How Canada Was Won: A Tale of Wolfe and Quebec

He stepped to the bank of the river, waded in a little way and recovered the plaque, the sun glancing from the bright tin having made its position clear to those standing on the shore.

"Best keep it, lad," he went on. "It'll mind yer of a time when yer was precious near to death, and of the pluck as a youngster kin show. Reckon you stood up to them 'ere skunks as well as any man could ha done."

There was a murmur of approval from the others, while Steve shook his head.

"I wasn't going to be frightened by a canoe full of Frenchmen," he said doggedly. "This place is ours, and if this king wants it let him come and take it. The best man will hold it in the end. But I suspect it is not his Majesty of France. Louis XV. can have no great use for our little holding. But Jules Lapon has. He owns the ground on the far side next to father's, and with ours thrown in he'd have the whole of the river banks for three miles either way."

"You've hit it, Steve. It air that skunk as brought this bit of tin along, and it air him as wants the place," cried Jim, staring out across the river at the fast-retreating canoes. "What is more, lad, he's goin' to have it for a time. Me and Mac and Silver Fox guessed as there was somethin' up, and ever since daylight we've had our eyes on the varmint. There was a lot too much movement amongst the Injuns, and we reckoned it didn't mean good to us. Them critters has nailed their bits of tin at three other places along this bank, and they air going to take the land whether we want it or not."

"Do you actually mean that they will drive us out of the place?" asked Steve.

"That air so. There's news comin' slowly through that the French and their Injuns is movin' on and drivin' the British before 'em. There's tales of settlements attacked and taken, men and women scalped, and children carried off by them redskin devils. We've heard the same before, and I don't know how it is that we along here at this settlement have escaped so long. But reckon these fellers is out on the war-path agin, and, lad, we've got to git."

Go! They must leave the place where Steve had lived ever since he was a tiny little fellow. The log cabin which was his home must be given up to these Frenchmen and their allies! The thought was a cruel one, and it is not to be wondered at that an exclamation of bitterness escaped him.

"Faith, Steve, me lad, it's hard to think on, so it is," said Mac, coming to him and placing a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "Hasn't Mac and the loikes of him settled peaceful here? hasn't the wives and the childer made homes for all of us, so they have? But ye've to choose what's the best. To see these thavin' damons here in our very own places, or to see ivery mother's son of us, and the women and childer too – God bless the darlints! – scalped and kilt by these fellers. Sure, Steve, better to see the settlements burn, to put fires to ivery roof and watch 'em flare, than have them fellers settin' in our doorways, or scalpin' all of us. Och, but it's a sore time for us, a sore time, and we'll have to foight before we get back what's our own. Bedad! Ye'll know soon, Steve, darlint. 'Tis you and me, and Jim and Silver Fox, and ivery one of us, as'll take our muskets and go out to foight the blackguards."

"Mac's jest talkin' sense. Reckon it air as he says, Steve," cried Jim. "Yer was near bein' wiped clean out jest now, and if yer wait it'll be a case with yer. Best get back to the hut and take what yer want. You've a bit of a pony, and I fancy you'll be able to take most of yer things. Then set fire to the place. We'll cross to the Alleghanies, and then we'll take service with the regiments which are bein' formed."

Steve stood looking at his rough but honest-hearted friends for some few minutes, and then his eyes roamed across the peaceful stretch of the river to the far bank, under the shade of which Jules Lapon and his comrades were paddling. Then the whistle which the French leader had dropped caught his attention, and he stared at that, too, for a little while.

"Father would do the same," he said aloud, but addressing no one in particular. "Yes, he would go, after firing the hut. There is no other course open. We have often talked over the possible coming of the French, and decided that we should have to retire unless supported by troops. But they are nowhere here. We have only ourselves to rely on. We must go."

He led the way to the log cabin, and at once set about packing the most valuable of his and Tom's possessions. Sammy led out the old pony which was usually employed in dragging timber, and roped the articles to his back, big tears welling up in his eyes as he did so. When all was ready Steve took a brand from the fire, looked once more upon his old home, the cabin in which he had lived sixteen happy years, and then fired the shingles. There was an air of resolution on his face as he did so, and he stood to windward watching the flames as they caught hold and licked round the logs with the same expression. Then, as the roof fell in and huge tongues of flame flared up into the air, he turned away with a smile.

"I will help to build a mansion where that happy home was," he said. "Come Jim and Mac, and you too, Silver Fox, old friends, we will go where we can be of use to our country, and one of these days we will settle again in these parts, when the French have been driven into Canada."

"When they have been sent neck and crop out of North America," growled Jim. "Pick up yer traps, Steve. The other folks air waitin' for us way up there back of the rise."

Sammy took the rope bridle of the laden animal, and the trappers and their Indian friend fell in behind. And thus did Steve leave his home, not to return again till many an adventure had befallen him, and not till many and many a man had fallen in the contest which was about to break out with a ferocity which was almost unexampled.

Chapter VII

The Alleghany Raiders

Sad and heavy of heart were the settlers whom Steve and his friends met at the top of the divide which ran between the valley in which they had lived and the forest region beyond, stretching right away to the Alleghany mountains; for each one of the forty or more persons of whom the party consisted had just lost home and belongings. Men, women, and children had been forced to turn out of their log cabins and take to the woods.

"It air a shame and no mistake," said Jim as the men of the party gathered about Steve's pony and discussed the matter. "But there's jest one thing that makes it easy so to speak."

"Easy! Yer don't call it an easy thing to have to fire the hut that took so long to build, do yer, Huntin' Jim?" cried one of the trappers, Pete Jarvis by name, his brows contracting as his bitterness increased. "Yer don't say as it's an easy thing fer a man what's fifty and more to turn his back on what he's given years of his life to make, to steal like a skunk out'er these woods, where he's trapped and shot, and with his wife and children take the trail back to the west. Yer don't think that, Huntin' Jim. It's hard enough to break a man's heart."

"It air all that and more, chum," was Jim's consoling answer. "Neither me nor you, nor Mac, nor Steve, the young Hawk as he's known hereabouts, likes havin' to git at the word of them 'ere Frenchies. But fer all that I'm right. Ef it war winter where should we be?"

"'Tis then the poor childer would suffer, so they would," burst in Mac. "Sure, 'twould be the death of many a one, the poor darlints. Jim's right, so he is, Pete. We're lucky afther all."

Pete scratched his head at that, for the matter had never crossed his mind before. He had looked at this sudden exodus from a different point of view, and he was filled with bitterness and wrath. Still, now that he came to review the case, he saw that Jim was right.

"That air true," he admitted. "We've got a heap to be thankful for, and now that you've put it before me, why I'm downright glad that the time has come now, and not later. Still, boys, it air hard."

"It is, more than hard," agreed Steve. "But we still have something to be thankful for. We've been hearing tales of other settlements, and they have not even been able to leave. The Indians gave no warning. The French did not trouble to come along with their ridiculous bits of tin, but raided the places, burnt the huts, and massacred the poor settlers."

"And why ain't they done it here?" demanded Jim eagerly, clenching a big brown fist. "I'll tell yer, Steve, and you too Pete. It's 'cos that feller Jules Lapon air in these parts. Reckon he wanted them huts and crops. He don't want to walk in and find the hul place burnt by his Injuns. So he sends along and gives us the warnin' to quit, knowin' that once we've took the trail he can send the hul crowd of his Injun varmint after us. Waal. He ain't a goin' to get the huts, 'cos we've put fire to 'em, and the crops got served the same way. Ef we look after ourselves reckon he and them ugly red critters won't have such an easy time of it. We'd best get the business settled up."

There was, indeed, little doubt that the danger which had suddenly burst about the heads of the settlers was a real one, and that now that the Indians had risen in those parts, the party might be followed and attacked. For the past four or five months tales of massacres of English colonists had come to the ears of Steve and his friends. All along the border-line huts and settlements had been raided, too often suddenly and without any warning, and hundreds of unfortunate men, women, and children had been killed and scalped. An Indian war of the most ferocious description had been raging here and there on the eastern slopes of the Alleghany mountains, and in many places the enemy had burst over that range and had annihilated settlements on the far side. Marching with the Indians, egging them on, and sometimes vying with them in their cruel practices, were scores of French voyageurs and settlers, and even many young officers from the regular forces; whilst behind these leaders, stimulating them with promises of land, and aiding them with money, guns, and powder, were the authorities living in Quebec. It was really a matter for wonder that Steve and his friends had not been disturbed before, for they had carved out from the virgin forests a most valuable settlement, and one which may be said to have stood in the direct line of the French advance. It may have been that they owed their security from interference so far to the fact that the land nearest to them was owned by Jules Lapon, and he happened to be away in other parts murdering and slaying, and taking stores from any party of trappers who happened to stumble across his path. Or this ruffian may have purposely kept his Indian allies away, having determined to obtain possession of such a valuable clearing. Whatever the cause, it happened that this particular settlement had escaped till now, and had been left so long without interference that many who lived there were beginning to hope that the impending storm might after all pass over their heads. And now, with scarcely any warning, the cloud had burst. They had been ordered to quit, and to leave all that they possessed. It was more than hard. It was cruel to think that these hardy trappers, the pioneers of the land, had no one to look to for help, and must needs pack up hastily and fly for their lives at the bidding of a French monarch whose name had barely come to their ears.

"It does not help us to look upon the hardship of our case, boys," said Steve, as the men stood about him, dressed in their hunting shirts, their coon-skin caps, their fringed leggings and moccasins. "We ought to feel glad that we and the women and children are alive, and our business now is to make arrangements for our journey. Which way do we make?"

"Due west," answered Jim, with an emphatic wag of his head. "Up there somewheres on the Alleghanies we'll hit upon colonial troops. There ain't many of 'em, but they'll be enough to keep these redskin skunks away, and any of us as has a mind to can take on service with 'em. Ef we was to make north and west, up towards Albany – "

"Reckon that air out of the question," interrupted Pete. "I'm farthest over in that direction, and Silver Fox here can tell you that an army could not get through. West air our only way."

This was, in fact, the only direction in which the little party could make, for Silver Fox had brought information that roving bands of Indians were on the war-path between the settlement and Albany.

"Then we will turn west," said Steve. "We have got to protect ourselves, and I should say that the best way would be to send the women and children and half the men ahead, while we others wait and cover the retreat. I suppose we shall make for the old trail?"

"That air what we'll do," replied Jim. "Now, as we're all here, supposin' we pick out those who air to stay. Married men goes in advance ef possible. Mac, guess you'll lead. You're a good trapper and woodsman, and yer know that it'll want a 'cute man to see that the way's clear. Me and Steve and a few others'll take the rear."

With such matter-of-fact individuals, accustomed to acting swiftly and in sudden emergencies, it took only a few minutes to arrange the details of their flight, and very soon the party chosen to go in advance had moved off through the forest, Mac leading and searching closely for the blazings on the trees which would tell him that he had come across the trail which led to the mountains. After him went the married men, with their wives and children. The ponies, upon the backs of which the children and some of the women were mounted, were placed in line, and, being thoroughly well trained to work in the forest, stepped one after another along the track. Their rear was brought up by Sammy, leading the lanky pony upon which all Tom's and Steve's possessions were packed.

"Guess we'll give 'em a good hour's start," said Steve. "Jim, I'll make back and keep an eye on the river with Silver Fox. If all is right I'll strike once on the trunk of a tree. If they are following you will hear two blows."

He and the Indian slipped away from the little band of backwoodsmen, and within an hour were looking down upon the river which they had so recently left. It was black with canoes which were passing to and fro, while a number were drawn up in front of the bank where Steve had had his encounter with Jules Lapon. Above the tops of the trees hung a dense pall of smoke, a dozen other columns shewing where the settlers had fired their huts.

"They will follow to-morrow, Hawk," said Silver Fox, when he had looked at the scene for some little while. "They think that they will easily come up with us. In two days they will surround our party and we shall have to fight. It would be well to ambush them."

That set Steve thinking, and for an hour he lay there in the bracken staring down at the river. Then he got to his feet, picked up a fallen branch and struck the trunk of a massive tree a heavy blow, repeating the blow again some two minutes later.

"They will hear that," he said. "Now we will return, Silver Fox. Have you ever been on this trail?"

"Once, Hawk," was the answer.

"Do you remember the hills lying a day's march from this? There is a gap."

The Indian suddenly came to a stop, for they were returning by now, and stared into Steve's face. "The Hawk is sharp," he said, with a flash of his keen eyes. "Silver Fox remembers that gap. There we will lay an ambush."

They trudged on through the forest and presently came up with Jim and his comrades. Then, with two men scouting in the woods on either side, and the same number in rear and in front, the tiny little party of stern men strode on after the fugitives in advance. And when the morning of the second day broke they struggled up to the rising ground which Steve had mentioned to Silver Fox. It was a rugged and precipitous ridge, with trees growing thickly up to its foot, and thick, long scrub running to its summit. As Steve clambered to the top he saw that it stretched for some miles on either hand, and he knew that to cross it at any other spot would be a difficult task, for he and his father had often hunted in the district.

"It is just the place for us," he said to Jim, as the trapper and some of his comrades gathered about him. "From the forest down below the Indians who are pursuing will be able to get a glimpse of our party after it has climbed over this ridge, for the land rises again, and you can see for yourself that it towers above this place. Now what do you say to this? We send on the best of the horses, with all the women and children, and instruct them to get ahead to that piece of open country to which I am pointing. Meanwhile, we will lie here and prepare a nice little ambush."

"While the women and children draw the varmint into it," cried Jim, with every sign of satisfaction. "Steve, you air 'cute. I 'lowed that many a day ago, but here yer air agin. Boys, that air a plan that's worth workin'."

The spot was, in fact, an ideal one for an ambush, and Steve had had it in his mind's eye the whole of the previous two days, for he was well acquainted with the district. As he had said, this steep rocky ridge cut across the course of the fugitives, running for many miles on either hand. In many places it was almost unclimbable, and at this point it happened to be less severe, so much so that many a colonist making east into the promised land, the valley of the Ohio, had followed the blaze marks of those who had gone before him, and had clambered over the rise where others had found a road. It was the most natural thing, therefore, for this party of fugitives to take the same track, and indeed it was the only course that they could take. The Indians would know this, so Steve argued, and there was little doubt that by now they were within a few miles of the ridge. What would happen when they came up to it?

"They will climb over and wipe the whole lot of us out," our hero had said to himself. "We must stop them here if at all."

Then, as he tramped through the forest on the previous day, he had recollected that in approaching the ridge from the Ohio valley one caught a glimpse every now and again of the track far in advance, for the country to the west rose again, less sharply to be sure, but to a greater elevation. A party making their way over that second rise in the land would be instantly detected by the Indian pursuers, who would imagine that all their pale face enemies were there.

"It is our only chance," said Steve, as the men gathered about him. "Our scouts in rear have not yet signalled, so we know that the enemy are not yet up with us, though they were on our trail last night. Then we have plenty of time. In an hour the ponies, with the women and children, will be on the high ground beyond, and when the Indians see them – "