"There are canoes in plenty," said the other. "Besides, our Canada brethren are here, close at hand, at Che-on-de-ro-ga. They will give us help."
A silent pause succeeded, and then Woodchuck stretched forth his arm, recovered from the confusion which perhaps the suddenness of the attack, perhaps the violence of his fall, had produced, and addressed them after their own fashion.
"Are we not brothers?" he said. "Are we not all Honontkoh? Are we not all bound by the dreadful name to aid each other, even unto blood and death? I demand, therefore--ye who have lifted the hatchet against us unjustly--to set me and this maiden free, to make our feet as the feet of the panther, to go whither we will. I have spoken the terrible words. I have uttered the dreadful name; the sign of the order is in my flesh, and ye dare not refuse!"
A look of doubt and hesitation came over the faces of the Indians, and Apukwa replied: "Whither wouldst thou go, my brother? We have all sworn the oath in the presence of the dark spirit that we will aid one another, and that each of the Honontkoh will defend and protect another, though he should have eaten fire or shed his brother's blood. Thou hast shed our brother's blood; for we know thee, though we knew not that thou wert of our order. But we are Honontkoh, and we will keep the saying. We will defend thee; we will protect thee; but whither wouldst thou go?"
"I go," answered Woodchuck, with unfortunate frankness and truth, "I go to lay down my life for your brother's life. I go to the Castle of the Oneidas, to say: 'Woodchuck is here. Let the hatchet fall upon the old tree, and let the young sapling grow up till its time be come. I killed the Snake. Take the blood of him who slew him, and set the boy Walter free.' As for this maiden, she is mine. I have adopted her. I claim her, as brother claims from brother. Ye cannot be Honontkoh and take her from me. If ye be true to our order, give her into my hand, and let us go."
While he spoke, the countenances of the Indians round betrayed no mark of any emotion whatever, though there were many and varying feelings, undoubtedly, busy in their breasts. As he ended, however, a slight and somewhat scornful smile came upon the cunning face of Apukwa, and he replied: "We cannot let our brother go on such an errand. It would be contrary to our laws. We are bound to defend and protect him, and must not let him make wind of his life. The yellow leaf falls of itself from the bough; the green leaf is torn off by the tempest. We must preserve our brother's life, though the young man perish."
Edith's eyes wept fast with the bitterest drops of despair, but Apukwa went on: "As for the maiden, we will hear and judge more another day. Thou sayest thou hast adopted her. We will hear how, for we know her to be the daughter of the paleface Prevost. If she be the prize of the brother of the Snake, the brother of the Snake must have her. But if she be thy daughter, she is thine. Let her be with thee till we have heard all and judged. We have not room now; for time goes fast, and we are near danger. The palefaces are to the rising and setting sun, toward the cold and toward the soft wind. The Honontkoh is the enemy of the paleface, the abandoned of the Mohawk, and the outcast of the Oneida. Take the maiden in thy hand, and go on toward the rising sun. We come with thee as thy brethren, and will preserve thy life."
Woodchuck gave an anxious glance to Edith, and said in a low voice and in English: "We can't resist, but we may outwit them. Come on for the present, for I guess it may be no better. I will shed my blood for you, my dear, if I cannot for your brother." And taking her hand, he led her on toward the northeast, preceded by one, and followed by five or six Indians, who, on their usual cautious plan, walked singly, one after another, well knowing that their prisoners could not escape them. Several remained upon the spot a few minutes longer, engaged in stripping the pack-horse of all that he carried, and taking the saddles and bridles of the other horses, which they knew would be valuable in the eyes of the French. All this was done with extraordinary rapidity, and then the last party followed the first into the depths of the wood.
By this time the wind had considerably abated, though it still rained hard. The moment after the Indians had departed, however, the leaves and branches of a large flower-covered bush, of the kalmia, growing under a low-spreading hemlock, moved gently, and the next instant a black face protruded. After one hasty glance around, the whole form of the negress, Sister Bab, was drawn slowly out from the bush, and running from tree to tree with silent speed, she stopped not till she caught sight again of the retiring Indians, and then followed them quietly and cautiously on their way toward Champlain.