WARRIORS OF THE ILLINI
“Yes, M. de la Forest,” I said, stepping forward to save Rene from a question which would embarrass him. “I am the daughter of Captain la Chesnayne, whom the Sieur de Artigny hath taken under his protection.”
“La Chesnayne’s daughter! Ah, I heard the story told in Quebec––’twas La Barre’s aid who gave me the facts with many a chuckle as though he held it an excellent joke. But why are you here, Madame? Is not M. Cassion in the fort yonder?”
“’Tis a long tale, La Forest,” broke in De Artigny, laying his hand on the other’s shoulder, “and will bide a better time for telling. I am a soldier, and you may trust my word. We are La Salle’s men; let it go at that, for there is graver duty fronting us now than the retelling of camp gossip. Madame is my friend, and my hand will defend her reputation. Is that enough, comrade?”
“Ay, enough. My best regards, Madame,” and he bowed low before me, his words ringing true. “Whoever Sieur de la Salle has learned to trust hath my 372 faith also. You have come from the fort I take it, De Artigny? How are matters there?”
“Ill enough; the officers at swords’ points, and the men divided into three camps, for where De la Durantaye stands there is no evidence. M. Cassion holds command by virtue of La Barre’s commission, and knows no more of Indian war than a Quebec storekeeper. The garrison numbers fifty men all told; two-thirds soldiers, and a poor lot.”
“With ammunition, and food?”
“Ample to eat, so far as I know, but Boisrondet tells me with scarce a dozen rounds per man. The Iroquois are at the gates, and will attack at daylight.”
“You know this?”
“The signs are plain. We passed one party clambering up the cliff––no less than fifty warriors, naked and painted for war. Tuscaroras, Madame said from the words she overheard as they slipped past where we hid. ’Tis not likely they made reconnoissance alone. The fiends have been a week in this valley, and have swept all clear of our Indian allies; now they can bring their full force against the fort.”
“No doubt you are right.”
“’Twas my judgment, at least, and we sought help when we ran into you. What Indians have you?”
“Illini, mostly, with a handful of Miamis and Kickapoos. We met them at the crossing, hiding in 373 the hills. They were sadly demoralized, and filled with horror at what they had seen, yet agreed to return here under my leadership.”
“Who is their chief?”
“Old Sequitah––you know him?”
“Ay, a real warrior. ’Tis better than I dared hope, for I have been in battle with him before. Do you number a hundred?”
“And fifty more, though indifferently armed. Never have I seen the Illini in action, De Artigny; they seem to me a poor lot, so frightened of the wolves as to be valueless.”
“So they are if left to themselves, but under white leadership they stiffen. They will fight if given the Indian style. They will never stand in defense, but if we lead them to a surprise, they’ll give good account of themselves. That is my plan La Forest––that we creep up through the woods behind the Iroquois lines. They will expect no attack from the rear, and will have no guard. If we move quickly while it remains dark, we ought to get within a few yards of the red demons without discovery. They will fight desperately, no doubt, for their only hope of escape would be to either plunge down the rocky banks on either side, or cut a way through. You have been at the fort?”
“Twice before.”
“Then you know the nature of the ground. ’Tis all woodland until within a few hundred yards of the gates. You recall the great rock beside the trail?”
“Ay, and the view from the top.”
“My plan would be to creep up that far, with flanking parties on the slopes below. In front, as you may remember, there is an open space, then a fringe of forest hiding the clearing before the stockade. The Iroquois will be gathered behind that fringe of trees waiting daylight. Is my thought right?”
“’Tis the most likely spot.”
“Then listen; I have thought this all out. You and I, with Sequitah, will take a hundred of your Indians, cross the small river, and advance up the trail. That leaves fifty warriors to creep through the woods on either slope, twenty-five to a side, led by your two couriers de bois. We will wait at the great rock, and give the signal.”
La Forest stood silent a moment, thinking; then rested his hand on De Artigny’s shoulder.
“It looks feasible enough, but the flanking parties may not reach their positions in time.”
“The one from the west will not have as far to travel as we do. The other does not make so much difference, for if the Iroquois break they will come in this direction––the other side of the trail is sheer rock.”
“True; and what about the lady?”
“I shall go with you, Messieurs,” I said quietly. “There will be no more danger there than here; besides you would not leave me alone without a guard, and you will need every fighting man.”
I felt the grip of Rene’s hand but it was La Forest’s voice that spoke.
“The right ring to that, hey, De Artigny! Madame answers my last argument. But first, let us have word with the chief.”
He addressed a word into the crowd of indistinguishable figures, and an Indian came forward. Dim as the light was I was impressed with the dignity of his carriage, the firm character of his facial outline.
“I am Sequitah, Chief of the Mascoutins,” he said gravely, “for whom the white chief sent.”
De Artigny stepped forth, standing as erect as the other.
“Sequitah is great chief,” he said quietly, “a warrior of many battles, the friend of La Salle. We have smoked the peace-pipe together, and walked side by side on the war-trail. Sequitah knows who speaks?”
“The French warrior they call De Artigny.”
“Right; ’tis not the first time you and I have met the Iroquois! The wolves are here again; they have burned the villages of the Illini, and killed your women and children. The valley is black with smoke, and red 376 with blood. What says the war chief of the Mascoutins––will his warriors fight? Will they strike with us a blow against the beasts?”
The chief swept his hand in wide circle.
“We are warriors; we have tasted blood. What are the white man’s words of wisdom?”
Briefly, in quick, ringing sentences, De Artigny outlined his plan. Sequitah listened motionless, his face unexpressive of emotion. Twice, confused by some French phrase, he asked grave questions, and once a courier de bois spoke up in his own tongue, to make the meaning clear. As De Artigny ceased the chief stood for a moment silent.
“We leap upon them from cover?” he asked calmly, “and the white men will sally forth to aid us?”
“’Tis so we expect––M. de Tonty is never averse to a fight.”
“I believe in the Iron Hand; but ’tis told me others command now. If they fail we are but few against many.”
“They will not fail, Sequitah; they are Frenchmen.”
The Indian folded his hands across his breast, his eyes on the two men facing him. There was silence, but for the slight rustle of moving bodies in the darkness.
“Sequitah hears the voice of his friend,” he announced 377 at last, “and his words sound wise. The warriors of the Illini will fight beside the white men.”
There was no time lost although I know but little of what occurred, being left alone there while La Forest and De Artigny divided the men, and arranged the plans of advance. The dense night shrouded much of this hasty preparation, for all I could perceive were flitting figures, or the black shadow of warriors being grouped together. I could hear voices, never loud, giving swift orders, or calling to this or that individual through the gloom.
A party tramped by me, and disappeared, twenty or more naked warriors, headed by a black-bearded Frenchman, bearing a long rifle––the detachment, no doubt, dispatched to guard the slope east of the trail, and hurried forth to cover the greater distance. Yet these could have scarcely advanced far through that jungle when the others were also in line, waiting the word.
The very silence in which all this was accomplished, the noiseless bodies, the almost breathless attention, scarcely enabled me to realize the true meaning of it all. These men were going into battle, into a death grapple. They meant to attack five times their own number. This was no boy’s play; it was war, savage, relentless war. The stern horror of it seemed to suddenly grip me as with icy fingers. Here was what I 378 had read of, dreamed of, being enacted before my very eyes. I was even a part of it, for I was going with them to the field of blood.
Yet how different everything was from those former pictures of imagination. There was no noise, no excitement, no shrinking––just those silent, motionless men standing in the positions assigned them, the dim light gleaming on their naked bodies, their ready weapons. I heard the voices of the white men, speaking quietly, giving last instructions as they passed along the lines. Sequitah took his place, not two yards from me, standing like a statue, his face stern and emotionless.
It was like a dream, rather than a reality. I was conscious of no thrill, no sense of fear. It was as though I viewed a picture in which I had no personal interest. Out of the darkness came De Artigny, pausing an instant before the chief.
“All is well, Sequitah?”
“Good––’tis as the white chief wishes.”
“Then we move at once; La Forest will guide the rear; you and I will march together. Give your warriors the word.”
He turned and took my hand.
“You will walk with me, dear one; you are not afraid?”
“Not of the peril of coming battle,” I answered. 379 “I––I think I hardly realize what that all means; but the risk you run. Rene! If––if you win, you will be a prisoner condemned to death.”
He laughed, and bent low, so I felt his lips brush my cheek.
“You do not understand, dear girl. A moment and I will explain––once we are beyond the stream. Now I must see that all move together.”