The Hidden Children

"We understand that you have four block-forts mounting cannon. That would argue barracks. Therefore, I don't think the danger is very considerable. Do you?"

"There is danger, of course," I said. "The entire Seneca nation is here with Indian Butler and Brant."

"Well, then, we'll turn your Butler into a turn-spit, and make of your wild Brant a domestic gander!"

He spoke coolly, a slight smile on his eager, handsome features. And I wondered how he could make a jest of this business, and how he could have permitted so mad a prank if he truly entertained any very deep regard for Lana Helmer.

"Danger," I repeated coldly. "Yes, there is a-plenty of that hereabouts, what with the Seneca scalping parties combing the woods around us, and the cattle-guard fired upon in plain sight of headquarters."

"Well, there were and still are some few scalping parties hanging around Otsego. I myself see no real reason why the ladies should not pay us a visit here, have their frolic, and later return with the heavier artillery down the river to Easton. Or, if they choose, they shall await our return from Catharines-town."

"And if we do not return? Have you thought of that, Boyd?"

"You shall not conjure me with any such forebodings!" he laughed. "This raid of ours will be no very great or fearsome affair. They'll run—your Brants and Butlers—I warrant you. And we'll follow and burn their towns. Then, like the French king of old, down hill we'll all go strutting, you and I and the army, Loskiel; and no great harm done to anybody or anything, save to the Senecas' squash harvest, and the sensitive feelings of Walter Butler!"

While he was speaking, I kept my eye on the slow batteau which led. Three boatmen poled it; Lois and Lana sat in the middle; behind them crouched two riflemen, long weapons ready, the ringed coon-tail floating in the breeze.

Neither of the ladies had yet recognized me; Lana leaned lightly against Lois, her cheek resting on her companion's shoulder.

A black rage against Boyd rose suddenly in my breast; and so savage and abrupt was the emotion that I could scarce stifle and subdue it.

"It is wrong for them to come," I said with an effort to speak calmly, "–utterly and wickedly wrong. Our block-forts are not finished. And when they are they will be more or less vulnerable. I can not understand why you did not make every effort to prevent their coming here."

"I made every proper effort," he said carelessly. "What man is vain enough to believe he can influence a determined woman?"

I did not like what he said, and so made him no answer.

"Is your camp still asleep?" he asked, yawning.

"Yes. The morning gun is usually fired at six."

"Can you lodge us and bait us until I make my report?"

"I can lodge the ladies and give breakfast to you all. How near is our main army?"

"Between twenty and thirty miles above—one can scarce tell the way this accursed river winds about. Our men are exhausted. They'll not arrive tonight. General Poor's men from this camp met us last night. Clinton desired me to take a few riflemen and push forward; and the ladies—except the fat one—begged so prettily to go with us that he consented. So we took two empty batteaux and a canoe and came on in advance, with no effort whatever."

"That was a rash business!" I said, controlling my anger. "The river woods along the Ouleout swarm with Seneca scouts. Didn't you understand that?"

"So I told 'em," he said, laughing, "but do you know, Loskiel, between you and me I believe that your pretty inamorata really loves the thrill of danger. And I know damned well that Lana Helmer loves it. For when we came through without so much as sighting a muskrat, 'What!' says she, 'Not a savage to be seen and not a shot fired! Lord,' says she, 'I had as lief take the air on Bowling Green—there being some real peril of beaux and macaronis!'"

Everything this man said now conspired to enrage me; and it was a struggle for me to restrain the bitter affront ever twitching at my lips for utterance. Perhaps I might not have restrained it any longer had I not seen Lois lean suddenly forward in her seat, shade her eyes with her hands, then stand up beside one of the boatmen. And I knew she recognized me.

Instantly within me all anger, rancour, and even dread melted in the warmer and more generous emotion which nigh overwhelmed me, so that for an instant I could scarce see her for the glimmering of my eyes.

But that passed; I went down to the shore and stood there while the clumsy boat swung inshore, the misty waves slapping at the bow and side. The landing planks lay on the gravel. Boyd and I laid them. Lana, wrapped in her camblet, crossed them first, giving me her hand with a pale smile. I laid my lips to it; she passed, Boyd moving forward beside her.

Then came Lois in her scarlet capuchin, eager and shy at the same time, smiling, yet with fearfulness and tenderness so strangely blended that ever her laughing eyes seemed close to tears and the lips that smiled were tremulous.

"I came—you see.... Are you angry?" she asked as I bent low over her little hand. "You will not chide me—will you, Euan?"

"No. What is done is done. Are you well, Lois?"

"Perfect in health, my friend. And if you truly are glad to see me, then I am content. But I am also very wet, Euan, spite of my capuchin. Lana and I have a common box. It belongs to her. May our boatmen carry it ashore?"

I gave brief directions to the men, returned the smiling salute of my wet riflemen from the other boat now drawing heavily inshore, and climbed the grassy bank with Lois to where Lana and Boyd stood under the trees awaiting us.

"I have but one bush-hut to offer you at present," I said. "Proper provision in barracks will be made, no doubt, as soon as the General learns who it is who has honoured him so unexpectedly with a visit."

"That's why we came, Euan—to honour General Sullivan," said Lois demurely. "Did we not, Lanette?"

Then again I noticed that the old fire, the old gaiety in Lana Helmer had been almost quenched. For instead of a saucy reply she only smiled; and even her eyes seemed spiritless as they rested on me a moment, then turned wearily elsewhere.

"You are much fatigued," I said to Lois.

"I? No. But my poor Lana slept very badly in the boat. Before dawn we went ashore for an hour's rest. That seemed sufficient for me, but Lana, poor dove, did not profit, I fear. Did you, dearest?"

"Very little," said Lana, forcing a gaiety she surely did not inspire in others with her haunted eyes that looked at everything, yet saw nothing—or so it seemed to me.

As we came to our bush-huts, Lois caught sight of the Sagamore for the first time, and held out both hands with a pretty cry of recognition:

"Nai, Mayaro!"

The Sagamore turned in silent astonishment; though when he saw Boyd there also his features became smooth and blank again. But he came forward with stately grace to welcome her; and, bending his crested head, took her hands and laid them lightly over his heart.

"Nai, Lois!" he exclaimed emphatically.

"Itoh, Mayaro!" she replied gaily, pressing his hands in hers. "I am that contented to see you! Are you not amazed to see me here?" she insisted, mischievously amused at his unaltered features.

The Sagamore said smilingly:

"When she wills it, who can follow the Rosy-throated Pigeon in her swift flight? Not the Enchantress in the moon. Tharon alone, O Rosy-throated One!"

"The wild pigeon has outwitted you all, has she not, Mayaro, my friend?"

"Nakwah! Let my brother Loskiel deny it, then. I, a Sagamore, know better than to deny a fire its ashes, or a wild pigeon its magic flight."

Boyd now spoke to the Mohican, who returned his greeting courteously, but very gravely. I then made the Mohican known to Lana, who gave him a lifeless hand from the green folds of her camblet. My Oneidas, who had finished their somewhat ominous painting, came from the other hut in company with the Yellow Moth, the latter now painted for the first time in a brilliant and poisonous yellow. All these people I made acquainted one with another. Lois was very gracious to them all, using what Indian words she knew in her winning greetings—and using them quite wrongly—God bless her!

Then the Yellow Moth hung my new blue blanket, which I had lately drawn from our Commissary of Issues, across the door of my hut; two huge boatmen came up with Lana's box, swung between them, and deposited it within the hut.

"By the time you are ready," said I, "we will have a breakfast for you such as only the streams of this country can afford."

The six o'clock gun awoke the camp and found me already at the General's tent, awaiting permission to see him.

He seemed surprised that Clinton had allowed any ladies to accompany the Otsego army, but it was evident that the happiness and relief he experienced at learning that Clinton was on the Ouleout had put him into a most excellent humour. And he straightway sent an officer with orders to remove Lana's box to Block-Fort No. 2 in the new fort, where were already domiciled the wives of two sergeants and a corporal, and gave me an order assigning to Lois and Lana a rough loft there.

But the General's chief concern and curiosity was for Boyd and the eight riflemen who had come through from the Ouleout as the first advanced guard of that impatiently awaited Otsego army; and I heard Boyd telling him very gaily that they were bringing more than two hundred batteaux, loaded with provisions. And, this, I think, was the best news any man could have brought to our Commander at that moment. One thing I do know; from that time Boyd was an indulged favourite of our General, who admired his many admirable qualities, his gay spirits, his dashing enterprise, his utter fearlessness; and who overlooked his military failings, which were rashness to the point of folly, and a tendency to obey orders in a manner which best suited his own ideas. Captain Cummings was a far safer man.