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Ticonderoga; A Story of Early Frontier Life in the Mohawk Valley

<h4>CHAPTER XXIX</h4> On that part of Lake Champlain, or Corlear, as it was called by the Indians, where, quitting the narrow basin which it occupies from its southern extremity to some distance northward of Ticonderoga, it opens out into a broader sheet of water, and sweeps round the small peninsula of Crown Point, a large canoe was seen crossing to the Canada side, with some sixteen or seventeen persons on board, amongst whom were Edith Prevost and her companion, Woodchuck. There was no attempt at concealment, no creeping along under shelter of the banks, but boldly and openly the Indians paddled on, within range of the guns of the French fort, and then directly across the bows of two large, flat-bottomed boats or batteaux, accompanied by several light canoes, each of the latter containing six or seven men, which were going down the lake in the direction of Ticonderoga. From each of the larger boats the flag of France was conspicuously displayed; but as the strange canoe above mentioned seemed bearing straight for the shore, fully in possession of France, its movements, for a time, appeared to excite no attention. Neither the batteaux nor the other canoes altered their course, the men in the former continuing a shouted conversation in a mixed jargon, part French, part Indian, with their dusky companions in the lesser craft, who kept as nearly alongside as possible. At length, however, it would seem some suspicion was excited. Two figures, male and female, were discerned from the batteaux in the stern of the strange canoe, whose dress at once showed them to belong to none of the Indian tribes, and was also somewhat different from that of either the Canadian colonists or the native French. The two parties were now within less than a hundred yards of each other, and it seemed doubtful whether the large canoe would clear the eastern French boat without trouble. But suddenly a voice was raised loud in the foremost batteau and a question was put in French as to whither the others were bound, and who they were. The Indians were silent, for they did not understand the words addressed to them; but Woodchuck whispered eagerly: "Answer! answer! if you can speak their jargon. Rather be in the hands of French officers than these incarnate devils!" Edith's eyes had been cast down, and so full of bitter tears that she had seen nothing since they left the western shore. But now she looked up, and in an instant her presence of mind returned. It is true she did not speak at once, for she feared her voice would not reach the boat; but it was nearing the canoe fast, and in a moment after the question was repeated in a more peremptory and a more distinct tone. "Tell them we are allies of the great French chief," said Apukwa, who seemed to comprehend in some degree the meaning of the call. "Say we are going to join our Canadian father;" and he glared fiercely as he spoke. "We are English!" exclaimed Edith, in French, exerting her utmost power of voice. "We are English and Iroquois, going I know not whither!" Instantly, at a signal from the batteaux, the light canoes dashed out with extraordinary rapidity, and before any effectual effort could be made to escape, the larger canoe was surrounded, while the yells of the Hurons announced that they recognized at length a band of ancient enemies. With a fiend-like look at Edith, Apukwa drew his tomahawk from his belt; but the brother of the Snake spoke some words to him in a low tone, the weapon was replaced, the men ceased to work the paddles, and every face assumed the quiet stillness of perfect indifference. The yells and whoops of the Hurons still continued, so that one danger seemed only to be escaped to encounter a still greater. Their fierce faces and dark, half-naked forms, tattooed and painted, were seen all round, and the tomahawk and the knife were brandished, as if for immediate action. But one of the large boats bore right down amongst them, and soon grappled the canoe in which Edith and her companion were. A handsomely dressed, middle-aged man stood up in the stern, as it came near, and turning to an Indian who seemed a chief, by his side, said to him in French: "Keep your people quiet, Great Elk!" A few words were then spoken, or rather shouted, by the Indian to the others in the canoes, in a language which Edith did not at all understand, and in an instant every Huron sank down in silence, and the light skiffs lay quiet upon the water, or only moved slightly with the momentum they had already received from the paddles. Then raising his hat and plume, with an air of much grace, the French officer addressed Edith, saying: "Will you have the goodness to explain to me, mademoiselle, who and what you are, and how you came to be in the position in which I find you? I am sorry to be obliged to detain a lady, but you have too many men with you to suffer your canoe to pass." "I am the daughter of an English gentleman," replied Edith. "I have been attacked and captured with the friend who was escorting me from my father's house to that of Colonel Schneider; my two servants were murdered--at least one of them, I am sure, was. The Indians who are with me are Iroquois, who are taking me forcibly across the lake, toward Canada, and I have little doubt that I shall be put to death also, if you do not save me from their hands." "But this is a strange story, mademoiselle," said the officer. "The Iroquois and your countrymen are in alliance." "I cannot account for it," said Edith. "They are certainly Iroquois, for they speak no other language, except a few words of English. You must ask them what is the meaning of their conduct, if you have any on board who can speak their tongue." The officer turned once more to his Indian companion and addressed some words to him in French; but the chief shook his head, and then drawing his eyelids together, as if to see more distinctly, gazed into the canoe, scanning the persons of the Indians closely. "They are Iroquois," he said, at length. "Let us scalp them." This proposal the officer did not think fit to comply with, at least for the time, and he replied, with a laugh: "Wait a little, my friend. The Great Elk shall have scalping enough soon. We will take them ashore with us, at all events, and perhaps may learn more. Then, if they are really enemies, you may exercise your skill upon them to your heart's content. The lady and her English companion, however, I claim as my prisoners. Permit me, mademoiselle, to assist you into the boat. You will be safer here, and may trust to the honor and courtesy of a French gentleman." "I have no fears on that score, sir," answered Edith, rising; and, with the aid of the officer and Woodchuck, passing into the other boat, which, flat-bottomed and heavily laden, was not much higher above the water than the canoe. Woodchuck followed her closely, but not without exciting the wrath of the Honontkoh. They had sat ever since the canoe had been grappled by the boat with the most tranquil stillness. Not a limb, not a feature had moved; and to the eye of an observer ignorant of their habits, they would have seemed perfectly indifferent to all that was taking place. In fact, one of them appeared actually going to sleep; for the sun, which had now broken out after the storm, shone full on his face, and his eyes were closed, and his head bent. But the moment that Woodchuck put his foot over the side of the batteau a yell of disappointed rage burst from every lip; and, unable to contain himself, Apukwa arose and poured forth a few words of Huron, mixed with a good deal of Iroquois. "Hold your tongues!" exclaimed the French officer, waving his hand imperiously. "Tow them along behind us; and you, Great Elk, command your people to keep close round them and see they do not cut the rope and slip away." The orders were given as he directed, and the arrangements made; but when all was completed, and the boat was once more moving along the lake, the Indian by his side pulled the officer's sleeve, thus interrupting a speech he had just begun, with a gallant air, to Edith, and seemed to explain something to him in a low tone. "Well, we shall soon find out," said the Frenchman, with a gay laugh. "If they are Iroquois who are going to become Hurons, and take service under his majesty, we will make them fight for us where we are going. We shall not have too many hands to help us, Great Elk, and they'll make a good reinforcement to your party. As for the lady and her attendant, I will take care of them;" and turning to Edith, with a courteous smile, he spread his roquelaure in a more convenient part of the boat, and assisted her to seat herself more comfortably, saying: "Mademoiselle is a great deal too charming to travel any more with such savages. But may I know the name of this gentleman? Can he not speak French?" "Not a word, I believe," replied Edith. "That is singular," exclaimed the Frenchman, giving expression to the general feeling of his nation, who seem to believe that the French language is one of those blessings of God which it is strange He should deny to any of his creatures. "What is his name?" It instantly passed through the mind of Edith that if she gave her good companion the name of Captain Brooks she would be certain to cause his detention as a prisoner of war, and she therefore simply replied: "He is called Woodchuck." "Woodchuck!" exclaimed the Frenchman; "quel drol de nom! Is Monsieur Woodchuck in the army?" To the question, thus put, Edith could fairly answer in the negative, for Brooks, though he had seen no little fighting in his day, was merely one of those amateur soldiers, then very common in the provinces, who rarely missed an opportunity of joining some band of volunteers in times of war with France, or fighting upon their own hand, according to the Dutchman's expression, as one of the extensive class called stragglers. They generally bore away from the field, especially if they distinguished themselves, some military title, such as captain or major, without ever having commanded half a dozen men in their lives. After having asked hie questions, and settled his conduct, the French officer's next business was, of course, politeness, and he would fain have engaged his lovely companion in gay and lively conversation during the rest of their little voyage; but Edith, though her mind was greatly relieved to find herself freed from the power of the Honontkoh, had many a subject of melancholy contemplation to occupy her thoughts. There was the dark and dreary consideration of her brother's fate; there was the uncertainty of what might befall her father and her lover; there was the separation from all most dear to her; there was the doubt, even now, whether she might not herself be detained a prisoner amongst strangers; for the war in America had hitherto been conducted by the French upon principles the most barbarous and most opposed to the ordinary characteristics of the nation. The scene which succeeded the capture of Fort William Henry was a dark and damning fact, never to be obliterated from the minds of men; and although it has been put forth by an American author as the only stain upon the character of Montcalm, that author must surely have forgotten the violated capitulation of Oswego, the death of the gallant De la Court, and the scalping and massacre of the sick in the hospital. All that we can trust is that these barbarities were only permitted, not encouraged. But how can we account for or excuse, how can we even palliate, the witting and voluntary delivery of twenty of the garrison into the hands of the Indians, in direct violation of the articles of capitulation, to be tortured to death under the very eyes of the French soldiery, as compensation for the loss of twenty of the French Indians? It is a fact which has never been denied, or it would be too horrible for belief. Edith replied briefly, therefore, to the compliments and pretty speeches of her military companion, and in the meanwhile the boat proceeded rapidly over the surface of the lake, passed Crown Point, and entered the narrow portion of Lake Champlain, which stretches from that promontory to the spot where the Sounding Waters, as the Indians called the outlet of Lake George, flow into the greater lake, near Ticonderoga. The French officer, somewhat baffled in his attempts to make her speak, tried his fortune with Woodchuck, but with still less success; for to everything he said in French he received what can hardly be called an answer in English; and generally, it must be said, not a very civil one; for Brooks was filled with all the most unreasonable prejudices of his country, and never uttered the word "Frenchman" without coupling it with the epithet "rascally." The voyage was brought to a close, however, before night fell, for the boat stopped short by a mile or two of Ticonderoga, and considerably to the north of the spot where the ferry now exists. The scene would have appeared beautiful, had Edith's mind been free to enjoy it, for in front were seen the tops of the several bold eminences round the French fort, On the one side were those rich lands, varied at that time with scattered masses of forest, though now more highly cultivated, known as the New Hampshire grants, and to the westward a varied country, rising gradually to the foot of the Mohegan Mountains. The spot chosen for the landing was a secluded cove in the woods, where the shelving rocks broke through the soil and dipped gradually into the water. Boats and canoes were all speedily hauled up. The commander of the party, with delicate attention, handed Edith out, and then gave orders to his men to follow him, which was effected with rapidity and precision. The savages, under the orders of their chief, took care of the Iroquois prisoners, and apparently by no slight act of forbearance resisted the great temptation to possess themselves of their scalps. When all had disembarked the canoes were drawn safely up under concealment of the bushes on either side, and the voyageurs in the two larger boats pushed off and took their way up the lake again. "I fear, mademoiselle," said the captain of the French soldiers, who might have amounted to sixty or seventy, "I must trouble you to take a somewhat fatiguing promenade of some four or five miles; at least so I am told, for I have never been here myself, and do not know the distance." "Then are we not going to Fort Ticonderoga?" asked Edith. "Not so," replied the officer. "We are going a little beyond, and I shall have no opportunity of detaching any party whom I could trust to send you into the fort to-night. The Indians, indeed, could be spared--at least a sufficient number to escort you--but I should really be apprehensive from what I know of their habits, that you might not be quite so safe in their charge as under the protection of my musketeers, with your devoted servant at their head. We will endeavor to make you as comfortable as we can for the night, and I doubt not that early to-morrow I shall be visited by some superior officer, who will have the honor of conveying you to the fort." "Then am I to consider myself as a prisoner?" asked Edith, in a cold tone. "I did not know that it was the habit of French officers to make women captives." "No!" replied the Frenchman, with a graceful bow; "we ourselves are much more frequently their captives. But, my dear lady, within the limits of this garrison I myself have no command--am merely acting under orders, and feel myself imperatively bound to send you and your companion, Monsieur Woodchuck, to the commandant of the fortress, who will act, I am sure, as he finds befitting. I only regret that I cannot do so at once; but my orders are strict, my route marked out, and I am told to hasten across this small peninsula, as fast as possible without approaching the fortress. It is certainly a rather long walk, but if you feel fatigued I can easily make my men construct a little litter, and carry you. We shall find some preparation made for us where we are going, though, I am afraid, not very suitable for your use." Edith evidently saw that remonstrance was in vain; and saying that she should prefer to walk, she took the arm of Woodchuck, and explained to him as they went all that had passed between her and the Frenchman. "I guess he is going to form an ambuscade," said Woodchuck. "If so, Miss Prevost, our army must be near, and we shall be long in their hands. I wish to heaven I could get away from them, and had but a horse to carry me," he added, thoughtfully, and with a sigh. "But it's no use wishing. God knows his own ways best! Them Hurons look very much as if they would eat the Oneidas before they've done. Pray God they mayn't take such a fancy to us, too!" Thus saying, he took the place which was assigned to him and Edith in the march. A number of Indians preceded, several little parties moved upon the flanks, the small body of French infantry moved on two abreast, for the trail was barely wide enough for that number. Woodchuck and Edith followed them, and the French officer, with the Indian whom he called Great Elk, walked next, succeeded by the Iroquois prisoners, a large quantity of baggage, borne on men's shoulders, and the remainder of the Huron auxiliaries. It was now twilight in the forest, and for more than an hour after darkness had fallen upon the earth the weary and somewhat perilous march was continued. Once a small stream was crossed, Woodchuck taking up his fair companion in his sturdy arms and bearing her over like an infant. Nothing of any note occurred, except a slow and low-toned conversation in the rear, which led Edith to believe that the Iroquois, her late captors, had found some of the other band of natives with whom they could converse; but she could not distinguish anything that was said. Weary and exhausted, the sight of a fire at length glimmering through the trees was an exceedingly pleasant sight to her eyes, and a minute or two after a scene presented itself which might have seemed dreary and comfortless enough under other circumstances, but which looked cheerful and comfortable after that long and miserable march. The trail which they had followed terminated in a small open space, flanked on three sides by low earthworks of no very regular construction, but evidently designed by an experienced military hand. The outer surface of these works was partially concealed by a thicket, and great care had been taken not only to preserve the brambles and the large-leaved raspberry, but to fill every gap in this shrubbery screen with branches of pine, and hemlock, and maple. Within these embankments the ground had, to a certain extent, been cleared, though two or three of the larger trees had been left standing, to prevent a vacancy being apparent from without. About the middle of the open space a number of rude huts had been erected, of small felled trees and branches; and before one, somewhat larger than the rest, a sentinel was seen planted, who, at the moment Edith came in sight, stood motionless, presenting arms, as his comrades filed into the little quadrangle. Behind the soldier, and between him and the huts, was a large blazing fire, which threw out his dark figure, sharply outlined upon the flame. "Ah! this will do," said the French commander, in a tone of relief. "The commandant has been careful of us. Mademoiselle, I welcome you to my redoubt, and will do my best to make the evening pass pleasantly for you. Now bring in the baggage. Tell the cook to get supper ready; and you, Pierrot, see that hut properly arranged for this young lady's accommodation. I calculated on sleeping upon a very comfortable bearskin to-night, but I will most willingly resign it to you, mademoiselle, in the hope of your passing a good night's rest." Edith would fain have declined accepting a sacrifice so enhanced, but the captain insisted; and his servant, whom he called Pierrot, at once set about the preparations for her comfort with a degree of skill and dexterity truly French. In the meantime, while Edith, sitting on the trunk of a fallen tree, waited till all was ready, and while a group of stragglers unpacked the baggage which had just been deposited from the sturdy shoulders of the bearers, the French officer called his friend, the Huron chief, to council; and Apukwa and the other Oneidas were brought before him, accompanied by two young Hurons, who undertook to act as interpreters. Many were the questions asked, and what between the captain's ignorance of Indian manners, and the interpreters' ignorance both of the French and Iroquois, the worthy officer seemed completely puzzled. At length, however, after consulting the Great Elk in a low voice, he exclaimed: "Tell them, if their tale be really true--though I've got my doubts, for I never heard of Free Masons amongst Indians before, and that must be what you mean by Honontkoh--but if their tale be really true, they may stay here with us, and prove their devotion to His Majesty Louis the Fifteenth, King of France, by fighting the English at our side. They shall be sharply watched, however," he added, in a low voice, as if speaking to himself. Apukwa heard his words translated, and then, saying something in reply, pointed to Edith and her English companion with a look of too much meaning to be misunderstood. "Nothing of the kind," answered the French officer, without waiting for the words which seemed about to follow. "Tell him there's but one choice, either to prove their story and their loyalty by fighting on our side, or to pass under the fire of these gentlemen," and he laid his hand upon a pile of muskets which stood close beside him. This intimation was quite sufficient. The Honontkoh agreed to stay and fight without any further conditions, and the Frenchman then gave strict orders, both to his own soldiers and the Hurons--by whom they were much more likely to be efficiently obeyed--that their very doubtful allies should be kept continually in sight. He then seemed to cast all thought of the affair behind him, and turned toward Edith, who was already in the hut, saying: "I hope, mademoiselle, Pierrot has taken good care of you." "With all the skill and courtesy of a Frenchman, monsieur," she answered, really pleased with the attention and almost fatherly kindness of the soldier who had been arranging the hut. "Then, now, as you have the means of rest, it only remains to provide you with meat and drink," said the officer. "I see they have spread my tablecloth on the grass there. Will you and your friend come and partake of my fare? Pray make my words understood to him." Woodchuck readily agreed to accept the Frenchman's hospitality, but Edith declined taking anything more than a little bread and some wine, alleging that she needed rest more than anything. The French officer, however, would not be content with this, but with his own hands brought her some savory messes which would not have disgraced a Parisian dinner table, some choice wine, and, what was still more valuable to her, a small lamp. He then closed the hurdle door of the hut upon her and returned to his meal with Woodchuck, keeping up with him for half an hour a sort of conversation by words and signs, one-half of which was probably unintelligible to both. The Frenchman then took possession of another hut, and invited Woodchuck to share it with him for the night; but the stout woodsman declined any covering but the sky, and stretching himself across Edith's door, was soon in profound slumber. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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