Chapter 9: The Watcher

It was with emotion that Robert came to Albany, an emotion that was shared by his Onondaga comrade, Tayoga, who had spent a long time in a white school there. The staid Dutch town was the great outpost of the Province of New York in the wilderness, and although his temperament was unlike that of the Dutch burghers he had innumerable pleasant memories of it, and many friends there. It was, in his esteem, too, a fine town, on its hills over-looking that noble river, the Hudson, and as the little group rode on he noted that despite the war its appearance was still peaceful and safe.

Their way led along the main street which was broad and with grass on either side. The solid Dutch houses, with their gable ends to the street, stood every one on its own lawn, with a garden behind it. Every house also had a portico in front of it, on which the people sat in summer evenings, or where they visited with one another. Except that it was hills where the old country was flat, it was much like Holland, and the people, keen and thrifty, had preserved their national customs even unto the third and fourth generations. Robert understood them as he understood the Hodenosaunce, and, with his adaptable temperament, and with his mind that could understand so readily the minds of others, he was able to meet them on common ground. As they rode into the city he looked questioningly at Willet, and the hunter, understanding the voiceless query, smiled.

“We couldn’t think of going to any other place,” he said. “If we did we could never secure his forgiveness.”

“I shall be more than glad to see him. A right good friend of ours, isn’t he, Tayoga?”

“Though his tongue lashes us his heart is with us,” replied the Onondaga. “He is a great white chief, three hundred pounds of greatness.”

They stopped before one of the largest of the brick houses, standing on one of the widest and neatest of the lawns, and Robert and Tayoga, entering the portico, knocked upon the door with a heavy brass knocker. They heard presently the rattle of chains inside, and the rumble of a deep, grumbling voice. Then the two lads looked at each other and laughed, laughed in the careless, joyous way in which youth alone can laugh.

“It is he, Mynheer Jacobus himself, come to let us in,” said Robert.

“And he has not changed at all,” said Tayoga. “We can tell that by the character of his voice on the other side of the door.”

“And I would not have him changed.”

“Nor would I.”

The door was thrown open, but as all the windows were closed there was yet gloom inside. Presently something large, red and shining emerged from the dusk and two beams of light in the center of the redness played upon them. Then the outlines of a gigantic human figure, a man tall and immensely stout, were disclosed. He wore a black suit with knee breeches, thick stockings and buckled shoes, and his powdered hair was tied in a queue. His eyes, dazzled at first by the light from without, began to twinkle as he looked. Then a great blaze of joy swept over his face, and he held out two fat hands, one to the white youth and one to the red.

“Ah, it iss you, Robert, you scapegrace, and it iss you, Tayoga, you wild Onondaga! It iss a glad day for me that you haf come, but I thought you both dead, und well you might be, reckless, thoughtless lads who haf not the thought uf the future in your minds.”

Robert shook the fat hand in both of his and laughed.

“You are the same as of old, Mynheer Jacobus,” he said, “and before Tayoga and I saw you, but while we heard you, we agreed that there had been no change, and that we did not want any.”

“And why should I change, you two young rascals? Am I not goot enough as I am? Haf I not in the past given the punishment to both uf you und am I not able to do it again, tall and strong as the two uf you haf grown? Ah, such foolish lads! Perhaps you haf been spared because pity wass taken on your foolishness. But iss it Mynheer Willet beyond you? That iss a man of sense.”

“It’s none other than Dave, Mynheer Jacobus,” said Robert.

“Then why doesn’t he come in?” exclaimed Mynheer Jacobus Huysman. “He iss welcome here, doubly, triply welcome, und he knows it.”

“Dave! Dave! Hurry!” called Robert, “or Mynheer Jacobus will chastise you. He’s so anxious to fall on your neck and welcome you that he can’t wait!”

Willet came swiftly up the brick walk, and the hands of the two big men met in a warm clasp.

“You see I’ve brought the boys back to you again, Jacob,” said the hunter.

“But what reckless lads they’ve become,” grumbled Mynheer Huysman. “I can see the mischief in their eyes now. They wass bad enough when they went to school here und lived with me, but since they’ve run wild in the forests this house iss not able to hold them.”

“Don’t you worry, Jacob, old friend. These arms and shoulders of mine are still strong, and if they make you trouble I will deal with them. But we just stopped a minute to inquire into the state of your health. Can you tell us which is now the best inn in Albany?”

The face of Mynheer Jacobus Huysman flamed, and his eyes blazed in the center of it, two great red lights.

“Inn! Inn!” he roared in his queer mixture of English, Dutch and German accent “Iss it that your head hass been struck by lightning und you haf gone crazy? If there wass a thousand inns at Albany you und Robert und Tayoga could not stop at one uf them. Iss not the house uf Jacobus Huysman good enough for you?”

Robert, Tayoga and the hunter laughed aloud.

“He did but make game of you, Mynheer Jacobus,” said Robert. “We will alter your statement and say if there were a thousand inns in Albany you could not make us stay at any one of them. Despite your commands we would come directly to your house.”

Mynheer Jacobus Huysman permitted himself to smile. But his voice renewed its grumbling tone.

“Ever the same,” he said. “You must stay here, although only the good Lord himself knows in what condition my house will be when you leave. You are two wild lads. It iss not so strange uf you, Robert Lennox, who are white, but I would expect better uf Tayoga, who is to be a great Onondaga chief some day.”

“You make a great mistake, Mynheer Jacobus,” said Robert. “Tayoga is far worse than I am. All the mischief that I have ever done was due to his example and persuasion. It is my misfortune that I have a weak nature, and I am easily led into evil by my associates.”

“It iss not so. You are equally bad. Bring in your baggage und I will see if Caterina, der cook, cannot find enough for you three, who always eat like raging lions.”

The soldiers, who were to return immediately to Colonel William Johnson, rode away with their horses, and Robert, Tayoga and Willet took their packs into the house of Mynheer Huysman, who grumbled incessantly while he and a manservant and a maidservant made them as comfortable as possible.

“Would you und Tayoga like to haf your old room on the second floor?” he said to Robert.

“Nothing would please us better,” replied the lad.

“Then you shall haf it,” said Mynheer, as he led the way up the stair and into the room. “Do you remember, Tayoga, how wild you wass when you came here to learn the good ways und bad ways uf the white people?”

“I do,” replied Tayoga, “and the walls and the roof felt oppressive to me, although we have stout log houses of our own in our villages. But they were not our own walls and our own roof, and there was the great young warrior, Lennox, whom we now call Dagaeoga, who was to stay in the same room and even in the same bed with me. Do you wonder that I felt like climbing out of a window at night, and escaping into the woods?”

“You were eleven then,” said Robert, “and I was just a shade younger. You were as strange to me as I was to you, and I thought, in truth, that you were going to run away into the wilderness. But you didn’t, and you began to learn from books faster than I thought was possible for one whose mind before then had been turned in another direction.”

“But you helped me, Dagaeoga. After our first and only battle in the garden, which I think was a draw, we became allies.”

“Und you united against me,” said Mynheer Huysman.

“And you helped me with the books,” continued Tayoga. “Ah, those first months were hard, very hard!”

“And you taught me the use of the bow and arrow,” continued Robert, “and new skill in both fishing and hunting.”

“Und the two uf you together learned new tricks und new ways uf making my life miserable,” grumbled Mynheer Huysman.

“But you must admit, Jacob,” said Willet, “that they were not the worst boys in the world.”

“Well, not the worst, perhaps, David, because I don’t know all the boys uf all the countries in the world, but when you put an Onondaga lad und an American lad together in alliance it iss hard to find any one who can excel them, because they haf the mischief uf two nations.”

“But you are tremendously glad to see them again, Jacob. Don’t deny it. I read it over and over again in your eyes.”

Willet’s own eyes twinkled as he spoke, and he saw also that there was a light in those of the big Dutchman. But Huysman would admit nothing.

“Here iss your room,” he said to Robert and Tayoga.

Robert saw that it was not changed. All the old, familiar objects were there, and they brought to him a rush of emotion, as inanimate things often do. On a heavy mahogany dresser lay two worn volumes that he touched affectionately. One was his Caesar and the other his algebra. Once he had hated both, but now he thought of them tenderly as links with, the peaceful boyhood that was slipping away. Hanging from a hook on the wall was an unstrung bow, the first weapon of the kind with which he had practiced under the teaching of Tayoga. He passed his hand over it gently and felt a thrill at the touch of the wood.

Tayoga, also was moving about the room. On a small shelf lay an English dictionary and several readers. They too were worn. He had spent many a grieving hour over them when he had come from the Iroquois forests to learn the white man’s lore. He recalled how he had hated them for a time, and how he had looked out of his school windows at the freedom for which he had longed. But he was made of wrought steel, both mind and body, and always the white youth, Lennox, his comrade, was at his elbow in those days of his scholastic infancy to help him. It had been a great episode in the life of Tayoga, who had the intellect of a mighty chief, the mind of Pontiac or Thayendanegea, or Tecumseh, or Sequoia. He had forced himself to learn and in learning his books he had learned also to like the people of another race around him who were good to him and who helped him in the first hard days on the new road. So the young Onondaga felt an emotion much like that of Robert as he walked about the room and touched the old familiar things. Then he turned to Huysman.

“Mynheer Jacobus,” he said, “you have a mighty body, and you have in it a great heart. If all the men at Albany were like you there would never be any trouble between them and the Hodenosaunee.”

“Tayoga,” said Huysman, “you haf borrowed Robert’s tongue to cozen und flatter. I haf not a great heart at all. I haf a very bad heart. I could not get on in this world if I didn’t.”

Tayoga laughed musically, and Mynheer Jacobus gruffly bidding them not to destroy anything, while he was gone, departed to see that Caterina, the Dutch cook, fat like her master, should have ready a dinner, drawing upon every resource of his ample larder. It is but truth to say that the heart of Mynheer Jacobus was very full. A fat old bachelor, with no near kin, his heart yearned over the two lads who had spent so long a period in his home, and he knew them, too, for what they were, each a fine flower of his own racial stock.

They were to remain several days in Albany, and after dinner they visited Alexander McLean, the crusty teacher who had given them such a severe drilling in their books. Master McLean allowed himself a few brief expressions of pleasure when they came into his house, and then questioned them sharply:

“Do you remember any of your ancient history, Tayoga?” he asked. “Are the great deeds of the Greeks and Romans still in your mind?”

“At times they are, sir,” replied the young Onondaga.

“Um-m. Is that so? What was the date of the battle of Zama?”

“It was fought 202 B.C., sir.”

“You’re correct, but it must have been only a lucky guess. I’ll try you again. What was the date of the battle of Hastings?”

“It was fought 1066 A.D., sir.”

“Very good. Since you have answered correctly twice it must be knowledge and not mere surmise on your part. Robert, whom do you esteem the greatest of the Greek dramatic poets?”

“Sophocles, sir.”

“Why?”

“Because he combined the vigor and power of Aeschylus with the polish and refinement of Euripides.”

“Correct. I see that you remember what I told you, as you have quoted almost my exact words. And now, lads, be seated, while I order refreshments for you.”

“We thank you, sir,” said Robert, “but ‘tis less than an hour since we almost ate ourselves to death at the house of Mynheer Jacobus Huysman.”

“A good man, Jacob, but too fat, and far too brusque in speech, especially to the young. I’ll warrant me he has been addressing upbraiding words to you, finding fault, perhaps, with your manners and your parts of speech.”

The two youths hid their smiles.

“Mynheer Jacobus was very good to us,” said Robert. “Just as you are, Master McLean.”

“I am not good to you, if you mean by it weakness and softness of heart. Never spoil the young. Speak sternly to them all the time. Use the strap and the rod freely upon them and you may make men of them.”

Again Robert and Tayoga hid their smiles, but each knew that he had a soft place in the heart of the crusty teacher, and they spent a pleasant hour with him. That night they slept in their old room at Mynheer Huysman’s and two days later they and Willet went on board a sloop for New York, where they intended to see Governor de Lancey. Before they left many more alarming reports about the French and Indians had come to Albany. They had made new ravages in the north and west, and their power was spreading continually. France was already helping her colonists. When would England help hers?

But Robert forgot all alarm in the pleasure of the voyage. It was a good sloop, it had a stout Dutch captain, and with a favoring wind they sped fast southward. Pride in the splendid river swelled in Robert’s soul and he and Tayoga, despite the cold, sat together on the deck, watching the lofty shores and the distant mountains.

But Willet, anxious of mind, paced back and forth. He had seen much at Albany that did not please him. The Indian Commissioners were doing little to cement the alliance with the Hodenosaunee. The Mohawks, alone of the great League, were giving aid against the French. The others remained in their villages, keeping a strict neutrality. That was well as far as it went, but the hunter had hoped that all the members of the Hodenosaunee would take the field for the English. He believed that Father Drouillard would soon be back among the Onondagas, seeking to sway his converts to France, and he dreaded, too, the activity and persistency of St. Luc.