The King's Arrow Part 26

Jean hastened to her side, and her eyes followed the woman's outstretched arm. Up on the dazzling, sun-crowned peak a wreath of smoke was ascending beyond the tops of the highest trees. It rose straight into the air like a tall shaft ere it spread and fell in wavy, fairy-like curls, and slowly disappeared from view.

"What is it?" the girl asked, feeling certain that it meant something important.

"Slashers come," Kitty explained. "Sam call Injun."

"Now I understand," Jean replied, while a great fear smote her heart.

"The slashers are near, and Sam wants help; is that it?"

"A-ha-ha. Smoke call Injun."

"Will the Indians see it?"

"A-ha-ha."

"Will they know what it means?"

"Injun know."

"But suppose there are no Indians near?"

"Plenty Injun see pu-kut. Beeg hill. Injun know."

"Will the Indians come?"

"Bimeby."

"In time to save us from the slashers?"

"Mebbe. Sam come bimeby. Sam know."

Curiously and anxiously Jean watched that signal flaring from the high hill. She asked Kitty many questions, and learned how in times of danger the Indians sent up the smoke-wreath from certain hill tops. At night a blazing fire was used, and in this manner news was carried many miles in a remarkably short time.

Several hours wore slowly away as the two anxious women kept watch upon the hill. When at length the smoke ceased to ascend. Kitty's face brightened.

"Sam come soon," she said. "Injun come bimeby."

"How do you know?" Jean asked.

"Injun mak' pu-kut. Injun say 'come.'"

"Did the Indians reply by sending up smoke? Is that what you mean?"

"A-ha-ha. Sam come soon. Injun bimeby."

And in this Kitty was right, for in less than an hour Sam appeared before them. He smiled as he entered the lodge, laid aside his musket, and helped himself to some meat from a pot near the fire. As he ate, he told about the slashers. They were not far away, and were waiting to make the attack that night. How he learned this he did not explain, and Jean asked no questions. It was sufficient for her that he knew, and she had great respect for his knowledge of the ways of the wild, and his practical common sense.

Slowly the afternoon edged into evening. The Indians were late in coming, and often Sam cast anxious glances along the sh.o.r.e of the lake.

Several times he made short journeys into the forest, lest the enemy should come upon them unawares. Jean, too, was greatly agitated.

Suppose the slashers should arrive, what could Sam do alone? What would become of her? She recalled Dane's words that night at Portland Point when he had saved her from Seth Lupin. "Do you know how beautiful you are?" he had asked. "If you don't, then you are not aware of your danger. That villain, Lupin, knows of your beauty, so he followed you here. The slashers and others will soon know, too, and I might not always be on hand." That was months ago, but she remembered every word. She thought then that Dane had spoken rather plainly, and had told him so. But she knew now how well he understood the risks she would run, and that he was speaking for her welfare. Oh, if Dane and the rangers were with her in the forest how soon they would put the slashers to rout, and take her home. But they were far off, so her only hope lay in the arrival of the Indians, from where she did not know.

CHAPTER XX

TEMPERED PUNISHMENT

Darkness came, and with it the long-expected Indians. They were a score in all, and they glided like spectres along the sh.o.r.e and up to the lodge in the thicket. It was a joyous greeting they received as they gathered around the fire, and for a few minutes there was a regular babel of tongues, although Jean did not understand a word that was being said. At length the visitors ceased talking and listened to Sam, who spoke with great earnestness, and motioned at times eastward.

That he was speaking about the slashers, and why he had sent for a.s.sistance, Jean was certain.

These newcomers were a st.u.r.dy and formidable band of hunters. They were of powerful physique, in the prime of life, and their faces inspired Jean with hope and confidence. They were clad in buckskins, and armed with muskets, hatchets, and hunting-knives. They were warriors now, ready for the fray with the slashers, their enemies of years. They were King George's men, as well, true and loyal. Several of them had the proud distinction of kneeling at Fort Howe five years before and taking the oath of fidelity to the King. They never wearied of telling about that event, and of the grand pow-wow which followed the signing of the treaty. It had been a notable time for them. After they had taken the oath of allegiance, they delivered to Colonel Francklin a string of Wampum as a solemn confirmation of their deed.

Following this there was great mirth when they had drunk the King's health, and received a liberal supply of presents. The next day they had been taken on board the man-of-war lying in the harbour, when they again drank the King's health, and were presented with a pound of gunpowder each. When they at last left for their wilderness homes, they were saluted by the cannon of Fort Howe and His Majesty's s.h.i.+p _Albany_, and they in return had given three huzzas and an Indian war-whoop. Such attention and good will had made a deep impression upon those who had attended the peace-parley. After that they were ever ready to fight against King George's enemies, and they did all in their power to convert the Indians who still remained rebellious.

The story Sam now told the newly-arrived warriors about the capture of the girl by the two rebel Indians aroused their wrath, and they determined to punish the cowardly Micmacs as soon as possible. As for the slashers, they hoped to settle with them at once, which would prove a warning to others. Occasionally they glanced at Jean as she sat watching them. They knew her history now, and they admired her, for Sam had told them of her courage on the trail, and of her bright, cheerful disposition. They were much interested, too, in the little arrow at her throat, and when Jean handed it to them, they examined it intently, and talked to one another in quite an excited manner.

Not for long, however, could the Indians remain at the lodge. There was stern work ahead of them this night, and Sam was becoming uneasy.

When he at length rose to his feet and picked up his gun, the visitors did likewise. They examined the priming of their weapons, the bullets in their pouches, and the quant.i.ty of powder in their powder-horns.

Finding everything to their satisfaction, they were about to leave the lodge, when Jean sprang to her feet and laid a hand upon Sam's arm.

"Don't kill the white men," she pleaded. "Drive them away, but, please don't kill them."

Sam turned and looked at her in silence for a few seconds. His eyes were filled with an expression of admiration for this fair girl. He was willing to do anything for her, but he knew that she did not understand the importance of the mission upon which he and the other warriors were bent.

"You won't kill them, will you?" she asked, noting his silence.

"Slashers bad," Sam replied. "Slashers hurt babby."

"I know they would if they got the chance. But can't you drive them away without killing them? Oh, it would be terrible if you should shoot them! You killed one man, and isn't that enough?"

Sam was in a quandry. He longed for the blood of the slashers whom he hated. This was a great chance to wipe them out of existence. Never before had he had such a just cause against them, and why should he not make the most of it? But it was hard for him to resist the request of the white girl. He turned to the other Indians, and spoke to them in quick, short syllables. They replied, but what they said Jean did not know. She could only hope.

"No kill slashers, eh?" Sam queried, turning to the girl.

"Please don't. Drive them away; frighten them, but do not kill them."

"Sam no say now. See bimeby, mebbe."

To Jean Sam was the very embodiment of good nature and gentle care.

And she had good reason for this high regard. But as a great bear has been known to bestow a remarkable affection upon a lost child, notwithstanding its savage nature, so it was with Sam. Could Jean have seen him that night as he led his score of followers against the slashers she would not have believed him to be the same Indian who had been so kind to her. The wild nature within him was aroused. He was on the warpath against a hated enemy. As he glided through the forest, his eyes glowed like living coals of fire, and his great body quivered with excitement. His companions, too, were intensely stirred. The slashers were against King George, and that was all-sufficient. Like weird spectres they moved through the night. Not a word did they speak, and not a twig snapped as their moccasined feet pressed the ground. Never did a girl have a more determined and thoroughly-trained body of men speeding forth on her behalf than did Jean Sterling that night in the heart of the great northern forest.

For a little over half an hour the Indians continued on their way, up hill and down, with no abatement to their speed. At length, after climbing a higher hill than usual, they paused on the eastern slope and held a low-whispered consultation. This took but a few minutes, and when they again advanced it was not in single file, but spread out to the right and left like two wings, with Sam in the centre. Down in the valley were the slashers, and toward them they moved, silently and stealthily as the panther stalking its prey. With bent, crouching bodies, and every sense keenly alert, they glided toward the unsuspecting slashers. Nearer and nearer they approached, and at length when the light of a camp fire winged its way into the forest depths, they lessened their speed, dropped upon their hands and knees, crept cautiously forward, and then stopped but a bow-shot away. Here they remained as silent and rigid as the great trees, keenly observing all that was taking place before them.

Near the fire about twenty-five men were gathered, talking in the most animated manner. They were an evil-looking group of creatures, dirty, unshaven, their clothes ill-fitting and torn. They formed the dregs of the wild, lower than the Indians and the dumb beasts of the trails.

They were parasites, a menace to law and order. Honor was unknown among them, and the purity of such a girl as Jean Sterling only aroused the base pa.s.sions within them. The rangers they feared, as well as the Indians who were loyal to King George. They were cunning woodsmen, subtle as the serpent, and sly as the fox. They were hard to catch, being in one place to-day, and miles away the next. When food was plentiful they were gluttons, but when it was scarce they starved for days. They had a craze for rum, and when drunk they were ugly, maudlin brutes. They were fond of a fight, and fought like demons on the slightest pretext.

Only one thing seriously affected them, and that was a superst.i.tious fear. It hounded them wherever they went, as is so often the case with low, base minds. They had signs many, in the heavens above and the earth beneath, and to these were slaves. Therefore, when they saw Seth Lupin lying dead on the bank of the river with the marks of the clutching fingers upon his throat, some trembled with fear, and glanced apprehensively around. It was the work of the devil, so they said, and they were anxious to leave the place. Others, however, scoffed at them, declaring it was none other than Sam, the ranger, who had been seen lurking in the vicinity that very day. These latter by threats had induced the fearsome ones to accompany them into the wilderness where they knew the supposed murderer had his abode. They could easily overcome him, so they believed, and carry off the beautiful girl. But it had been a difficult journey. They had lost their way, and floundered about in valleys and swamps. Fear still possessed the hearts of more than half their number, and time and time again they were on the point of turning back. But as Sam and his followers watched from the darkness of the woods, the slashers were in better spirits. They were to attack at midnight, and carry off the girl.

They discussed their plans for some time, and then curled up near the fire for a short sleep ere beginning the march.