Cameron of Lochiel

by Philippe Aubert de Gaspé

"Very well!" replied Dumais, rising and taking off his cap, "thy brother swears in the presence of the Great Spirit that the prisoner is none other than the young Scotchman who saved his life!"

The Indian gave a great cry which went echoing wildly round the lake. He sprang to his feet, drew his knife, and rushed upon the captive. Lochiel thought his hour had come and commended his soul to God. What was his surprise when the savage cut his bonds, grasped his hands with every mark of delight, and pushed him into the arms of his friend. Dumais pressed Archie to his breast, then sank upon his knees and cried:

"I have prayed to thee, O God, to extend the right arm of your protection over this noble and generous man. My wife and my children have never ceased to make the same prayer. I thank thee, O God, that thou hast granted me even more than I had dared to ask. I thank thee, O God, for I should have committed a crime to save his life, and should have gone to my grave a murderer."

"Now," said Lochiel, after endeavoring to thank his rescuer, "let us get off as quickly as possible, my dear Dumais; for if my absence from camp is perceived I am ruined utterly. I will explain as we go."

Just as they were setting foot in the canoe the cry of the osprey was heard three times from the lake shore opposite the island. "It is the young men from Marigotte coming to look for you, my brother," said Grand-Loutre, turning to Lochiel. "Taoutsi and Katakoui must have met some of them, and told them they had an English prisoner on the island; but they will shout a long time without awakening Talamousse, and as to Grand-Loutre, he is going to sleep till the Canadian gets back. Bon voyage, my brothers." As Archie and his companion directed their course toward the north they heard for a long time the cries of the osprey, which were uttered at short intervals by the Indians on the south shore.

"I fear," said Archie, "that the young Abénaquis warriors, foiled in their amiable intent, will make a bad quarter of an hour for our friends on the island."

"It is true," replied his companion, "that we are depriving them of a very great pleasure. They find the time long at Marigotte, and to-morrow might have been passed very pleasantly in roasting a prisoner."

Lochiel shuddered in spite of himself.

"As for the two canaouas (red rascals) we have left, do not trouble yourself for them, they will know how to get out of the scrape. The Indian is the most independent being imaginable, and renders account to nobody for his actions unless it suits him. Moreover, the worst that could happen to them in the present instance would be, using their own expression, to cover the half of the prisoner with beaver skins or their equivalent—in other words, to pay their share in him to Taoutsi and Katakoui. It is more probable, however, that Grand-Loutre, who is a kind of a wag among them, would choose rather to raise a laugh at the expense of his two disappointed comrades, for he is never without resource. He will say, perhaps, that Talamousse and he had a perfect right to dispose of their half of the prisoner; that the half which they had set free had run away with the other half; that they had better hurry after him, for the prisoner was loaded with their share of himself and therefore could not travel very fast; with other waggery that would be hugely relished by the Indians. It is more probable, however, that he will speak to them of my adventure at the falls of St. Thomas, which the Abénaquis know about, and will tell them that it was to your devotion I owed my life. Then, as the Indians never forget a good turn, they will cry, 'Our brothers have done well to set free the savior of our friend the pale face!'"