Part 23 (1/2)
The dark figure vanished from beside the trunk, and Robert saw only the lofty slope, and the whirling snow. He pa.s.sed his hands before his eyes.
”Did we really see him?” he said.
”We beheld him alive and in the flesh,” replied the hunter, ”deep down in His Britannic Majesty's province of New York.”
”What could have brought him here at such a time?”
”The cause of France, no doubt. He speaks English as well as you and I, and he is probably in civilian clothing, seeking information for his country. I know something of St. Luc. He has in him a spice of the daring and romantic. Luck and adventure would appeal to him. He probably knows already what forces we have at Albany and Kingston and what is their state of preparation. Valuable knowledge for Quebec, too.”
”Do you think St. Luc will venture to New York?”
”Scarce likely, lad. He can obtain about all he wishes to know without going so far south.”
”I'm glad of that, Dave. I shouldn't want him to be captured and hanged as a spy.”
”Nor I, Robert. St. Luc is the kind of man who, if he falls at all in this war, should fall sword in hand on the battle field. He must know this region or he would not dare to come here, on such a terrible night. He has probably gone now to shelter. And, since there is nothing more to be seen we might do the same.”
But Robert and Tayoga were not willing to withdraw yet. Well wrapped and warm, they found a pleasure in the fierce storm that raged among the mountains and over the river, and their own security on the deck of the stout sloop, fastened so safely in the little cove. They listened to the wind rumbling anew like thunder through the deep gorges and clefts, and they saw the snow swept in vast curtains of white over the wild river.
”I wonder what we shall find in New York, Tayoga,” said Robert.
”We shall find many people, of many kinds, Dagaeoga, but what will happen to us there Manitou alone knows. But he has us in his keeping. Look how he watched over us in Quebec, and look how the sword of the Great Bear was stretched before you when your enemies planned to slay you.”
”That's true, Tayoga. I don't look forward to New York with any apprehension, but I do wonder what fate has prepared for us there.”
”We must await it with calm,” said Tayoga philosophically.
The Onondaga himself was not a stranger to New York. He had gone there once with the chiefs of the Hodenosaunee for a grand council with the British and provincial authorities, and he had gone twice with Robert when they were schoolboys together in Albany. His enlightened mind, without losing any of its dignity and calm, took a deep interest in everything he saw at the port, through which the tide of nations already flowed. He had much of the quality shown later by the fiery Thayendanegea, who bore himself with the best in London and who was their equal in manners, though the Onondaga, while as brave and daring as the Mohawk, was gentler and more spiritual, being, in truth, what his mind and circ.u.mstances had made him, a singular blend of red and white culture.
Willet, also wrapped in a long fur cloak, came from the cabin of the sloop and looked at the two youths, each of whom had such a great place in his heart. Both were white with snow as they stood on the deck, but they did not seem to notice it.
”Come now,” said the hunter with a.s.sumed brusqueness. ”You needn't stand here all night, looking at the river, the cliffs and the storm. Off to your berths, both of you.”
”Good advice, or rather command, Dave,” said Robert, ”and we'll obey it.”
Their quarters were narrow, because sloops plying on the river in those days were not large, but the three who slept so often in the forest were not seekers after luxury. Robert undressed, crept into his bunk, which was not over two feet wide, and slept soundly until morning. After midnight the violence of the storm abated. It was still snowing, but Captain Van Zouten unfurled his sails, made for the middle of the river, and, when the sun came up over the eastern hills, the sloop was tearing along at a great rate for New York.
So when Robert awoke and heard the groaning of timbers and the creak of cordage he knew at once that they were under way and he was glad. The events of the night before pa.s.sed rapidly through his mind, but they seemed vague and indistinct. At first he thought the vision of St. Luc on the cliff in the storm was but a dream, and he had to make an effort of the will to convince himself that it was reality. But everything came back presently, as vivid as it had been when it occurred, and rising he dressed and went on deck. Tayoga and Willet were already there.
”Sluggard,” said the Onondaga. ”The French wars.h.i.+ps would capture you while you are still in the land of dreams.”
”We'll find no French wars.h.i.+ps in the Hudson,” retorted Robert, ”and as for sluggards, how long have you been on deck yourself, Tayoga?”
”Two minutes, but much may happen in two minutes. Look, Dagaeoga, we come now into a land of plenty. See, how many smokes rise on either sh.o.r.e, and the smoke is not of camps, but of houses.”
”It comes from strong Dutch farmhouses, and from English manor houses, Tayoga. They nestle in the warm shelter of the hills or at the mouths of the creeks. Surely, the world cannot furnish a n.o.bler scene.”
All the earth was pure white from the fallen snow, but the river itself was a deep blue, reflected from the dazzling blue of the sky overhead. The air, thin and cold, was exhilarating, and as the sloop fled southward a panorama, increasing continually in magnificence, unfolded before them. Other vessels appeared upon the river, and Captain Van Zouten gave them friendly signals. Tiny villages showed and the sh.o.r.es were an obvious manifestation of comfort and opulence.