THE PLAN OF THE CAMPAIGN.
The night was black, gloomy, and storm-laden. The wind howled with a mournful murmur through the branches; at each gust the trees shook their damp crowns, and sent down showers, which pattered on the shrubs. The sky was of a leaden hue; so great was the silence in the desert, that the fall of a withered leaf, or the rustling of a branch touched in its passage by some invisible animal, could be distinctly heard.
Ivon and his guides advanced cautiously through the forest, seeking their road in the darkness, half lying on their horses, so as to avoid the branches that lashed their faces at every moment. Owing to the endless turns they were compelled to take, nearly two hours elapsed ere they left the forest. At length they debouched on the plain, and found themselves almost simultaneously on the banks of the Missouri. The river, swollen by rain and snow, rolled along its yellowish waters noisily. The fugitives followed the bank in a south-western direction. Now that they had struck the river, all uncertainty had ceased for them; their road was so distinctly traced that they had no fear of losing it.
On arriving at a spot where a point of sand jutted out for several yards into the bed of the river, and formed a species of cape, from the end of which objects could be seen for some distance, owing to the transparency of the water, Red Wolf made a sign to his companions to halt, and himself dismounted. Prairie-Flower and Ivon imitated him. Ivon was not sorry to take a few moments' rest, and, above all, make some inquiries before proceeding further. At the first blush, carried away by an unreflecting movement of the heart, which impelled him to save his master by any means that offered, he had not hesitated to follow his two strange guides; but, with reflection, distrust had returned still more powerfully, and the Breton was unwilling to go further with the persons he had met, until he possessed undoubted proofs of their honesty.
So soon as he had dismounted then, and taken off his horse's bridle, so that it should crop the tender shoots, Ivon walked up boldly to the Redskin, and struck him on the shoulder. The Indian, whose eyes were eagerly fixed on the rider, turned to him.
"What does the Paleface want?" he asked him.
"To talk a little with you, Chief."
"The moment is not good for talking," the Indian answered, sententiously; "the Palefaces are like the mockingbird; their tongues must be ever in motion; let my brother wait."
Ivon did not understand the epigram.
"No," he said, "we must talk at once."
The Indian suppressed an impatient gesture.
"The Red Wolf's ears are open," he said; "the Chattering Jay can explain himself."
The Redskins, finding some difficulty in pronouncing the names of people with whom the accidents of the chase or of trade bring them into relation, are accustomed to substitute for these names others, derived from the character or physical aspect of the individual they wish to designate. Ivon was called by the Blackfoot Indians the Chattering Jay, a name whose justice we will refrain from discussing. The Breton did not seem annoyed by what Red Wolf said to him; absorbed by the thought that troubled him, every other consideration was a matter of indifference to him.
"You promised me to save Glass-eye," he said.
"Yes," the Chief answered, laconically.
"I accepted your propositions without discussion; for three hours I have followed you without saying anything; but, before going further, I should not be sorry to know the means you intend to employ to take him out of the hands of the enemy."
"Is my brother deaf?" the Indian asked.
"I do not think so," Ivon answered, rather wounded by the question.
"Then let him listen."
"I am doing so."
"My brother hears nothing?"
"Not the least, I am free to confess."
Red Wolf shrugged his shoulders.
"The Palefaces are foxes without tails," he said, with disdain; "weaker than children in the desert. Let my brother look," he added, pointing to the river.
Ivon followed the direction indicated, winking, and placing his hands over his eyes, to concentrate the visual rays.
"Well," the Indian asked, after a moment, "has my brother seen?"
"Nothing at all," the Breton said, violently. "May the evil one twist my neck, if it is possible for me to distinguish anything."
"Then my brother will wait a few minutes," the Indian said, perfectly calm; "he will then see and hear."
"Hum!" the Breton went on, but slightly satisfied with this explanation. "What shall I see and hear?"
"My brother will know."
Ivon would have insisted, but the Chief took him by the arm, pushed him back, and hid with him behind a clump of trees, where Prairie-Flower was already ensconced.
"Silence!" the Redskin muttered, in such an imperative tone that the Breton, convinced of the gravity of the situation, deferred to a more favourable moment the string of questions he proposed asking the Chief.
A few minutes elapsed. Redskin and Prairie-Flower, with their bodies bent forward, and carefully parting the leaves, looked eagerly in the direction of the river, while holding their breath. Ivon, bothered in spite of himself by this sort of conduct, imitated their example. A sound soon struck on his ears, but so slight and weak, that at first he fancied himself mistaken. Still the noise grew gradually louder, resembling that of paddles cautiously dipped in the water; next, a black dot, at first nearly imperceptible, but which grew larger by degrees, appeared on the river.
There was soon no doubt in the Breton's mind. The black dot was a canoe. On arriving within a certain distance, the sound could be no longer heard, and the canoe remained motionless about halfway between the two banks. At this moment the cry of the jay broke the silence, repeated thrice, with such perfection, that Ivon instinctively raised his head to the upper branches of the tree that sheltered them. Upon this signal, the canoe began drawing nearer the cape, where it soon ran ashore; but upon landing, the person in it raised the paddle twice in the air. The cry of the jay was heard again, thrice repeated.
Upon this, the rower, perfectly reassured, as it seemed, leaped on the sand, drew the canoe half out of the water, and walked boldly in the direction of the clump of trees that served Ivon and his comrades as an observatory. The latter, deeming it useless to wait longer, quitted their shelter, and walked toward the newcomer, after recommending the Breton not to show himself without their authority. This order he obeyed; but, with that prudence which distinguished him, he cocked his pistols, took one in each hand, and, reassured by this precaution, waited what was about to happen.
The new actor who had entered on the scene, and in whom the reader will have recognised Mrs. Margaret, had left Major Melville only about an hour previously, after having that conversation we have repeated. Although she did not expect to meet Prairie-Flower at this spot, she did not appear at all astonished at seeing her, and gave her a friendly nod, to which the girl responded with a smile.
"What is there new?" she asked the Indian.
"Much," he replied.
"Speak."
The Red Wolf thereupon told her all that had happened during the chase; in what way he had learned it, and how Ivon had escaped in order to seek help for his master. Margaret listened to the long story without letting a sign of emotion to be seen on her wrinkled, grief-worn face. When Red Wolf had ceased speaking, she reflected for a few moments; then raising her head, asked—
"Where is the Paleface?"
"Here," the Indian answered, pointing to the clump of trees.
"Let him come."
The Chief turned to fetch him, but the Breton, who had heard the last word spoken in English, and judged that it was intended for him, left his hiding place, after returning the pistols to his belt, and joined the party. At this moment the first gleam of day began to appear, the darkness was rapidly dissipated, and a reddish hue, which formed on the extreme limit of the horizon, indicated that the sun would speedily rise. The She-wolf fixed on the Breton her cunning eye, as if desirous to read the depths of his heart. Ivon had nothing to reproach himself with, and hence he bravely withstood the glance. The She-wolf, satisfied with the dumb interrogatory to which she had subjected the Breton, softened down the harsh expression of her face, and at length addressed him in a voice she attempted to render conciliatory.
"Listen attentively," she said to him.
"I am listening."
"You are devoted to your master?"
"To the death," Ivon answered, firmly.
"Good: then I can reckon on you?"
"Yes."
"You understand, I suppose, that we four cannot save your master?"
"That appears to me difficult, I allow."
"But we wish to revenge ourselves on Natah Otann."
"Very good."
"For a long time our measures have been taken to gain this end at a given moment; that moment has arrived; but we have allies we must warn."
"It is true."
She drew a ring from her finger.
"Take this ring; you know how to use a paddle, I suppose?"
"I am a Breton, that is to say, a sailor."
"Get into the canoe lying there, and without losing a moment, go down the river till you reach a fort."
"Hum! is it far?"
"You will reach it in less than an hour if you are diligent."
"You may be sure of that."
"So soon as you have arrived at the fort, you will ask speech with Major Melville; give him that ring, and tell him all the events of which you have been witness."
"Is that all?"
"No; the Major will give you a detachment of soldiers, with whom you will join us at Black's clearing: can you find your way there again?"
"I think so; especially as it is on the river bank."
"Yes; and you will have to pass it before reaching the fort."
"What shall I do with the canoe?"
"Abandon it."
"When must I start?"
"At once; the sun has risen, we must make haste."
"And what are you going to do?"
"I told you we were going to Black's clearing, where we shall wait for you."
The Breton reflected for a minute.
"Listen, in your turn," he said; "I am not in the habit of discussing orders, when I think those given us are just; I do not think that you intend, under such grave circumstances, to mock a poor devil, whom grief renders half mad, and who would joyfully sacrifice his life to save his master's."
"You are right."
"I am therefore going to obey you."
"You should have done so already."
"Maybe; but I have a last word to say."
"I am listening."
"If you deceive me, if you do not really help me, as you pledge yourself, in saving my master—I am, a coward, that is notorious; but on my word as a man, I will blow out your brains: even were you hidden in the bowels of the earth, I would go and seek you to fulfil my oath. You hear me?"
"Perfectly! and now have you finished?"
"Yes."
"Then be off."
"I am doing so."
"Good-bye, till we meet again."
The Breton bowed once more, pulled the boat into the water, jumped in, and hurried off at a rate which showed he would soon reach his destination. His ex-companions looked after him till he was hidden by a bend in the river.
"And now what are we going to do?" Prairie-Flower asked.
"Go to the clearing, to arrange with John Black."
Margaret mounted Ivon's horse, Prairie-Flower and Red Wolf each took their own, and the three started at a gallop. By a fortunate coincidence, it was a day chosen by the squatter to give his family a rest, and, as we have said, he had gone out with William to take a look at his property. After a long ride, during which the squatter had burst into ecstasies only known to landed proprietors, they were preparing to return to their fortress, when William pointed out to his father the three mounted persons coming towards them at full gallop.
"Hum!" Black said, "Indians, that is an unpleasant meeting! let us hide behind this clump, and try to find out what they want."
"Stay, father," the young man said, "I believe that precaution unnecessary."
"Why so, boy?"
"Because of the party two are women."
"That is no reason," the squatter said, who, since the attack, had become excessively prudent; "you know that in these bad tribes the women fight as well as the men."
"That is true; but stay, they are unfolding a buffalo robe in sign of peace."
In fact, one of the riders at this moment fluttered a robe in the breeze.
"You are right, boy," the squatter observed, presently; "let us await them; the more so, as, if I am not mistaken, I can recognize an old acquaintance among them."
"The woman who saved us, I believe."
"Right; by Jove! the meeting is a strange one. Poor woman, I am delighted to see her again."
Ten minutes later the parties joined; after the first salutations, the She-wolf took the word.
"Do you recognize me, John Black?"
"Of course I do, my worthy woman," he replied, with emotion; "although I only saw you for a few moments, and under terrible circumstances, the remembrance of you has never left my heart and mind; I have only one wish, and that is, that you will give me the opportunity to prove it."
A flash of joy shot from the She-wolfs eye.
"Are you speaking seriously?" she asked, quickly.
"Try me."
"Good; I was not deceived in you. I am glad of what I did. I see that the service I rendered you has not fallen on ungrateful soil."
"Speak."
"Not here: what I have to tell you is too lengthy and serious for us to be able to discuss it properly at this place."
"Will you come to my house? There you need not be afraid of being disturbed."
"If you permit it."
"What, my good creature, permit it? Why, the house, all it contains, and the owner in the bargain, all are yours, and you know it."
Margaret smiled sadly.
"Thanks!" she said, offering him her hand, which Black pressed gladly.
"Come," he said, "as we have nothing more to do here, let us be off."
They started in the direction of the house; but the return was silent; each, absorbed in thought, rode on without thinking of addressing a word to the other. They were but a short distance from the house, when they suddenly saw some twenty horsemen debouch from a wood on the right, dressed, as far as could be distinguished, as wood rangers.
"What is this?" Black said, with astonishment, as he pulled his horse up.
"Eh!" the She-wolf said, not replying to the squatter. "The Frenchman has been diligent."
"What do you mean?"
"I will explain all that presently; for the present you need only offer your hospitality to these good people."
"Hum!" Black said, doubtingly. "I shall be glad to do it, but must know who they are, and what they want of me."
"They are Americans; like yourself. I asked the commandant of the fort where they are stationed to send them here."
"What fort and what garrison are you talking of, my good woman? On my soul! I do not know what you mean."
"What! have you not learned to know your neighbours since you have been here?"
"What! have I neighbours?" he said, in an angry tone.
"About ten miles off is Fort Mackenzie, commanded by a brave officer, Major Melville."
At this explanation the squatter's face was unwrinkled; it was not a rival, but a defender he had as neighbour, hence all was for the best.
"Oh, I will go and pay him my respects," he said; "the acquaintance of a fort commandant is not to be neglected in the desert."
Major Melville sent off at once the detachment asked by his sister; but reflecting that soldiers could not execute so well as hunters the meditated coup de main, he chose twenty hardened and resolute trappers and engagés under the command of an officer who had been a long time in the Fur Company's service, and was versed in all the tricks of the crafty enemies he would have to fight.
At the foot of the hill the two parties combined. Black, though still ignorant for what purpose the detachment had come, received most affably the reinforcement sent to him. Ivon was radiant; the worthy Breton, now that he could dispose of such a number of good rifles, believed in the certainty of saving his master; all his suspicions had disappeared, and he burst forth into apologies and thanks to the She-wolf and her two Indian friends. So soon as all were comfortably lodged in the building, Black returned to his guests, and, after offering them refreshments, said—
"Now, I am waiting for your explanation."
As we shall soon see the development of the plans formed at this meeting, it is useless to describe them.