CHAPTER XIII
Two hours later, Aunt Ursul and the minister were already deep in the forest, away from the creek, on a narrow Indian path, which was as well the path of the buffalo and the deer. But Pluto, going before the wanderers, with her broad nose near the ground and her long, restless tail wagging, did not follow the tracks of buffalo or deer. More than once she turned away from a fresh track into the woods, every time soon to return into the path.
"You see now, dominie, how well it is that I went back to fetch the dog on an occasion like this," said Aunt Ursul. "You were impatient at the losing of time, but we are well paid for it."
"It was not on account of the delay," replied the minister. "I was afraid that, in spite of our large circuit, they would guess our purpose. Both Lambert and Catherine looked at us with an expression which, as I read it, meant: 'We know what you are up to!'"
"They know nothing," said Aunt Ursul. "Why should I not call out the dog for my own and my old man's greater security?"
"Because nobody would really believe that you are so disturbed by fear."
"Well," said Aunt Ursul, "let them think what they please. Without the dog we should fail, and so let us push on."
"I am not quite sure that we shall so reach our end, Aunt Ursul."
"Are you already tired?"
"I tire not so easily, in such an affair, you know. But who can assure us that Conrad, in his anger and despondency, has not walked as far as his feet would carry him, which at last must be farther than we with our best will can go. And there is another possibility, of which I think with trembling."
"That my young man has gone over to them?" cried Aunt Ursul, turning so quickly that the minister, who was close behind, jumped back a step. "Do you mean that?"
"God forbid!" replied the minister, displeased at Aunt Ursul's question, and that by its earnestness his opened snuff-box was almost knocked out of his hand. "But he who lays his hand upon his brother, as Conrad has done, may also lay his hand upon himself. As far as I know Conrad, the last will be at least as easy as the first."
"You, however, do not know my young man," said Aunt Ursul earnestly, and she went on in more quiet tones: "See, dominie, I admit that the young man, at this moment, does not value his life more than a pine cone, but, notwithstanding, I would swear that he will sell it dear. And who shall pay for it? The French and their base Indians. That you may depend on. And see, dominie, that is also the reason why I am thoroughly convinced that he has not gone as far as his feet could carry him, but is somewhere here near by, and is keeping sharp watch over the house in which his parents lived, whose door-sill he will never again cross. He may keep his word, but be assured, dominie, if the enemy get so far they will have to come over his dead body."
Deeply moved, Aunt Ursul was silent. The minister, though not entirely convinced, thought it prudent not to express his opinion.
So they went on for some time in silence. The dog ran ahead, or out to one or the other side of the path, at one moment stopping and smelling up in the air, then again eagerly following a track. Aunt Ursul's sharp, knowing eyes watched every movement of the animal, and often she gently said: "Search, Pluto!--that is right, Pluto," more to herself than to the dog, for she needed little encouragement. The minister kept his eyes fixed on Aunt Ursul's broad back, and conversed with her when the path did not require all his attention.
This indeed was often the case, and soon the path became so difficult for their unaccustomed feet that conversation stopped entirely. Ever rougher and steeper became the ascent over the great roots of the old forest pines. Ever more wildly roared the creek among the sharp rocks, until at length in a deep cleft under overhanging vines it entirely disappeared from the wanderers. Following the dog, they now turned off to the right into the woods, and, laboriously going up a few hundred steps, reached the top of the plateau.
Here the minister, whose strength was nearly exhausted, would gladly have rested a few moments; but Aunt Ursul, with an expressive look, pointed to the dog, which with great jumps, as though full of joy, ran about a pine which stretched up giant-like in the midst of a little opening.
"There he lay," said Aunt Ursul, almost breathless from excitement and joy. "Here, in this spot, he lay. Do you see, dominie, the impression in the moss and the crushed bushes? There also is a torn piece of paper. Here he put a new load in his rifle. Further, dominie, further. I would swear that in less than half an hour we will have himself. Further! Further!"
The energetic woman shoved her rifle, which had slid off by her bending over, more securely on her shoulder, and took several long steps, as the dog, which for a moment had stood motionless with raised head looking into the woods, suddenly, with a loud bark and breaking through the bushes with great leaps, disappeared in the forest.
"Now, God help us! what then has the beast?" said the minister, coming up panting.
"Her master," replied Aunt Ursul. "Still!"
Bending her body she stared with great round eyes at the thicket in which the dog had disappeared. The minister's heart throbbed ready to burst. He would gladly have taken a pinch of snuff, as he usually did when peculiarly excited, but Aunt Ursul had laid her hand on his arm, and her brown fingers pressed harder and harder.
"Still!" said she again, though the minister neither spoke nor stirred. "Don't you hear anything?"
"No," said the minister.
"But I do."
A peculiar sound, half a call, half a sob, came from her throat. She let go the arm of the minister and hastened in the same direction the dog had taken. But she had not yet reached the edge of the opening, when the bushes separated and Conrad stepped out, accompanied by Pluto, barking with joy and jumping up against her master. Aunt Ursul could not or would not check her walk. She threw herself forward on Conrad's breast, who with strong arms embraced the good aunt, his second mother, bending his face over her shoulder to conceal the tears streaming from his eyes.
So the two stood, encircled in each other's arms, and the light of the evening sun played so beautifully about the handsome picture that the eyelashes of the minister became moist.
He stepped up gently, and, laying one hand on Conrad's shoulder and the other on that of his aunt, said heartily: "Here my blessing is not needed, but I must be permitted to rejoice with you."
"God bless you, dominie!" said Conrad, raising himself up and reaching out his hand to the worthy man. "This is handsome in you that you have accompanied aunt. I did not expect you, at least not both of you."
"Yet, Conrad," said Aunt Ursul, interrupting him, "why are you ashamed to tell the truth? You did expect me!"
"Well, yes," said Conrad.
"And I have brought him along." Aunt Ursul added, "because you know him from childhood, that he's a good and righteous man; and in such a case a man can speak better to a man than a poor woman like me, for the cuckoo knows how it looks in your hard hearts."
Conrad's handsome countenance darkened while his aunt spoke in this manner. His eyes looked angry from under his sunken eyelashes. However, he forced himself to speak with apparent calmness, saying: "I thank you again; but, aunt, and you, dominie, I beg you say nothing about him--you know whom I mean--and also nothing about her. I can't hear it and I won't hear it. It may be that I am wrong, but I have taken my stand and will take the consequences."
"Now," said Aunt Ursul to the minister, "you must open your mouth. For what else did I bring you along?"
Aunt Ursul was quite angry. She felt a secret sympathy with Conrad, and had at the same time an obscure feeling that, in his condition, she would think and speak and act in the same manner. She could say nothing more, in a case in which her heart sided so painfully with the one who was in the wrong.
The minister, in his excitement, took one pinch of snuff after the other. Then he sought unavailingly for the few remaining particles, closed his box, put it in his pocket, and said: "Conrad, listen quietly to me a few minutes. I think I can tell you something of which you have, perhaps, not so earnestly thought. Whether you are wrong in regard to your brother and the maiden--whom I to-day first learned to know, and who appears to be a good, brave girl--or not, I will not decide, nor will I examine into the matter. I have never been married, nor, so far as I know, in love, but once, and that so long ago that it may well be that I do not understand such things. But, Conrad, there are brothers whom we cannot renounce. There are father's houses which must be sacred to us under all circumstances. In the one case we are of the same lineage; in the other it is our home-land. On this account, to us driven away and thrust out--to us pressed down and shaken together by strangers in a strange land--must those relatives who are still left--must the country of our new home, be twice and thrice holy. And there is nothing, Conrad, that can release us from this duty; no strife with a brother, no wish to have a wife, no rights as to mine and thine, for here there is no mine and thine, but only our, as in the prayer we offer to God in whom we all believe. I know well, Conrad, that this feeling of holy duty has not died out of your heart; that, on the other hand, you will in your own way satisfy it. But, Conrad, your way is not a good one, even were you determined, as we all suppose, to sacrifice your life. I tell you, Conrad, God will not accept the offering. He will reject it, as he did Cain's sacrifice, and your precious blood will run down into the sand useless and unhonored."
The minister's deep voice had an unusually solemn tone, in this forest stillness; and as he now, on account of his emotion, which beautifully illuminated his plain face, was silent a few moments, it roared through the branches of the giant pines as if God himself and not a man had spoken.
So at least it seemed to good Aunt Ursul, and the same feeling was able also to touch the wild and perverse heart of Conrad. His broad breast rose and fell powerfully; his face had a peculiar, constrained expression; his eyes were fixed on the ground, and his strong hands, which grasped the barrel of his gun, trembled.
The minister began anew: "Your precious blood--I say, Conrad, precious, as all human blood is precious, but doubly precious in the hour of danger, thrice precious when it flows in the veins of a man to whom the God of all has given the power to be the protection and defense of those nearest to him. Moreover, Conrad, to whom much is given, of him shall much be required. The rest of us are only like soldiers in rank and file, and we need not be ashamed of it. But you are looked upon as holding a more important position, and I need only to mention it so that you may return to yourself. You will not shrink from a task that you and you only of us all are fitted for. Nicolas Herkimer has learned that negotiations are taking place between our enemies and the Oneidas; that they are only delaying their attack until a treaty is concluded, in order that then they may fall upon us with resistless power. You know that our holding of the Oneidas will secure to us the other nations on the lakes. You know that thus far they have been a wall to us behind which we felt measurably secure. You have lived for years with the Oneidas. You speak their language; you are highly respected by them; you know the way to their hearts. Now then, Conrad, it is the wish and will of Herkimer, our captain, that you go at once to them, and in his name, and in that of the governor, assure them of the yielding of all points lately in controversy between them and the government to their satisfaction, and according to their own views, if they will abide by the old protection and alliance which they entered into with us--yes, if they only will not take part against us in the present war. You notice and understand the proposition, so that I, a man little accustomed to such things, need not go into particulars. I now ask you, Conrad Sternberg, will you, as is your bounden duty, carry out the orders of our captain?"
"It is too late," said Conrad, with broken voice.
"Why too late?"
"What you fear has already taken place. The Oneidas have joined the French and the Onondagas. This morning--yes, an hour ago--I could yet have gone to them unobserved to bring about what you propose. Now it is impossible."
"How do you know it, Conrad?" asked the minister and Aunt Ursul, as if out of the same mouth.
"Come," said Conrad.
He hung his rifle over his shoulder, and now walked before them both diagonally through the forest, which was constantly becoming lighter until the tall trees stood singly among the low bushes. Here he moved carefully in a bent posture and indicated to the two by signs that they should follow his example. At last he fell on his knees, bent a couple of bushes slowly apart, and winked to the others to come up in the same way. They did so, and looked through the opening, as through a little window for observation in a door, on an unusual spectacle.
Beneath them, at the foot of the steep mass of rocks on the edge of which they were, there spread out a broad, meadow-like valley, which on the opposite side was encircled by precipitous, wood-covered rocks, and through it in many windings a creek gently ran. On the bank of the creek next to them there was a space covered with small, canvas-walled tents and lodges, standing without order. Between the tents and lodges there burned a couple of dozen fires whose rising smoke, glowing in the evening sun, spread out above in a dark cloud, through which the scene below looked more phantasmal. There was a mass of people in active movement--French, some regulars and some volunteers, many without any distinctive mark--and, in greater number, Indians, whose half-naked bodies, adorned with variously colored war-paint, shone in the light of the sun. The groups on the bank of the creek stood close together, and it was not difficult to discover the reason. On the other side, the band of Indians there gathered must have arrived recently. Some were engaged in putting up their wigwams, others were kindling fires. The most of them, however, stood at the edge of the creek talking with those on the other side. The creek, of moderate breadth, had washed out for itself a deep bed in the meadow-land, with steep sides. They could not well come together without bridges, and these were hastily made for the occasion with tree-trunks, while here and there the willful or eager swam across, or, trying to jump across and in most cases falling short, occasioned every time shouts of laughter among those looking on.
With beating hearts Aunt Ursul and the minister in succession observed the spectacle which had to them such a terrible meaning. Then following Conrad's whispered request, they withdrew as carefully as they had crept up, back through the bushes into the woods.
"How many are there?" asked Aunt Ursul.
"Four hundred besides the Oneidas," replied Conrad. "The Oneidas are quite as strong, if they allow all their warriors to be called into the field. I have just counted two hundred and fifty. Anyhow, the others will follow, otherwise they would find no preparations for the night."
"But will they go on at once?" asked Aunt Ursul.
"Certainly, for they know that the hours are precious. So you will doubtless by to-morrow noon have them on your necks."
"You?" said the minister impressively. "You should say 'We,' Conrad."
Conrad did not answer, but went silently and without turning into the border of the woods far enough from the edge of the plateau to prevent their being seen. After going about two hundred steps they came to a place where there was a deep ravine, which led from the heights above by a sort of natural rock-stairs into the valley. Above, where the stairs opened on the plateau, there was a narrow, deep-cut path entirely blocked by a cunningly devised obstruction of tree-trunks, stones and brush. Other stones, some of them very large, were pushed so close to the sides of the ditch that with a lever, or perhaps even with the foot, they could be slid of! on those coming up the path. It looked as if a dozen strong men must have labored for days to perform such a work. Conrad's giant strength accomplished it in a few hours.
"Here," said he, turning to his companions with his peculiar laugh, "here I intended to wait until the last stone had been thrown off and my last cartridge had been shot."
"And then?" asked Aunt Ursul.
"Break in two my rifle on the head of the first one that should come up into the narrow path."
"And now?" asked the minister, seizing the hand of the wild man; "and now, Conrad?"
"Now I will carry out the orders of Herkimer."
"For God's sake!" cried Aunt Ursul. "It would clearly be your destruction; the Onondagas, your enemies, would pull you to pieces!"
"Hardly," replied Conrad. "The Oneidas would not consent to it--at least without quarreling and strife. By this means already much would be gained, and thus I would keep them back longer than if I opposed them here, where I would in a few hours be killed. But I hope it will come out better. I would already have gone over to the Oneidas this morning, when they lay in the woods, but I had nothing to offer them. Now this is different. Perhaps I may be able to talk them over. At least I will try. Goodbye, both of you."
He reached out his hands to them. Aunt Ursul threw herself into his arms as though she would not again let her beloved young man be separated from her; but Conrad, with gentle force, freed himself and said:
"There is not a minute to be lost. I must make a wide circuit in order to come from the other side into the valley, and you have a long journey. The dog I shall take along. She can be of no use to you on the way home. Can you find the way without her, aunt? Now then good-bye; good-bye all!"
"In the hope of again seeing you," said the minister.
Conrad's face was convulsed for a moment. "As God will," he answered, in subdued tones.
The next minute they two were alone. For a moment they heard his retreating steps. Then all was still.
"We shall not see him again," said Aunt Ursul.
"We shall see him again," said the minister, looking at the purple clouds shining through the branches. "God helps the courageous."
"Then he will help him," said Aunt Ursul. "A more courageous heart than that of my young man beats in no human breast. God be gracious to him!"
"Amen!" said the minister.
They turned back on their homeward journey, back through the primitive forest, over which now the evening shadows were fast gathering.