Part 34 (1/2)
”I do not, Dagaeoga. Sharp Sword keeps by himself, and now De Courcelles and Jumonville walk with the Ojibway chief. Here are their three trails, that of Tandakora between the other two. Doubtless the two Frenchmen are trying to make him their friend, and it is equally sure that they speak ill to him of St. Luc. But Sharp Sword does not care. He expects little from Tandakora and his warriors. He is thinking of Quebec and the great fight that Montcalm must make there against Wolfe. He is eager to arrive at Stadacona, which you call Quebec, and help Montcalm. He knows that it is all over here on Andiatarocte and Oneadatote, that Ticonderoga is lost forever, that Crown Point is lost forever, and that Isle-aux-Noix must go in time, but he hopes for Stadacona. Yet Sharp Sword is depressed. He does not walk with his usual spring and courage. His paces are shorter, and they are shorter because his footsteps drag. Truly, it was a dagger in the heart of Sharp Sword to give up Ticonderoga and Crown Point.”
”I can believe you, Tayoga,” said Willet. ”It's bitter to lose such lakes and such a land, and the French have fought well for them. Do you think there's any danger of our running into an ambush? It would be like Tandakora to lie in wait for pursuers.”
”I am not sure, Great Bear. He, like the Frenchman, is in a great hurry to reach Stadacona.”
An hour or two later they came to a dead campfire of St. Luc's force, and, a little farther on, a new trail, coming from the west, joined the Chevalier's. They surmised that it had been made by a band from Niagara or some other fallen French fort in that direction, and that everywhere along the border Montcalm was drawing in his lines that he might concentrate his full strength at Quebec to meet the daring challenge of Wolfe.
”But I take it that the drawing in of the French won't keep down scalping parties of the warriors,” said Willet. ”If they can find anything on the border to raid, they'll raid it.”
”It is so,” said Tayoga. ”It may be that Tandakora and his warriors will turn aside soon to see if they cannot ambush somebody.”
”In that case it will be wise for us to watch out for ourselves. You think Tandakora may leave St. Luc and lie in wait, perhaps, for us?”
”For any one who may come. He does not yet know that it is the Great Bear, Dagaeoga and I who follow. Suppose we go on a while longer and see if he leaves the main trail. Is it the wish of Great Bear and Dagaeoga?”
”It is,” they replied together.
They advanced several hours, and then the great trail split, or rather it threw off a stem that curved to the west.
”It is made by about twenty warriors,” said Tayoga, ”and here are the huge footsteps of Tandakora in the very center of it. I think they will go northwest a while, and then come back toward the main trail, hoping to trap any one who may be rash enough to follow Sharp Sword. But, if the Great Bear and Dagaeoga wish it, we will pursue Tandakora himself and ambush him when he is expecting to ambush others.”
The dark eyes of the Onondaga gleamed.
”I can see, Tayoga, that you're hoping for a chance to settle that score between you and the Ojibway,” said the hunter. ”Maybe you'll get it this time, and maybe you won't, but I'm willing to take the trail after him, and so is Robert here. We may stop a lot of mischief.”
It was then about two o'clock in the afternoon, and, as Tayoga said that Tandakora's trail was not more than a few hours old, they pushed on rapidly, hoping to stalk his camp that very night. The traces soon curved back toward St. Luc's and they knew they were right in their surmise that an ambush was being laid by the Ojibway. He and his warriors would halt in the dense bush beside the great trail and shoot down any who followed.
”We'll shatter his innocent little plan,” said Willet, his spirits mounting at the prospect.
”Tandakora will not build a fire to-night,” said Tayoga. ”He will wait in the darkness beside Sharp Sword's path, hoping that some one will come. He will lie in the forest like a panther waiting to spring on its prey.”
”And we'll just disturb that panther a little,” said Robert, appreciating the merit of their enterprise, which now seemed to all three a kind of great game.
”Aye, we'll make Tandakora think all the spirits of earth and air are after him,” said Willet.
They now moved with great caution as the trail was growing quite fresh.
”We will soon be back to Sharp Sword's line of march,” said Tayoga, ”and I think we will find Tandakora and his warriors lying in the bushes not more than a mile ahead.”
They redoubled their caution, and, when they approached a dense thicket, Robert and Willet lay down and Tayoga went on, creeping on hands and knees. In a half hour he came back and said that Tandakora and his band were in the thicket watching the great trail left by St. Luc.
”The Ojibway does not dream that he himself is being watched,” said the Onondaga, ”and now I think we would better eat a little food from our knapsacks and wait until the dark night that is promised has fully come.”
Tayoga's report was wholly true. Tandakora and twenty fierce warriors lay in the thicket, waiting to fall upon those who might follow the trail of St. Luc. He had no doubt that a force of some kind would come.
The Bostonnais and the English always followed a retreating enemy, and experience never kept them from walking into an ambush. Tandakora was already counting the scalps he would take, and his savage heart was filled with delight. He had been aghast when Bourlamaque abandoned Ticonderoga and Crown Point. Throughout the region over which he had been roaming for three or four years the Bostonnais would be triumphant.
Andiatarocte and Oneadatote would pa.s.s into their possession forever.
The Ojibway chief belonged far to the westward, to the west of the Great Lakes, but the great war had called him, like so many others of the savage tribes, into the east, and he had been there so long that he had grown to look upon the country as his own, or at least held by him and his like in partners.h.i.+p with the French, a belief confirmed by the great victories at Duquesne and Oswego, William Henry and Ticonderoga.
Now Tandakora's whole world was overthrown. The French were withdrawing into Canada. St. Luc, whom he did not like, but whom he knew to be a great warrior, was retreating in haste, and the invincible Montcalm was beleaguered in Quebec. He would have to go too, but he meant to take scalps with him. Bostonnais were sure to appear on the trail, and they would come in the night, pursuing St. Luc. It was a good night for such work as his, heavy with clouds and very dark. He would creep close and strike before his presence was even suspected.
Tandakora lay quiet with his warriors, while night came and its darkness grew, and he listened for the sound of men on the trail. Instead he heard the weird, desolate cry of an owl to his left, and then the equally lone and desolate cry of another to his right. But the warriors still lay quiet. They had heard owls often and were not afraid of them.