As the army passes over Lake George, in the shadow of Black Mountain, how eagerly De Courselle looks back at his staggering column of men! Were he in a less serious mood, he might be inclined to smile at the efforts of the gallant troops of the regiment Carignan-Salières to maintain an orderly march on the unaccustomed snow-shoes; but the anxious commander has other thoughts than these. Where are his Algonquin guides? Have the rascals failed him? Calling the Jesuit chaplain, Father Raffeix, to his side, a consultation ensues. They are already nearing the future site of Fort William Henry, and there the trails divide. They scan the shores of the lake and search the islands, but neither Algonquin friend nor Iroquois foe is in sight. They know that if they march on until they reach the Hudson and follow it down, they will find the Dutch at Fort Orange, but that is not their object. They long for a chance to strike a decisive blow at the Mohawk castles. If they can once convince the Mohawks that they are not secure in their forest homes from the armies of France nor the strong revengeful arm of Onnontio,[30] a treaty will afterwards be of some value. The Jesuit Father who talks with De Courselle dreams already of a mission established among them as the result of that future treaty. With ardent enthusiasm he sees in anticipation an army of Jesuits march to a spiritual attack on the citadel of Satan upreared in the Iroquois country. His heart thrills at the thought of reaching the spot where Isaac Jogues was martyred. Father Lemoyne, the second Ondessonk, has died since then. The Onondagas that very year sent presents to Quebec to wipe away the tears shed for his death, thus expressing their sorrow and their admiration for his character. Father Raffeix cheers with zealous words the drooping spirits of the soldiers, then kneels amid the snows of Lake St. Sacrament, and in the true spirit of his order, prays in his heart for a share in the glorious work of continuing Ondessonk's mission.
The army of De Courselle at the southern end of Lake George was uncertain which trail to follow. At the Turtle Castle on the Mohawk the Indians had no knowledge of the march of their enemies, else there would have been great alarm at Gandawague; for all the ablest warriors of the three castles, in company with the Oneidas, were making war on the tribe called Wampum-makers. Only boys and helpless old men were left in the lodges with the women. They knew nothing of De Courselle and his army so near at hand, but, like their Dutch neighbors at Schenectady, were earnestly fighting their nearer and more pitiless foe the bitter winter. All the fuel near their lodges had been burned long ago; and now they are searching the snow-drifts for fagots and branches fallen from the trees. The cold is intense. The wind that whistles through the palisades of the Turtle village is the same sharp blast that is pinching De Courselle's army.
At Gandawague, outside of the palisade is a little girl on snow-shoes, only nine years old, who with imperfect sight is groping her way through the blinding storm. The snow is drifting wildly about. The one whom she calls mother is only an aunt, and the aunt is cold and cross to-day. She sits by the dying embers there in the lodge of the absent chief, and by turns she shivers and scolds. The other women beside her are equally cheerless. The little niece, who has missed the kindly look she knows well how to win from her Mohawk uncle by welcome services when he is there in the lodge, has taken it into her head this comfortless day to surprise her cross old aunts and her adopted sister. So she has quietly tied on her snow-shoes and ventured out. She is in the forest, alone, searching for fagots. On her forehead is a burden-strap, made from filaments of bass-wood bark, the ends twisted into a kind of Indian rope. With it she fastens the fagots together, bearing them on her back. Her hands are tingling with cold; but she plunges them deep into the snow in an effort to break the larger twigs, while she hurries on to increase her load. She is happier now in the howling storm than she was in the pent lodge, and smiles as she thinks of the blazing fire she will make to warm the feet and thaw the heart of her morose old aunt. Ah! Tekakwitha, that grim old squaw is training you, without knowing it, for heroic things. But after all, the aunt is not a neglectful guardian. After a while she misses the child, and questions all in the lodge; then peers out into the storm and shrinks back, shuddering. Has she indeed allowed Tekakwitha to wander out and perish in the cold? In that case what will she be able to say to the uncle when he returns; what will become of her own plans for the girl? As time goes on, there comes a faint scuffling at the door; the heavy curtain is lifted a little and falls again. No one has entered. Hurrying to the door, the old squaw thrusts the curtain aside, and there she beholds the child staggering under her load of wood, stiff and helpless from the cold. Leaving the fagots at the door, she lifts her gently in her arms and takes her to the fire, which is soon blazing brightly, fed by the new supply of wood quickly thrown upon it. But the glow of the fire, round which they all gather, is not half so cheering to the heart of the frostbitten child as the glow of love she has awakened in the lodge by her sweet unselfish care for their comfort. This once, at least, they give her the warmest seat, and fill her bowl brimful with the freshly made sagamite; then they question her about her walk, and wonder how she escaped being buried in the snow. Tekakwitha smiles with happy content, and answers their questions with a ready wit. She makes them laugh as she tells them a merry story of how the north-wind slapped her in the face and bound her fast to the hickory-tree against which she stumbled in the storm. In her heart she is saying all the time, as she watches the cheery light of the fire, "I will do it again."
But where is De Courselle now and his army on snow-shoes? We left them at the southern end of Lake George. There they took the trail that met the Hudson at its great bend to the southward near Glenn's Falls. Then after crossing the river they followed a straight trail leading a little west of south, and passed between Saratoga Lake and Owl Pond or Lake Lonely. Next they followed up the valleys of Kayaderosseras Creek and the Mourning Kill to Ballston Lake; but there, happily for Tekakwitha's people, they made a mistake.[31] Instead of taking the trail that branched off to the west at the northern end of Ballston Lake, and led directly to the Mohawk castles, they followed the straight trail southward; so instead of surprising the Mohawks, they themselves were indeed surprised to find that it brought them to a hamlet, not of Indians, but of Dutchmen,—not subjects of Holland at all, but colonists subject to England. They were greatly bewildered. We are told in an old London document[32] at M. de Courselle encamped—
"upon the 9th of February within 2 myles of a small village called Schonectade, lying in the woods beyond fort Albany in ye territoryes of his Royall highness, and 3 dayes march from the first castle of the Mohaukes.
"The French suposed they were then come to their designed place, and the rather because yt evening they did rancounter wth a party of the Mohaukes who made appearance of retreating from the French, whereupon a party of 60 of their best Fuzileers after them, but that small party drew the French into an ambuscade of neare 200 Mohaukes planted behind trees, (who taking their advantage as it fell into their hands) at one volley slew eleuen French men whereof one was a Lieutent wounded divers others, the french party made an honorable retreit to their body, wch was marching after them close at hand, wch gave the Mohawkes tyme and opportunity to march off wth the loss of only 3 slaine upon the plaice and 6 wounded, the report whereof was soone brought to Schonecktade by those Indians, with the heads of 4 of the ffrench to the Commissary of the Village who immediately despatched the newes to Fort Albany, from whence the next day 3 of the principle inhabitants were sent to Monsier Coursell the Governor of Canada to inquire of his intention to bring such a body of armed men into the dominions of his Matie of Great Brittaine, wthout acquainting the Governor of these parts wth his designes. The Governor replyd that he came to seeke out and destroy his ennemyes the Mohaukes without intention of visiting their plantations, or else to molest any of his Maties subjects, and that [he] had not heard of the reducing those parts to his Maties obedience, but desired that hee and his soldiers might bee supplied with provisions for their money, and that his wounded men might be sucoured, and taken care for in Albany; To all which the Emissaryes freely consented and made a small but acceptable present of wine and provisions to him, further offering the best accommodations ye poore village afforded, wch was civilly refus'd, in regard there was not accommodacón for his soldyers, with whom he had marcht and campt under the blew canopye of the heavens full six weekes, but hee prudently foresaw a greater inconvenience if hee brought his weary and half starv'd people within the smell of a chimney corner, whom hee now could keepe from stragling or running away, not knowing whither to runn for feare of ye Indians; The next day Monsieur Corsell sent his men to the village where they were carefully drest and sent to Albany, being seaven in number, the Dutch bores carryed to the camp such provisions as they had, and were too well payd for it; Especially peaz and bread, of wch a good quantity was bought; ye Mohaukes were all gone to their Castles, with resolution to fight it out against the ffrench, who being refresht and supplyed wth the aforesaid provisions made a shew of marching towards the Mohaukes Castles, but with faces about and great sylence and dilligence return'd towards Cannada.... Those who observed the words and countenance of Monsieur Coursell, saw him disturbed in minde that the king was Master of these parts of the Country, saying that the king of England did graspe at all America.... Two prisoners taken by the Mohaukes in the retreate tell them yt this summer another attempt will be made upon their country, with a greater force and supplyes of men, the truth or success of which I shall not now discourse upon, having given the trew relation of what past from ye 29th December to the 12th of February."
Another and larger force did attack the Mohawk castles in the year 1666, as hinted at in the lines just quoted, but not until late in the autumn; and at that time Tekakwitha was disturbed and distressed far more than she had been by the misdirected march of the "army on snow-shoes."
FOOTNOTES:
[29] See O'Callaghan's "Documentary History of New York," vol. i. for papers relating to this expedition of Governor de Courselle to the Mohawk River.