The King's Arrow: A Tale of the United Empire Loyalists

by H. A. Cody

As the last canoe disappeared around a bend, Dane and Pete slipped away from their place of watching. They moved rapidly through the forest, and hardly a sound did they make as they advanced. Their ears and eyes were keenly alert, for they were well aware that the critical time had now arrived, and that much depended upon their caution.

The darkness had now deepened, and no trail guided their steps. But to them this mattered little. The forest was their home, and their course was as unerring as birds in their flight or beasts in search of prey. A life-long training to one, and years to the other had developed the sense of instinct which always served when sight and hearing were of little or no avail.

And this stood them in good stead now, for when others would have detected nothing, they suddenly stopped dead in their tracks, dropped upon their hands and knees, and crept cautiously forward. Never did panthers move more warily than did those two human sleuth-hounds approach the unsuspecting men gathered from various places for the important council. From creeping they dropped into crawling, with their bodies close to the ground. In this manner they ere long came near the water, and not far from where the rebels were assembled. Here, concealed by night and a thick clump of small fir bushes, they were able to watch all that was taking place, and to hear every word uttered.

Ever since Pete had brought him word of this council a great fear had been tugging at Dane's heart. He said nothing, however, about it to his companion, but as he rapidly and anxiously scanned the faces of the men gathered about the big main fire, he breathed a sigh of relief. The one he feared might be present was not there. A weight was now lifted from his mind, so he felt in a better mood to spy upon the band before him.

He knew them all, Indians, English-speaking renegades from New England, and half-breeds. It was a motley gathering, and as he listened to the drifting conversation before the actual pow-wow began, he realised how bitter was the hatred to the English that rankled strong in every breast. The half-breeds had an old score to settle, and this was another desperate attempt on their part to arouse the dissatisfied natives against the Loyalists.

For a time it was an orderly gathering, and as the men ate of the abundance of food which had been provided, they talked in a quiet manner. But when the rum, of which there seemed to be no end, was passed around all became more talkative. They harangued, cursed, and wrangled with one another until it appeared to the concealed watchers that the whole affair would end in a fizzle. But Flazeet, the half-breed leader, seemed to be perfectly satisfied, and at times a grim smile overspread his dark brutal face.

Leaping at length to his feet, he ordered his companions to be silent. When he spoke in such a peremptory tone, they knew that it was well for them to obey, so after a little grumbling they settled down to listen to what he had to say.

Flazeet understood the Indian language, and was also well acquainted with the natives, so it was to them he now addressed his words. He told them first of all of the greatness of their race, and that the Great Spirit had given to their forefathers the land on which they lived. It was theirs, and no one had any right to take it from them. But strangers were coming in, and King George was going to take their hunting-grounds away and give them to others. And who were these newcomers? They were people who had been driven out of their own country for their badness. They had fought against the great white chief, George Washington, who had been so good to the Indians, and had sent them many presents during the war. These strangers had been defeated, and thousands of them had already arrived in ships, and were coming up the river to take possession of the hunting-grounds. The Indians would be driven out. They would die, because the newcomers would kill all the moose, deer, and caribou, cut down the trees, and destroy the fish on the various streams. These were some of the things they would do, and the Indians would have no hunting-grounds, so they, their wives and their children would starve. Would the Indians allow this? Would they let these bad men come in and take their lands? No, they must fight, drive these people out, and keep the country which was theirs by right. And now was the time to fight, before too many strangers arrived.

This in brief was Flazeet's long harangue. It made a deep impression upon the Indians, and they voiced their sentiments by occasional grunts of approval. So excited did several become when the speech was ended, that they leaped to their feet, and inflamed by the words and the rum, they were ready to march at once against the strangers. But Flazeet told them to wait, as the newcomers were many and well armed. It would be necessary to move slowly, and to be very careful. And, besides, there were Indians who would stand by the treaty which had been made with King George at the mouth of the river, and they would have to fight against them. This matter must be kept a profound secret, and when they did attack, it must be swift and deadly.

With considerable difficulty Flazeet managed to calm the warlike natives. Then more rum was passed around, followed by much talking and squabbling. All this was most gratifying to Flazeet, and especially interesting to the two couriers concealed among the bushes. Pete's great body quivered with excitement, and Dane could hardly control himself. How he longed for a score of tested men, that he might spring upon the rebels, and give them the surprise of their lives.