The Four Canadian Highwaymen Part 10

On the following morning the chief and Murfrey went away again; and in obedience to the command of the hag our hero, accompanied by The Lifter, who had instructions to shoot him if he attempted to escape, proceeded to a portion of the bush not far distant to cut firewood.

Although he had 'roughed it' for many a season in the woods, Roland was clumsy enough at the regular work of woodcutting. But taking off his coat he began bravely, and The Lifter swung his axe with a will a short way distant. After they had cut what would make about a horse load, they carried the billets upon their shoulders and threw them into a hole about thirty paces distant from that by which they descended to the subterranean abode. The pieces struck with a dull sound a considerable distance down; and The Lifter informed Roland that 'down there' was the wood-shed.

'But I suppose you are curious to hear sometheen about this underground place? All strangers are.'

'I am certainly much interested in it. I cannot conceive how your gang could have hollowed so large a place as this seems to me. Why, it has been an enormous task, requiring I should say a hundred men for many months to perform.

'Our "gang" did not make this hollow. But if you'll excuse me, I do not like the way you have of styleen our party. "Gang" isn't a nice word.'

'Who did the excavation then?'

'G.o.d,' replied The Lifter, with an a.s.sumption of solemnity that really was comic.

'Pray cease this blasphemy. I do not wish to hear any more of it. I am over-sick of this hypocrisy now.'

'But G.o.d it was all the same who did this; and I shall tell you how.

You know that River Rouge did not always enter Silent Lake at the place where it runs in now. It entered down there; see where that old beech tree stands.'

'But this makes the matter no clearer.'

'Well, you know, the ground here is very shaky, and the swamp beneath the sh.o.r.es of the trees is softer than porridge. A long time ago, during a heavy spring freshet, the river became dammed about a quarter of a mile from the lake, and the whole body of water was turned in another direction. But instead of flowing over the land, it sank into the great ma.s.s of soft bog below, and forced its way underground, till it reached the lake--there by that old beech.'

'The clay into which the roots of the trees had fastened themselves was quite solid, and was held fast in the thick tangle of roots. So for many years you could hear the river floween beneath the ground with a subdued gurgleen sound. Hunters avoided the wood, for some careless persons had come here and fallen through the holes into the rusheen tide. Their bodies were afterwards found floateen in Silent Lake. One day my grandfather and two of his men came to see the treacherous underground river; and they moved cautiously down the stream till they came where it sank into a hole in the ground, that looked like a huge sluice-way.

'My grandfather looked at the strange sight for a time, and then at the great bridge of trees and boulders that lay across the original course of the river. They wondered why he gazed at all so earnestly; and why his eyes grew so bright. Then he slapped the capteen, who was yet a boy, upon the back, and said:

'"Just the very place we want. Here we will have a quiet castle of our own, where no limb of the law can find us."'

'"But you surely would not think of liveen in this dismal swamp?"

they all said at once.

'"My intensheen is notheen else," he replied. "Let us go away for the present." Then they all left the wood, the young men wondereen what my grandfather had in his head. A few days after this, my grandfather and all his friends came with picks, and axes, and crowbars into the swamp. No one knew yet what plan he had formed.

Leadeen them to the bridge that I have described, he said:

'"I want that bridge cut away."

'"Why?" they all asked.

'"Can you tell," he replied, "what will happen when this bridge is cut away?" Then they fell athinkeen and my father said:

'"The stream will go by the old bed, and will run no longer under the ground." "Ah, father," the capteen shouted, "you are the wise one after all. We will have a first-rate castle under the forest in the stream's tunnel!"

'"Exactly, my son."' It was all quite clear to our hero now. For a full quarter of a mile did this tunnel, covered over with shallow turf, or a treacherous stretch of moss, extend.

'Well,' continued The Lifter, 'they waited till the tunnel became dry, and then they made a house and sleeping places underneath. The whole length of the tunnel was tested, and wherever they intended the roof should be strong, they propped it up; and those strong places they used as bridges.'

'Ah; it is plain now what the chief meant about all the unfortunate men who dropped through the swamp, and were never heard of more.'

'So he has been telleen about these. Yes; they came tumbleen down through the holes as they crossed, and they fell so sudden that they had no time to cry; and before they could know where they had got, we come along and killed 'em. In the night they were dragged out and put in the lake. I remember how tired myself and Silent Poll were with the heavy draggen. Then it was so hard to get stones that were heavy enough to keep the body under; and that you could tie easily.' While the toil of carrying the wood went on, The Lifter continued to describe many deeds of horror committed in the dark pit. In the afternoon, Nancy joined the two, and they examined the mouth of the pa.s.sage-way. But the casual eye would not have looked twice at the spot, for young trees were so planted at the edge of the lake, that their boughs thoroughly screened the opening. She informed our hero that the other end was filled in, and trees were growing where once the flood rushed down with the speed of a mill-race. The greater part of the autumn was spent in cutting and carrying firewood, and the chopping continued till the hag one day announced that there was 'plenty in now till next summer.'

'Be on the look out now for the treachery of the old woman and Silent Poll,' Nancy said when the chopping was ended. You can be of little more use now, and I am satisfied that you are marked for vengeance. I suppose you carry your pistols?'

'Invariably.'

'And your knife?'

'Likewise.'

'It is well.'

When not fis.h.i.+ng or doing laborious work, it was customary with The Lifter, as well as with our hero, to sit among the women and a.s.sist them in such offices as the peeling of turnips or potatoes; and holding the yarn skein whilst one of the women rolled the thread into a ball; or in scouring the knives and forks. One afternoon while all the men save The Lifter were absent, the group was seated round a small open fire. Hanging from the crane was a pot of fruit which the hag was boiling.

'Here Poll, ball your yarn,' the old woman said. 'You will hold the skein for her,' pointing to Roland. 'You may read a chapter from _d.i.c.k Turpin_,' turning to The Lifter. 'We will not want you, Nancy. Take a turn up stream and try to get a few fish for supper.

There, make haste now; don't stand there, you lazy jade.' Nancy, for some reason or another, had fastened her eyes upon our hero, and there was a pleading, frightened look in them.

Roland vaguely understood that she was warning him, but against what particular form of danger he could not define. Resolved to rea.s.sure her, he nodded his head in a meaning way, and said:

'Off you go, Nancy, and get the fish. We'll _take care_ of ourselves till you come back.' He laid emphasis upon the 'take care,' and somewhat at ease, Nancy departed.

As I have said, the old woman was standing at the pot, and silent Poll had so arranged the seats that while Roland held the skein upon his hands his back was towards her mother. The Lifter sat side-wise, and began to read _d.i.c.k Turpin_. For many minutes the reading and the stirring went on; when suddenly Roland noticed that the dull sc.r.a.ping of the 'slice' against the bottom of the pot had ceased.

Turning his head he met the eyes of the old woman; and observed that they were aflame with a wild sort of light.

'When I hears a chapter from that ere book it makes my blood get warm, and I thinks I am a young woman again. Attend to your holding, young man. You see the thread is slipping off your hands.' Roland did as he was bidden, but he could not help thinking of the marvellous effect that the story of Turpin's dare-devil deeds had upon her. 'A fit mother for highwaymen,' he muttered, meditating. At that moment The Lifter, who happened to raise his eye from the page, cried out:

'Look out, Roland!' Quick as thought our hero sprang to his feet, but in doing so received a terrible blow on the shoulder. Instantly he saw that The Lifter's warning had saved his life; and that the blow which he had received upon the shoulder was aimed at his head.

The hag stood before him with a short iron bar, used as a fire poker, in her hand; and her eyes blazed with a hate that was devilish to look upon. She approached him again with the bar uplifted, believing that he was stunned and disabled; but thrusting his hand into his pocket he drew his pistol and c.o.c.ked it.

'Advance a step, you infamous old murderess, and your brains strew the ground.' She was foiled and let drop her weapon. But for the h.e.l.l of rage that stormed within her she must have some outlet.

'Ah,' she screamed,' so you have turned traitor to your own;' and launching the bar at The Lifter's head, she knocked him insensible to the ground. The unfortunate wretch lay where he fell, without making a move, and Roland perceived that the blood welled from a wound in his head.

'So you warned him, did you?' she screamed again, and stooping she picked up the bar and raised it above his head. Roland well understood the murder in the old miscreant's eyes, and leaping forward seized the weapon, wrenched it from her grasp, and flung it far into the bush.

'Touch him not, or your miserable life will be the forfeit.' She made no reply, but simply scowled with the hatred of a fiend upon him. Turning then she resumed her work of stirring the fruit in the pot. At this moment Nancy, whose face was white with anxiety, made her appearance.

'Fetch some water from the spring,' Roland said, 'I wish to attend to his wound,' pointing to the prostrate Lifter.

'How has this happened?' Nancy enquired, in an anxious voice; though she was thoroughly familiar with such scenes of violence.

'This old monster here was aiming a death-blow at my head, and he warned me. This is her revenge; and she would have finished her work upon him had I not interfered. Don't go for an instant, Nancy, till I complete what I have to say, once for all: If this old woman,' and he poked her hard upon the shoulder with the muzzle of his pistol, 'ever makes an attempt upon my life again, I will shoot her like a mad dog, even though every robber of the cave were standing by. I shall be justified in doing this by every law. Killing is a game at which two can play; and kill I will the next person, be that person man or woman, who makes another attempt upon my life. Caution no one will ever find me to give again. Now, murderous old she-wolf, you understand me?' and as he concluded he gave her such a thrust with his weapon that she fell across the fire. With a scream Silent Poll arose and pulled the old woman off the burning sticks; but not before the crone's gown and ap.r.o.n had taken fire.

'Water! water!' screamed Silent Poll, for once boisterous.

'I shall get her none,' Roland replied. 'It is fitting that she should go to h.e.l.l in a blaze.' Nancy seized some slops that stood in a vessel near by, and throwing them upon the old woman, quenched the flames. The murderous hag was white with terror; and Roland saw that for all her cruelty she was a great coward. Her hands were badly scorched, nor did her face escape a singeing.

'Take me down to my bed, Poll; this villain, I am afraid, has been the death of me.' Taking her grandmother's arm, this precious wench led her tenderly to the cavern's mouth and down the ladder.

'You have conquered the old woman,' Nancy said; 'and it is well She is now in dread of you, and will not be likely again, unless her chance is sure, to attempt your life.'