The Secret Cache: An Adventure and Mystery Story for Boys

by Ethel C. Brill

“A frightful fate truly, but he brought it upon himself by torturing the beast,” the Frenchman exclaimed. “But how was it they had a captive moose? Surely they did not bring it across from the Isle Royale?”

“No.” It was Blaise who spoke. “Keneu says the men from the mainland brought the moose. Keneu saw the beast tied to a tree at their camp. It was a two year old and seemed tame. He thought it had been raised in captivity. They brought it to kill for a feast. Hugh and I saw it swim across behind their canoe.”

“Ohrante had no human captive to torture.” Hugh shuddered again, realizing that he himself had been the intended victim. “He had no man to practice his cruelty upon, so he used the animal. What a fiend the fellow was!”

Not one of Ohrante’s band was found on the island. The sudden fall of their chief had so appalled them that they had fled, every man of them, to the beach and had crowded into the one remaining canoe. The explanation of Ohrante’s fate was clear. The lightning had struck the top of the tall birch. The young moose, already wild with pain and fright, was driven to utter frenzy by the crash and shock. It had burst its bonds and plunged straight at its nearest tormentor, knocking him into the fire, stamping upon his body with its sharp hooves, and then dashing for the lake and freedom. A terrible revenge the crotch horn had taken.

Hugh’s plan had been to sink one canoe and steal the other, leaving the Chief of Minong and his followers marooned on the little island. He had hoped that the loss of the boats would not be discovered before morning. Then the besieging party could demand the surrender of Ohrante, promising his followers, if necessary, that they should go free if they would deliver up their chief. Even if they refused, there seemed no chance for Ohrante to get away. Before he could build canoes, the attacking party could easily raise a force sufficient to rush the island. If members of the band should attempt to swim the channel or cross it on a raft, they would be at the mercy of the besiegers. Sooner or later the giant and his men would be compelled to yield.

In accordance with this plan, the boys had set out to make away with Ohrante’s canoes. When ample time to carry out the manœuvre had passed, and they did not return, Baptiste had grown anxious. The sounds of the war dance and the bellows of the captive moose, carrying across the water, had increased his alarm. The men from the Grand Portage arriving just before the storm broke, Baptiste signalled them and they held themselves in readiness to go to the rescue of the lads. The watchers saw the lightning strike the island. They heard the tumult as the frightened Indians, believing some supernatural power had intervened to destroy their chief, fled to the beach. At once Baptiste’s men, regardless of the storm, started for the island. A flash of lightning showed them a canoe crossing to the mainland. Attack followed and the canoe was sunk or overturned. One boat of the attacking party put into shore to cut off the flight of any of the band who might succeed in reaching land. The other turned to the island.

When the whole force came together at dawn, they had taken two prisoners and had found the dead bodies of two other Indians besides Ohrante. The Mohawk had brought but three men with him and four others had joined him at the island. Three were therefore unaccounted for. They might have been drowned or they might have escaped. The important thing was that Ohrante was dead and his band broken up.

The headlong flight of the great chief’s followers was explained by one of the prisoners. The Indians had believed the giant Iroquois invincible. He had the reputation, as Monga had said, of being a medicine man or magician of great powers. He claimed to have had, in early youth, a dream in which it was revealed to him that no human hand would ever strike him down. The dream explained the boldness and rashness of his behavior. It also threw light on his fear of powers not human. Suddenly he was felled, not by human hand indeed, but by the dreadful thunder bird and the hooves of a beast which surely must be a spirit in disguise. The invincible was vanquished and his followers were panic stricken. The three men Ohrante had brought from Minong led the flight. They had seen and heard the threatening manifestations of Nanibozho, Kepoochikan and their attendant manitos on that island. Two of the band, the captive said, had been left on Minong to guard the camp. Of them neither Hugh nor Blaise ever heard again. Whether the Indians remained on the island or whether after a time they returned to the mainland and learned of Ohrante’s death, the lads never knew.

With the fate of the giant Mohawk all the attacking party were well satisfied except Blaise. He was so glum and silent that Hugh could not understand what had come over the lad. After their return to the Grand Portage, Blaise opened his heart.

“I wished to kill our father’s enemy with my own hands,” he confessed to Hugh. “It was the duty of you or me to avenge him, and I wished for the honor. You saw not in the darkness that I took my musket with me. When we crept in the water below that open place, I carried the musket on my back not to wet it. And then when I knelt among the trees and he stood there with his arms folded, I had him in good range. But, my brother, I could not shoot. It was not that I feared for myself or you. No, I felt no fear. I could not shoot him unarmed and with no chance to fight for his life. I am a fool, a coward, a disgrace to the Ojibwa nation.”