WE MEET WITH DANGER
It was late in the afternoon of the second day when we arrived at the forks of the Chicago river. There was a drizzle of rain in the air, and never saw I a more desolate spot; a bare, dreary plain, and away to the eastward a glimpse of the lake.
A hut of logs, a mere shack scarcely fit for shelter, stood on a slight eminence, giving wide view in every direction, but it was unoccupied, the door ajar. Barbeau, in advance, stared at it in surprise, gave utterance to an oath, and ran forward to peer within. Close behind him I caught a glimpse of the interior, my own heart heavy with disappointment.
If this miserable place had been the headquarters of M. de la Durantaye, evidently it was so no longer. Not a vestige of occupancy remained, save a rotten blanket on the floor, and a broken bench in one corner. Rude bunks lined two walls, and a table hewed from a log stood in the center of the dirt floor. On this was a paper pinned to the wood by a broken knife blade. Barbeau grasped it, and read the writing, handing it 255 back to me. It was a scrawl of a few words, yet told the whole story.
“Francois Cassion, under commission of Governor la Barre, arrived with party of soldiers and Indians. At his orders we accompany the force to Fort St. Louis.
“De la Durantaye.”
“Perhaps it is as well,” commented De Artigny lightly. “At least as far as my good health goes; but ’tis like to make a hard journey for you, Madame.”
“Is it far yet until we attain the fort?”
“A matter of twenty-five leagues; of no moment had we a boat in which to float down stream, but the trail, as I remember, is rough.”
“Perchance there may be a boat,” interrupted Barbeau. “There was the wreck of an Indian canoe a mile below here on the Des Plaines, not so damaged as to be beyond repair, and here is a hatchet which we will find useful.” He stooped and picked it up from under the bench. “One thing is certain––’tis useless to remain here; they have left the place as bare as a desert. ’Tis my choice that we make the Des Plaines before dark.”
“And mine also; are you too greatly wearied, Madame?”