“Dubocq! Dubocq has returned! Dubocq! Vive our champion, Dubocq!”
The forest rover with composed assurance advanced to exhibit his trophies, and in answer to the Governor’s enquiries, recounted the history of his exploits with much natural eloquence.
“I was taken prisoner by the Iroquois,” he began, “and for a long time I labored as their slave. They found my strength useful in many ways. For me, I devoured my heart in silence, M. le Comte, for no way of escape seemed possible, and if it was my fate to perish in the hands of those demons, why, there was no more to be said. So I was waiting with what patience I could muster for the fatal moment in which I was to be burnt alive. It happened on an occasion when I was engaged in hunting with eight braves and two squaws”—(here he indicated with a gesture his two female companions, who had never even raised their eyes or given the slightest indication that they knew their fate was trembling in the balance)—“we camped in a spot where they had hidden a quantity of liquor. Having been on two war expeditions in which they had performed prodigies of valor, they had succeeded in enriching themselves at their enemies’ expense, and were at the time visiting the liquor as a rest and indulgence after much privation. Desiring to carry nothing with them but their arms and ammunition, they had been fasting for many days; so, as you may imagine, M. le Comte, those wolves were not inclined to be very abstemious.”
“It is the custom of these pagans to swallow brandy at a gulp, easier than we take light wine at our most jovial parties,” whispered Jean Ameron to his friend, who was a keenly interested spectator of all that was going on.
“After supper,” continued the hero of the occasion, “they commenced drinking and singing, according to their own ideas of enjoyment. Considering me as a victim about to be sacrificed to their vengeance, they invited me to join their orgy, with the comforting assurance that it would be my last opportunity, as they had decided to put an end to me at once. Being for the moment all companions in pleasure, they sang loudly, with joyful hearts celebrating their victories. They persisted in forcing quantities of the liquor on me. Though in usual well inclined to drink, I restrained my inclination, knowing that should I become helpless my fate would be at once sealed. After raising the brandy to my mouth I allowed it to spill, and as the wigwam was illuminated only by the uncertain light of the fire, the savages did not notice my evasion of their hospitable intentions. By this means I retained my composure, while by the middle of the night my companions, whose heads were heated by drink and the war-songs they had sung, were overcome by sleep. I made no movement, but feigned to be the drunkest of all the party, though watching quietly like a fox. Faith of Dubocq! the Iroquois and I, we know each other well, and here it was a question of life and death. I debated seriously whether when I found them all helpless, completely at my mercy, I should profit at once by my liberty, or whether before leaving I should send those ten heathen to the land of souls. As for the braves, that meant eight enemies less for the colony. Then, M. le Gouverneur, ladies, gentlemen and friends,” with a grandiloquent flourish of the hand towards the unhappy prisoners, who still stood mute, like bronzed images of resignation, “then I resolved to spare these women as being unworthy a man’s vengeance, and also as witnesses of my triumph.
“V’là! I commenced by tying the squaws tightly together, comprehending well that, having smaller brains than the men, they were more easily intoxicated and consequently more difficult to awaken. And, I assure you, they had not stinted themselves in the use of the liquor. I resolved to make sure, however, trusting my fate to no chance which I had power to provide against. In order to try if their sleep were really so profound as it appeared, I held pieces of flaming wood close to their faces; but, behold! not a movement, not so much as the quiver of an eyelash. My opportunity had come; it but depended upon the strength of my own arm to escape death by torture. I have seen that; I know what it is; so do many of you, my friends.”
The crowd responded to this appeal by a quick sympathetic murmur.
“Many of us have witnessed the death of our comrades, many bear scars of the wounds inflicted by those wolves. That thought nerved my heart. Arming myself with a heavy hatchet, I dealt one warrior after another a deadly blow, and that with the greatest rapidity. If one should awaken and give the alarm, then I was lost. Tiens! it was all finished in a crack. It was a cold butchery, I grant you, M. le Comte, but what will you, then? The choice lay between my death and theirs. Imagine to yourself when a man fights in the name of his lord the King, his Lord God, the holy saints and angels, and his own safety. I owed the Iroquois many a debt, and I endeavored honestly to pay them all.
“I tried vainly to awaken the two women, who still slept soundly. Then I sat down to smoke my pipe and indulge in many pleasant memories of the home which I had never thought to see again. We had still a long and dangerous journey before us, so it was necessary to set about making preparations. Next morning when the two women regained their senses I allowed them to perceive that a change had taken place in the position of affairs—that they had at the one stroke become widows and my slaves. I could not suppose that they were pleased by the course of events, but they said little. I assured them that I would spare their lives on condition that they would bear witness to the truth of my story, and they agreed with the best possible resignation. I may make them my compliments on their docility; never have they troubled me with useless lamentations. When I had adjusted my scalps to my taste—and you will perceive, M. le Comte, that they are arranged in true savage fashion—I took them and my prisoners and started upon my journey.”
“Vive, Dubocq, who has killed eight Iroquois at a blow! Vive Dubocq!” shouted the excited and sympathetic crowd.