, rich reward for all we had dared and endured.

Presently came the priest to Colonel Clark, asking that the people be allowed to a.s.semble once more in the church to say to each other a last farewell before leaving their homes, and separating forever. "Theirs,"

he said, "was the fortune of war, and they made no murmur--since an all wise G.o.d had willed it so. Nor could they complain of their conquerors, who so far had treated them with unexampled consideration. They had but one other favor to ask--that the men might not be separated from their wives and their little ones."

Doubtless all the night through the woeful fate of the hapless Acadians had been present to the anxious minds of the people, who were expecting for themselves, as the best to be hoped, a similar fate.

When the priest's words had been translated to Colonel Clark by Saunders, he answered with a winning smile, and a convincing air of friendliness:

"Monsieur Gibault, we have nothing whatever against your religion, nor against the citizens of Kaskaskia. a.s.semble your people in church when and for what purpose you will; wors.h.i.+p G.o.d freely, as your consciences dictate. It is to win freedom of belief and personal liberty for all the inhabitants of this broad continent we have taken up our arms. But we came not to fight against the French; our quarrel is against King George of England. And why should the citizens of Kaskaskia, for the sake of being loyal to a power which has but lately subdued them, desert their comfortable homes, and wander forth again into the wilderness? Why should they not make peace, and live in harmony with the allies of their father land? Have they not heard the great news--that France and America have formed a close alliance--that a French fleet and a French army are on their way to help us fight the armies who have invaded us because we would not submit to tyranny and injustice? Does not this alliance absolve the citizens of Kaskaskia from all allegiance to England? Is not blood thicker than treaties forced upon a people at the point of the sword?

"No! M. Gibault, there is no necessity for your flock to bid each other farewell, and scatter into the wilderness to fall prey to wild beast and cruel savage! Remain peacefully in your homes! swear allegiance to Virginia! conclude with us the same alliance that France has lately entered into with the United States of America, and not a drop of blood need be shed, not a man, woman, or child need leave his home, nor resign either his religion, nor a franc's worth of his lawful property! We will pledge ourselves to secure your safety, and to maintain you in the enjoyment of all the rights and privileges of American citizens!"

The gentle face of the priest pa.s.sed from distressful entreaty, through all the varying expressions of surprise, doubt, conviction, relief, and rapture, as Colonel Clark's speech, phrase by phrase, was interpreted to him. He poured out fervid and voluble thanks, called down Heaven's blessing upon such merciful conquerors, and repaired quickly to the church to spread the glad news among his flock.