CHAPTER XII A MEETING OF DEADLY FOES
After carrying their canoes around the two waterfalls that obstruct the outlet of Lake George, the Iroquois finally glided like so many night-shadows out onto the surface of Lake Champlain. Then, guided by the son of Longfeather, they approached the place where he had seen the Hurons. Sacandaga had entered the canoe of the young scout that he might learn more fully what had happened during the past two days; also his place was in the leading canoe, that from it he might direct the movements of his followers, who were now nearly two hundred in number.
He had thought of attempting a night surprise of the northern invaders by attacking their camp under cover of darkness; but this plan was dismissed almost as soon as formed, for he remembered the prophecy of Kaweras. The fight in which the Iroquois were to be successful must take place in broad daylight and on a fair morning. The battle might not, therefore, be waged at night, nor even on the morrow, unless it were a day of cloudless sunshine. At the same time the Hurons must be given no chance for escape, and to compel them to remain where they were he stationed his force at the mouth of the cove in which lay their fleet. This position was taken in silence and, it was thought, without attracting attention.
That the men from the north had, however, received notice of their enemies' coming and were keenly on the alert to meet them was soon proved by a jeering hail from the land.
"Are the bark-eaters fish that they remain in the water? If they call themselves men, why do they not come on shore and accept the welcome awaiting them?"
To this taunt the Iroquois replied with a chorus of fierce yells and savage intimations of what would happen when they got ready to enter the camp of the Huron dogs.
So the night was spent in a brisk exchange of taunts, jeers, threats, and insulting remarks well calculated to increase the bitterness of the hate already existing between the two tribes. The Iroquois even betrayed their knowledge of the mysterious being whom the Hurons had called to their aid, and expressed the utmost contempt for him. To this those on shore made no reply except to advise the Iroquois to call upon their own gods for the aid they would surely need on the morrow.
"Something has given them courage," remarked Sacandaga, "for never have I known Hurons to talk so bravely in the presence of Iroquois. But we will see whether their boldness can stand the test of daylight."
At length the wished-for dawn arrived, and by its earliest gleams Sacandaga landed his force at a point beyond arrow-shot of the Huron camp and bade them light fires for the preparation of breakfast. He was well aware of the fighting value of a full stomach, and was too wise a leader not to seek every possible advantage even against a foe whom he despised.
Nor were the Hurons less ready to make the most of this opportunity for preparing cooked food, the first time they had dared do so in several days. Thus both parties remained hidden from each other, except through the eyes of their watchful scouts, until the sun was an hour high. Not only did Sacandaga wish to refresh his men by this rest, but he was determined not to begin fighting until assured of conditions propitious to his undertaking. With the weather, however, he had every reason to be pleased, for never was a fairer morn. The sky was cloudless, the air clear and crisp, the lake of a heavenly blue, and all nature was at its best. As he looked about him he became elated over the certainty of his forthcoming victory.
"The Hurons have never yet been able to stand before an equal number of Iroquois," he said, "and to-day with all things in our favor it will be strange indeed if we do not wipe them out. But we may not delay, lest the spirits become angry and send their lightnings to punish our indifference to the favors they have shown. Let us, then, get to work and finish this business quickly, that we may the more speedily return to our own people."
Although Sacandaga was one of the most skilful warriors of his time, and well versed in all the tricks of his trade as practised by forest fighters, he saw fit in the present instance to lead his painted savages to the attack in a compact body. As the Hurons occupied the centre of a large cleared space so wide as to place them beyond the reach of arrows from forest covers, this plan was in a measure forced upon him. At the same time he hoped to overawe the enemy and terrify him by the number and ferocious appearance of his followers. So the Iroquois, half naked, painted, befeathered, decked with bears' claws and wolf-tails, dashed from the forest yelling and brandishing their weapons, and advanced with a rush to where the Hurons awaited them.
The latter appeared terrified, and seemed to shrink from the impending onslaught. Then their solid formation broke, leaving a wide gap, from which stepped a single figure. The Iroquois were not more than fifty paces distant; but at sight of this apparition they came to a sudden halt and stood as though petrified with amazement. The figure confronting them was indeed that described by Massasoit, only it loomed up larger than they had expected, and gleamed with a dazzling lustre in the bright sunlight. It had the form of a man, but its face was covered with a growth of hair that hung down on its breast.
The person who appeared so remarkable to the denizens of the forest that they deemed him a god was none other than the intrepid French explorer Samuel de Champlain, founder of the city of Quebec. With but two followers he had been induced to accompany a war-party of Canadian Indians on their foray into Iroquois territory, and was thus the first of his race to look upon the waters of the noble lake that has ever since borne his name.
For a few moments the Iroquois gazed awe-stricken upon this first white man they had ever seen. Then, relying upon the prophecy of Kaweras, that only thunder and lightning could prevent them from winning a victory, they bent their bows and let fly a cloud of arrows. Many of these were aimed at the white man standing so boldly before them, but, to their dismay, he remained unharmed. Nahma in particular, who had shot at the very centre of the shining breastplate, was amazed and terrified to see his arrow, after striking, bound back as though it had encountered a wall of rock.
But scant time was given for the consideration of this marvel; for, even as they shot at him, the mysterious being brought into position a strange-looking stick that he carried until it was pointed directly at them. Then came a flash of lightning, a roar of thunder, a cloud of smoke, and a dozen of the Iroquois fell to the ground as though smitten by the wrath of God. As was afterwards proved, but two of them were killed and one—Sacandaga—was grievously wounded, while the others had fallen from sheer fright. At the same time the Hurons rushed forward with triumphant yells and a flight of arrows.
For a moment the Iroquois wavered and seemed about to fly. Then Nahma, son of Longfeather, sprang to the front with a loud cry, and, swinging a stone war-club above his head, made straight for the thunder-god who had wrought such havoc. Champlain was in the act of drawing his sword when he was staggered by a terrific blow that would surely have killed him but for the steel cap that he wore. Before he could recover, and ere a second blow could be delivered, there came another flash of lightning accompanied by its thunderous roar from a clump of bushes at one side, and two more Iroquois were stricken with sudden death.
At this fresh proof that the all-powerful spirits were indeed fighting against them the hearts of the Iroquois melted, and they fled from the field a panic-stricken mob. Even Nahma joined in the mad flight; but he paused long enough to pick up his wounded chieftain, whom he hoped to be able to carry as far as the canoes.
At their heels streamed the exultant Hurons, striking down the fugitives by the score. One of these drove a spear through the body of Sacandaga; and Nahma, staggering under his burden, was knocked down by the force of the blow. As he disengaged himself from the dead sachem and regained his feet he found himself once more face to face with the awful being who held in his hands the thunders and lightning of a Manitou.
At this moment Champlain, who had found time to reload his musket, fired a second shot into the ranks of the flying Iroquois. Ere its smoke could lift, Nahma, frenzied with rage and reckless of consequences, sprang upon the white man with uplifted knife. The blow was urged with all the splendid strength of the young warrior's arm, but it only bent the copper blade in his grasp and left him defenceless. Ere he could renew his flight he was flung to the earth and bound immovably with thongs of tough bark.
NAHMA SPRANG UPON THE WHITE MAN WITH UPLIFTED KNIFE
Nahma's first battle was ended in utter defeat, but he did not feel humiliated, for he believed that he had fought against immortal spirits who could come to no harm from the hands of man. He only wondered vaguely, as he lay awaiting the pleasure of his captors, why the Okis should have ranged themselves on the side of the perfidious Hurons instead of aiding the Iroquois, whom he then believed to be the most nearly perfect of human beings.
About one-half the force that Sacandaga had led so confidently to battle that morning reached the canoes and continued their flight up the lake. The Hurons did not pursue them, for they were too busy killing or taking captive those who were left behind.
By noon the whole affair was ended, and the triumphant Hurons, taking with them twoscore of dejected prisoners, as many bloody Iroquois scalps, and a number of canoes laden with spoils, set forth on their return to the St. Lawrence.
With them went Champlain, still thrilled with the excitement of fighting and killing, but already disgusted with the barbarities of his savage allies. Could he have foreseen that his act of that day had created a powerful enemy who for two hundred years to come would let pass no opportunity for the killing of a Frenchman, his thoughts would have been still more sombre.
In camp that night, while still occupied with his melancholy reflections, he was accosted by one of his white companions, who said,—
"Look yonder, monsieur. They are about to punish in pretty fashion the young devil who twice this day attempted to take thy life."