Chapter 4: The Gods At Play

De Galissonnière gazed at the three faces, peering at him over the brink, and then drew himself together jauntily. His position, perched on the face of the cliff, was picturesque, and he made the most of it.

“I am glad to see you again Mr. Willet, Mr. Lennox and Tayoga, the brave Onondaga,” he said. “It’s been a long time since we met in Québec and much water has flowed under that bridge of Avignon, of which we French sing, but I can’t see that any one of you has changed much.”

“Nor you,” said Robert, catching his tone and acting as spokesman for the three. “The circumstances are unusual, Captain Louis de Galissonnière, and I’m sorry I can’t invite you to come up on our crest, but it wouldn’t be military to let you have a look at our fortifications.”

“I understand, and I do very well where I am. I wish to say first that I am sorry to see you in such a plight.”

“And we, Captain, regret to find you allied with such a savage as Tandakora.”

A quick flush passed over the young Frenchman’s face, but he made no other sign.

“In war one cannot always choose,” he replied. “I have come to receive your surrender, and I warn you very earnestly that it will be wise for you to tender it. The Indians have lost one man already and they are inflamed. If they lose more I might not be able to control them.”

“And if we yield ourselves you pledge us our lives, a transfer in safety to Canada where we are to remain as prisoners of war, until such time as we may be exchanged?”

“All that I promise, and gladly.”

“You’re sure, Captain de Galissonnière, that you can carry out the conditions?”

“Absolutely sure. You are surrounded here on the peak, and you cannot get away. All we have to do is to keep the siege.”

“That is true, but while you can wait so can we.”

“But we have plenty of water, and you have none.”

“You would urge us again to surrender on the ground that it would be the utmost wisdom for us to do so?”

“It goes without saying, Mr. Lennox.”

“Then, that being the case, we decline.”

De Galissonnière looked up in astonishment at the young face that gazed down at him. The answer he had expected was quite the reverse.

“You mean that you refuse?” he exclaimed.

“It is just what I meant.”

“May I ask why, when you are in such a hopeless position?”

“Tayoga, Mr. Willet and I wish to see how long we can endure the pangs of thirst without total collapse. We’ve had quite a difference on the subject. Tayoga says ten days, Mr. Willet twelve days, but I think we can stand it a full two weeks.”

De Galissonnière frowned.

“You are frivolous, Mr. Lennox,” he said, “and this is not a time for light talk. I don’t know what you mean, but it seems to me you don’t appreciate the dire nature of your peril. I liked you and your comrades when I met you in Québec and I do not wish to see you perish at the hands of the savages. That is why I have climbed up here to make you this offer, which I have wrung from the reluctant Tandakora. It was he who assured me that the besieged were you. It pains me that you see fit to reject it.”

“I know it was made out of a good heart,” said Robert, seriously, “and we thank you for the impulse that brought you here. Some day we may be able to repay it, but we decline because there are always chances. You know, Captain, that while we have life we always have hope. We may yet escape.”

“I do not see wherein it is possible,” said the young Frenchman, with actual reluctance in his tone. “But it is for you to decide what you wish to do. Farewell.”

“Farewell, Captain de Galissonnière,” said Robert, with the utmost sincerity. “I hope no bullet of ours will touch you.”

The captain made a courteous gesture of good-by and slowly descended the slope, disappearing among the bushes in the gorge, whence came a fierce and joyous shout.

“That was the cry of the savages when he told them our answer,” said Willet. “They don’t want us to surrender. They think that by-and-by we’ll fall into their hands through exhaustion, and then they can work their will upon us.”

“They don’t know about that fountain, that pure, blessed fountain,” said Robert, “the finest fountain that gushes out anywhere in this northern wilderness, the fountain that Tayoga’s Areskoui has put here for our especial benefit.”

His heart had become very light and, as usual when his optimism was at its height, words gushed forth. Water, and their ability to get it whenever they wanted it, was the key to everything, and he painted their situation in such bright colors that his two comrades could not keep from sharing his enthusiasm.

“Truly, Dagaeoga did not receive the gift of words in vain,” said Tayoga. “Golden speech flows from him, and it lifts up the minds of those who hear. Manitou finds a use for everybody, even for the orator.”

“Though it was a hard task, even for Manitou,” laughed Robert.

They watched the whole afternoon without any demonstration from the enemy--they expected none--and toward evening the Onondaga, who was gazing into the north, announced a dark shadow on the horizon.

“What is it?” asked Robert. “A cloud? I hope we won’t have another storm.”

“It is no cloud,” replied Tayoga. “It is something else that moves very fast, and it comes in our direction. A little longer and I can tell what it is. Now I see; it is a flight of wild pigeons, a great flock, hundreds of thousands, and millions, going south to escape the winter.”

“We’ve seen such flights often.”

“So we have, but this is coming straight toward us, and I have a great thought, Dagaeoga. Areskoui has not only forgiven us for our unknown sin--perhaps of omission--but he has also decided to put help in our way, if we will use it. You see many dwarf trees at the southern edge of the crest, and I believe that by dark they will be covered with pigeons, stopping for the night.”

“And some of them will stop for our benefit, though we have bear meat too! I see, Tayoga.”

Robert watched the flying cloud, which had grown larger and blacker, and then he saw that Tayoga was right. It was an immense flock of wild pigeons, and, as the twilight fell, they covered the trees upon their crest so thickly that the boughs bent beneath them. Young Lennox and the Onondaga killed as many as they wished with sticks, and soon, fat and juicy, they were broiling over the coals.

“Tandakora will guess that the pigeons have fed us,” said Robert, “and he will not like it, but he will yet know nothing about the water.”

They climbed down in turn in the darkness and took a drink, and Robert, who explored a little, found many vines loaded with wild grapes, ripe and rich, which made a splendid dessert. Then he took a number of the smaller but very tough stems, and knotting them together, with the assistance of Tayoga ran a strong rope from the crest down to the fountain, thus greatly easing the descent for water and the return.

“Now we can take two drinks where we took one before,” he said triumphantly when the task was finished. “If you have your water there is nothing like making it easy to be reached. Moreover, while it was safe for an agile fellow like me, you and Dave, Tayoga, being stiff and clumsy, might have tumbled down the mountain and then I should have been lonesome.”

Willet, who had been keeping the watch alone, was inclined to the belief that they might expect an attack in the night, if it should prove to be very dark. He felt able, however, should such an attempt come, to detect the advance of the savages, either by sight or hearing, especially the latter, ear in such cases generally informing him earlier than eye. But as neither Robert nor Tayoga was busy they joined him, and all three sat near the brink with their rifles across their knees, and their pistols loosened in their belts, ready for their foes should they come in numbers.

They talked a while in low tones, and then fell silent. The night had come, starless and moonless, favorable to the designs of Tandakora, but they felt intense satisfaction, nevertheless. It was partly physical. Robert’s making of an easy road to the water, the coming of the pigeons, to be eaten, apparently sent by Areskoui, and the ease with which they believed they could hold their lofty fortress, combined to produce a victorious state of mind. Robert looked over the brink once or twice at the steep slope, and he felt that the warriors would, in truth, be taking a mighty risk, if they came up that steep path against the three.

He and Tayoga, in the heavy darkness, depended, like Willet, chiefly on ear. It was impossible to see to the bottom of the valley, where the dusk had rolled up like a sea, but, as the night was still, they felt sure they could hear anyone climbing up the peak. In order to make themselves more comfortable they spread their blankets at the very brink, and lay down upon them, thus being able to repose, and at the same time watch without the risk of inviting a shot.

Young Lennox knew that the attack, if it came at all, would not come until late, and restraining his naturally eager and impatient temper, he used all the patience that his strong will could summon, never ceasing meanwhile to lend an attentive ear to every sound of the night. He heard the wind rise, moan a little while in the gorge and then die; he heard a fitful breeze rustle the boughs on the slopes and then grow still, and he heard his comrades move once or twice to ease their positions, but no other sound came to him until nearly midnight, and then he heard the fall of a pebble on the slope, absolute proof to one experienced as he that it had been displaced by the incautious foot of a climbing enemy.

The rattling of the pebble was succeeded by a long interval of silence, and the lad understood that too. The warriors, to whom time was nothing, fearing that suspicion had been aroused by the fall of the pebble, would wait until it had been lulled before resuming their advance. They would flatten themselves like lizards against the slope, not stirring an inch. But the three were as patient as they, and while a full hour passed after the slip of the stone before the slightest sound came from the slope, they did not relax their vigilance a particle. Then all three heard a slight rustle among the bushes and they peered cautiously over.

They were able to discern the dim outline of figures among the bushes about twenty feet below, and Wilier, who directed the defense, whispered that Tayoga and he would take aim, while Robert held his fire in reserve. Then the Onondaga and he picked their targets in the darkness and pulled trigger. Shouts, the fall of bodies and the crackling of rifles came back. A half dozen bullets, fired almost at random, whistled over their heads and then Robert sent his own lead at a shadow which appeared very clearly among the bushes, a crashing fall following at once.

Then the three, not waiting to reload, snatched out their pistols and held themselves ready for a further attack, if it should come. But it did not come. Even the rage of Tandakora had had enough. His second repulse had been bloodier than the first, and it had been proved with the lives of his warriors that they could not storm that terrible steep, in the face of three such redoubtable marksmen.

Robert heard a number of pebbles rolling now, but they were made by men descending, and the three, certain of abundant leisure, reloaded their rifles. Their eyes told them nothing, but they were as sure as if they had seen them that the warriors had disappeared in the sea of darkness with which the gulf was filled. The lad breathed a long sigh of relief.

“You’re justified in your satisfaction,” said Willet. “I think it’s the last direct attack they’ll make upon us. Now they’ll try the slow methods of siege and our exhaustion by thirst, and how it would make their venom rise if they knew anything about that glorious fountain of ours! Since it’s to be a test of patience, we’d better make things easy for ourselves. I’ll sit here and watch the slope, and, as the night is turning cold, you and Tayoga, Robert, can build a fire.”

There was a dip in the center of the crest, and in this they heaped the fallen wood, which here as elsewhere in the wilderness was abundant. Wood and water, two great requisites of primitive man, they had in plenty, and had it not been for their eagerness to go forward with their work they would have been content to stay indefinitely on the peak.

The fire was soon blazing cheerfully. Warriors on the opposing peaks or crest might see it, but they did not care. No bullets from rival heights could reach them and the light would appear to their enemies as a beacon of defiance, a sort of challenge that was very pleasing to Robert’s soul. He basked in the glow and heat of the coals, ate bear meat and wild pigeon for a late supper, and discoursed on the strength of their natural fortress.

“The peak was reared here by Areskoui for our especial benefit,” he said. “It is in every sense a tower of strength, water even being placed in its side that we might not die of thirst.”

“And yet we cannot stay here always,” said the Onondaga. “Tomorrow we must think of a way of escape.”

“Let tomorrow take care of itself. Tayoga, you’re too serious! You’re missing the pleasure of the night.”

“Dagaeoga loves to talk and he talks well. His voice is pleasant in my ear like to the murmur of a silver brook. Perhaps he is right. Lo! the clouds have gone, and I can see Tododaho on his star. Areskoui watches over us by day and Tododaho by night. We are once more the favorites of the Sun God and of the great Onondaga who went away to his everlasting star more than four centuries ago. Again I say Dagaeoga is right; I will enjoy the night, and let the morrow care for itself.”

He drew the folds of his blanket to his chin and stretched his length before the fire. Having made up his mind to be satisfied, Tayoga would let nothing interfere with such a laudable purpose. Soon he slept peacefully.

“You might follow him,” said Willet.

“I don’t think I can do it now,” said Robert. “I’ve a restless spirit.”

“Then wander about the peak, and I’ll take up my old place at the edge of the slope.”

Robert went back to the far side, where he had stretched his rope of grape vines down to the spring, and, craving their cool, fresh taste, he ate more of the grapes. He noticed then that they were uncommonly plentiful. All along the cliff they trailed in great, rich clusters, black and glossy, fairly asking to be eaten. In places the vines hung in perfect mazes, and he looked at them questioningly. Then the thought came to him and he wondered why it had been so slow of arrival. He returned to Willet and said:

“I don’t think you need watch any longer here, Dave.”

“Why?” was the hunter’s astonished reply.

“Because we’re going to leave the mountain.”

“Leave the mountain! It’s more likely, Robert, that your prudence has left you. If we went down the slope we’d go squarely into the horde, and then it would be a painful and lingering end for us.”

“I don’t mean the slope. We’re to go down the other side of the cliff.”

“Except here and near the bottom the mountain is as steep everywhere as the side of a house. The only way for us to get down is to fall down and then we’d stop too quick.”

“We don’t have to fall down, we’ll climb down.”

“Can’t be done, Robert, my boy. There’s not enough bushes.”

“We don’t need bushes, there are miles of grape vines as strong as leather. All we have to do is to knot them together securely and our rope is ready. If we eased our way to the spring with vines then we can finish the journey to the bottom of the cliff with them.”

The hunter’s gaze met that of the lad, and it was full of approval.

“I believe you’ve found the way, Robert,” said Willet. “Wake Tayoga and see what he thinks.”

The Onondaga received the proposal with enthusiasm, and he made the further suggestion that they build high the fire for the sake of deceiving the besiegers.

“And suppose we prop up two or three pieces of fallen tree trunk before it,” added Robert. “Warriors watching on the opposite slopes will take them for our figures and will not dream that we’re attempting to escape.”

That idea, too, was adopted, and in a few minutes the fire was blazing and roaring, while a stream of sparks drifted up merrily from it to be lost in the dusk. Near it the fragments of tree trunks set erect would pass easily, at a great distance and in the dark, for human beings. Then, while Willet watched, Robert and Tayoga knotted the vines with quick and dextrous hands, throwing the cable over a bough, and trying every knot with their double weight. A full two hours they toiled and then they exulted.

“It will reach from the clump of bushes about the fountain to the next clump below, which is low down,” said Robert, “and from there we can descend without help.”

They called Willet, and the three, leaving the crest which had been such a refuge for them and which they had defended so well, descended to the fountain. At that point they secured their cable with infinite care to the largest of the dwarf trees and let it drop over across a bare space to the next clump of bushes below, a distance that seemed very great, it was so steep. Robert claimed the honor of the first descent, but it was finally conceded to Tayoga, who was a trifle lighter.

The Onondaga fastened securely upon his back his rifle and his pack containing food, and then, grasping the cable firmly with both hands, he began to go down, while his friends watched with great anxiety. He was not obliged to swing clear his whole weight, but was able to brace his feet against the cliff. Thus he steadied the vines, but Robert and Willet nevertheless breathed great sighs of relief, when he reached the bushes below, and detached himself from the cable.