Instant obedience followed his command, though to all appearance they were going to their destruction; the frail barks must necessarily be dashed to pieces against the huge trunk of the tree barring their way. Calm and immovable, his eyes fixed upon the Indian canoes gradually coming nearer and nearer, Roger stood ready, as it seemed, to throw himself into the river. Indians lined the banks, but they dared not shoot, for fear of injuring their own people. It was only a question of seconds; their enemies must inevitably be dashed to pieces, and then they would swim across the stream and be in at the death. Two of the Indian canoes in their haste knocked against each other; there was a moment’s check. The English were within six feet of the fatal tree. In a second it would be over. Every man held his breath and uttered a last prayer to God for mercy. In that second Roger had disappeared. And then slowly but surely the tree was lifted as by a lever, and the three canoes, driven by the current and by the quick impulse of the rowers, passed underneath. The Indians were close behind; but as suddenly as it had been lifted so suddenly it fell again, crushing beneath its weight the warriors and their overladen barks.
Terrible cries arose from the woods and from the surging waters. The evil spirits had interfered; it was a supernatural intervention. Superstitious terror seized the Indians, and those on land fled into the interior of the forest. The thickness of the foliage had prevented their seeing Roger clamber up the highest rock and raise the tree on to his broad shoulders, holding it there just long enough to let his friends pass underneath.
In the almost unconscious excitement which followed, the rowers had continued their course with marvellous rapidity, forgetful of the one who had saved them, until Howe, rising, held up his hand and bade them cease rowing.
“We must wait for Roger,” he said, and his voice was tremulous with suppressed emotion. A few minutes later they saw him swimming towards them; every hand was stretched out to seize his as he hoisted himself into the canoe.
“I’ve cheated those devils once more,” he said, in his rich, deep voice.
“It is marvellous,” answered Lord Howe. “With God’s help you have saved us from an awful death, Roger.”
“A mere question of time and strength,” he answered carelessly. “We must keep to the river now for a few miles, then land and take to the woods. I don’t think we shall hear much more of the red gentlemen for the present; they’ve had a fright,” and he laughed. His shirt was torn to pieces, and his shoulders were bruised and bleeding; but his companions thought they had never seen a grander man than Roger the Ranger!
CHAPTER XIV
SILENT INFLUENCE
From the first General Montcalm’s position was one of great difficulty. All the Canadian officials were opposed to him. Their conduct was so dubious, and would bear so little looking into, that they feared his clear-sightedness and uprightness. Vaudreuil, the governor, was jealous of him, and it was not long before the General was made to feel this. False reports concerning him were sent to the court of France; any advantages he gained over the enemy Vaudreuil attributed to himself and the civil government.
“My real crime,” Montcalm wrote to his wife, “is to have more prestige than Vaudreuil, and, above all things, more virtue than he has. I much fear time will only increase his dislike of me.”