The Little Red Foot Part 82

We seated ourselves. If the Little Maid of Askalege, whirling in her dance, perceived us through her veil of living phosph.o.r.escence, she made no sign.

And it was a long time before she stood still, swayed outward, reeled across the gra.s.s, and fell face down among the ferns.

As I sprang to my feet Tahioni caught my arm.

"Remain very silent and still, my elder brother," he said gravely.

For a full hour, I think, the girl lay motionless among the ferns. The cloud of fire-flies had vanished. Rarely one sparkled distantly now, far away in the glade.

The delay, in the darkness, seemed interminable before the girl stirred, raised her head, slowly sat upright.

Then she lifted one slim arm and called softly to me:

"Nai, my Captain!"

"Nai, Thiohero!" I answered.

She came creeping through the herbage and gathered herself cross-legged beside me. I took her hands warmly, and released them; and she caressed my arms and face with velvet touch.

"It is happiness to see you, my Captain," she said softly.

"Nai! Was I not right when I foretold your hurt at the fight near the Drowned Lands?"

"Truly," said I, "you are a sorceress; and I am deeply grateful to you for your care of me when I lay wounded by Howell's house."

"I hear you. I listen attentively. I am glad," she said. "And I continue to listen for your voice, my Captain."

"Then--have you talked secretly with the fire-flies?" I asked gravely.

"I have talked with them."

"And have they told you anything, little sister?"

"The fire-flies say that many green-coats and Maquas have gone to Stanwix," she replied seriously, "and that other green-coats,--who now wear _red_ coats,--are following from Oswego."

I nodded: "Sir John's Yorkers," I said to Tahioni.

"Also," she said, "there are with them men in _strange uniforms_, which are not American, not British."

"What!" I exclaimed, startled in spite of myself.

"Strange men in strange dress," she murmured, "who speak neither English nor French nor Iroquois nor Algonquin."

Then, all in an instant, it came to me what she meant--what Penelope had meant.

"You mean the Cha.s.seurs from Buck Island," said I, "the Hessians!"

But she did not know, only that they wore gray and green clothing and were tall, ruddy men--taller for the odd caps they wore, and their long legs b.u.t.toned in black to the hips.

"Hessians," I repeated. "Hainault riflemen hired out to the King of England by their greedy and contemptible German master and by that great a.s.s, George Third, s.h.i.+pped hither to stir in us Americans a hatred for himself that never shall be extinguished!"

"Are their scalps well haired?" inquired Tahioni anxiously.

It seemed a ludicrous thing to say, and I was put to it to stifle my sudden mirth.

"They wear pig-tails in eel-skins, and stiffened with pomade that stinks from New York to Albany," said I.

Then my mood sobered again; and I thought of Penelope's vision and wondered whether I was truly fated to meet my end in combat with these dogs of Germans.

The Screech-owl had made a fire. Also, before my arrival he had killed an August doe, and a haunch was now a-roasting and filling my nostrils with a pleasant odour.

We spread our blankets and ate our parched corn, watching our meat cooking.

"And McDonald?" I inquired of Thiohero, who sat close to me and rested her head on my shoulder while eating her parched com.

"My fire-flies tell me," said she gravely, "that the outlaws travel this way, and shall hang on the Schoharie in ambush."

"When?"

"When there is a battle near Stanwix."

"Oh. Shall McDonald come to Brakabeen?"

"Yes."

I gazed absently at the fire, slowly chewing my parched corn.

CHAPTER XXVIII

OYANEH!

The problem which I must now solve staggered me. How was it possible, with my little scout of five, to discover McDonald's approach and also find Sir John's line of communication and penetrate his purpose?

On a leaf of my _carnet_ I made a map which was shaped like an immense right-angle triangle, its apex Fort Stanwix in the west; its base Schoharie Creek; the Mohawk River its perpendicular; its hypothenuse my bee's-flight to Oneida.

The only certain information I possessed was that Sir John and St. Leger had sailed from Buck Island to Oswego, and from there were marching somewhere. I guessed, of course, that they were approaching the Mohawk by way of Oneida Lake; yet, even so, they might have detached McDonald's outlaws and sent them to Otsego; or they might be coming upon us in full force from that same direction, with flanking war parties flung out toward Stanwix to aid their strategy.

One thing, however, seemed almost certain, and that was the direction their waggons must take from Oneida Lake; for I did not think Sir John would attempt Otsego in any force after his tragic dose of a pathless wilderness the year before.

I saw very plainly, however, that I must now give up any attempt to scout for McDonald's painted demons on the Schoharie until I had discovered Sir John's objective and traced his line of communications.

And I realized that I must now move quickly.