The Little Red Foot Part 34

The night was still, save for a love-sick panther somewhere on the mountain, a-caterwauling under the June stars. But the distant and melancholy love-song and the golden melody of the stream pouring through its bowlders blended not unpleasantly in my ears, and presently conspired to lull me into slumber.

The mountain peaks were red when I awoke and spoke aloud to rouse my people. One by one they sat up, owlish with sleep, yet soon clearing their eyes and minds with remembering the business that lay before us.

I sent Joe de Golyer and Tahioni to relieve our sentinels, Luysnes and the Screech-owl.

When these came in with report that all was still as death on the Iroquois trail, we ate breakfast and drank at the river, where some among us also washed our bodies,--among others the River-reed, who stripped unabashed, innocent of any shame, and cleansed herself knee-deep in a crystal green pool under the Indian willows.

When she came back, the disk of blue paint was gone from her brow, and I saw her a-fis.h.i.+ng in her beaded wallet and presently bring forth blue and red paint and a trader's mirror about two inches in diameter.

Then the little maid of Askalege sat down cross-legged and began to paint herself for battle.

At the root of her hair, where it made a point above her forehead, she painted a little crescent moon in blue. And touched no more her face; but on her belly she made a blue picture of a heron--her clan being the Heron, which is an ensign unknown among Iroquois.

Now she took red paint, and upon her chest she made a tiny human foot.

I was surprised, for neither for war nor for any ceremony I ever heard of had I seen that dread symbol on any Indian.

The Oneidas, also, were looking at her in curiosity and astonishment, pausing in their own painting to discover what she was about.

Then, as it struck me, so, apparently, it came to them at the same instant what their sorceress meant,--what pledge to friend and foe alike this tiny red foot embodied, s.h.i.+ning above her breast. And the two young warriors who had painted the tortoise in blue upon their bellies, now made each a little red foot upon their chests.

"By gar!" exclaimed Silver, "ees it onlee ze gens-du-bois who shall made a boast to die fighting? Nom de dieu, non!" And he unrolled his blanket and pulled out a packet of red cloth and thread and needle--which is like a Frenchman, who lacks for nothing, even in the wilderness.

He made a pattern very deftly out of his cloth, using the keen point of his hunting knife; and, as we all, now, wished to sew a little red foot upon the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of our buckskin s.h.i.+rts, and as he had cloth enough for all, and for Joe de Golyer, too, when we should come up with him, I and my men were presently marked with the dread device, which was our pledge and our defiance.

The sun had painted scarlet the lower Adirondack peaks when we started north on the Sacandaga trail.

When we came up with our sentinels, I gave Joe time to sew on his symbol, and the Oneida time to paint it upon his person. Then we examined flint and priming, tightened girth and cincture, tested knife, hatchet, and the stoppers of our powder horns; and I went from one to another to inspect all, and to make my dispositions for the march to the Big Eddy on West River.

We marched in the following fas.h.i.+on: Tahioni and Nick as left flankers, two hundred yards in advance of us, and in sight of the trail. On the right flank, the Water-snake and Johnny Silver at the same intervals.

Then, on the trail itself, I leading, Luysnes next, then the River-reed.

Then a hundred yards interval, and Joe de Golyer on the left rear, Kwiyeh on the right rear, and G.o.dfrey on the trail.

"And," I said, "if you catch a roving Tree-eater, slay him not, but bring him to me, for if there be any of these wild rovers, the Montagnais, in our vicinity, they should know something of what is now happening in the Canadas, and they shall tell us what they know, or I'm a Tory! Forward! Our alarm signal is the long call-note of the Canada sparrow!"

CHAPTER XV

WEST RIVER

The Water-snake caught an Adirondack just before ten o'clock, and was holding him on the trail as I came up, followed by Luysnes and Thiohero.

The Indian was a poor, starved-looking creature in ragged buckskins and long hair, from which a few wild-turkey quills fell to his scrawny neck.

He wore no paint, had been armed with a trade-rifle, the hammer of which was badly loosened and mended with copper wire, and otherwise he carried arrows in a quiver and a greasy bow.

Like a fierce, lean forest thing, made abject by fear, the Adirondack's sloe-black eyes now flickered at me, now avoided my gaze. I looked down at the rags which served him for a blanket, and on which lay his wretched arms, including knife and hatchet.

"Let him loose," said I to the Water-snake; "here is no Mengwe but a poor brother, who sees us armed and in our paint and is afraid."

And I went to the man and offered my hand. Which he touched as though I were a rattlesnake.

"Brother," said I, "we white men and Oneidas have no quarrel with any Saguenay that I know about. Our quarrel is with the Canienga, and that is the reason we wear paint on this trail. And we have stopped our Saguenay brother in the forest on his lawful journey, to say to him, and to all Saguenays, that we mean them no harm."

There was an absolute silence; Luysnes and Thiohero drew closer around the Tree-eater; the Water-snake gazed at his captive in slight disgust, yet, I noticed, held his rifle in a position for instant use.

The Saguenay's slitted eyes travelled from one to another, then he looked at me.

"Brother," I said, "how many Maquas are there camped near the Big Eddy?"

His low, thick voice answered in a dialect or language I did not comprehend.

"Can you speak Iroquois?" I demanded.

He muttered something in his jargon. Thiohero touched my arm:

"The Saguenay says he understands the Iroquois tongue, but can speak it only with difficulty. He says that he is a hunter and not a warrior."

"Ask him to answer me concerning the Maqua."

A burst of volubility spurted from the prisoner.

Again the girl translated the guttural reply:

"He says he saw painted Mohawks fis.h.i.+ng in the Big Eddy, and others watching the trail. He does not know how many, because he can not count above five numbers. He says the Mohawks stoned him and mocked him, calling him Tree-eater and Woodp.e.c.k.e.r; and they drove him away from the Big Eddy, saying that no Saguenay was at liberty to fish in Canienga territory until permitted by the Canienga; and that unless he started back to Canada, where he belonged, the Iroquois women would catch him and beat him with nettles."

As Thiohero uttered the dread name, Canienga, I could see our captive shrink with the deep fear that the name inspired. And I think any Iroquois terrified him, for it seemed as though he dared not sustain the half-contemptuous, half-indifferent glances of my Oneidas, but his eyes s.h.i.+fted to mine in dumb appeal for refuge.

"What is my brother's name?" I asked.

"Yellow Leaf," translated the girl.

"His clan?"

"The Hawk," she said, shrugging her shoulders.

"Nevertheless," said I, very quietly, "my Saguenay brother is a man, and not an animal to be mocked by the Maqua!"

And I stooped and picked up his blanket and weapons, and gave them to him.