the august night was close and still as alagwa and peter bondie stole out of the hotel to make their way to major stickney’s. the moon had not yet risen but the great stars that blazed across the immeasurable vault of the sky diffused almost as great a light. fire-flies sparkled and pale-winged moths, white blots amid the shadows, fluttered over the dried grass and dusty trails that crossed the prairie. the hum of mosquitoes and the ceaseless rune of locusts filled the air. in the distance the unruffled waters of the maumee reflected the stars and the blue-black interstices of the sky.
neither alagwa nor bondie, however, was thinking of the beauty of the night. carefully they stole along, moving like dark shadows, every nerve tense, every faculty of body and mind concentrated, watching every bush lest it might hide some of the savages of whom metea had spoken. foot by foot they crept along, using every artifice that years upon the frontier had taught to bondie and that life among the shawnees had taught to alagwa.
nothing happened, however. either metea had lied about his men or else had not thought it worth while to set a guard on the hotel, well knowing[233] that escape was hopeless and not dreaming that ether bondie or alagwa would take the extreme step of warning the fort.
beside the walls of the fort, close to the ford across the shrunken waters of the maumee, stood the united states factory. at one side of it, beneath a tree, captain wells’s miami wife and his three children were laughing softly, not knowing that far to the west their husband and father was lying dead amid a ring of blood-stained bodies. in front of the door itself major stickney was sitting, striving to get a breath of fresh air to cool the fever that racked his body.
when he saw alagwa and bondie his face lighted up. “come and sit down,” he called, eagerly, scrambling to his feet. “is it hot enough for you?”
neither visitor answered the question. alagwa glanced at bondie, and the frenchman stepped closer. “captain wells is kill,” he whispered. “captain heald and all the garrison at fort dearborn are kill. winnemac and his pottawatomies have kill them. perhaps some are prisoners, but i think it not.”
stickney’s fever-flushed face suddenly paled. “good god!” he cried. then with sudden recollection he gestured toward the woman and children beneath the tree. “careful! careful!” he begged,[234] tense and low. then again: “good god! it can’t be true. are you sure?”
bondie nodded. “it is true. the news have just come. tomorrow otucka, who lead the miamis who went with captain wells, will take the news to the fort. but that is not all. there is worse to come.”
stickney caught at the log wall of the building before which he stood. “worse?” he echoed. “worse? what worse can there be?”
bondie shook his head. “there is much worse,” he said. “general hull have play the coward. he have surrender detroit and all his men.”
stickney stared. then an expression of relief came over his face and he laughed. “oh! nonsense!” he exclaimed. “that’s foolishness. hull surrender! i guess not. captain wells and the fort dearborn garrison might be cut off, but hull couldn’t surrender. if the same man told you about wells, perhaps he’s safe too. of course you did right to bring me the news and i’m grateful. but it’s all foolishness—just a rumor. tomorrow we’ll laugh at it.”
“it is no rumor. it is all true. tomorrow it will be confirm. and even yet that is not all.” bondie spoke gravely, apparently minding not at all mr. stickney’s disbelief in his news. “it was metea who bring the news from detroit. it was winnemac and the pottawatomies who have kill[235] captain wells. now winnemac comes to this place with his warriors. some are here now. in two days the rest will be here. they will attack the fort. in a month the british will come with the big guns to help them. it is true, monsieur, all true! sacre nom! am i one to tell lies? it is all true.”
stickney dropped weakly into his chair. bondie’s earnestness and the confirmation which alagwa’s silence lent had its weight with him. almost he believed. shuddering, half from horror and half from illness, he lay silent for a moment.
then he raised his head. “have you told lieutenant hibbs?” he asked.
bondie shrugged his shoulders. “lieutenant hibbs is a fool,” he said, not angrily, but as one who states a well-known fact. “he speaks with a loud voice, cursing everyone. he will not believe me, no matter what i say. so i come to you.”
stickney got up. “we must go to him at once,” he said. “come.” he started down the path toward the fort, then paused and hesitated, glancing at the woman and children beneath the tree. then he went on. “poor woman,” he murmured. “let her be happy a little longer.”
at the gate of the fort the three were compelled to wait while a messenger went to notify mr. hibbs that major stickney wished to see him on a matter of grave importance. plainly the captain was not anxious to receive visitors, for it was long[236] before the messenger came back, bringing grudging permission for the three to enter. “the lieutenant’s in the messhall,” he said, carelessly. “he’ll see you there!”
the messhall was a log cabin, long and low, that paralleled the southern wall of the fort. as the three approached it their ears were saluted with loud laughter and clinking of glasses. clearly, it was the scene of high revelry.
inside, at the head of the table, sat lieutenant hibbs, goblet in hand, flanked by williams, murderer of wilwiloway and half a dozen others, all traders or petty officers. half a dozen smoky tallow dips threw a flaring light on the flushed faces of the revellers, but did not dispel the dim shadows that crept about the walls.
hibbs glanced at stickney with a flicker of irritation in his eyes. he made no attempt to rise, nor did he invite his visitors to sit down.
“what the devil’s the matter, stickney?” he growled. “what do you want here at this time of the night. can’t you let a man have a minute to himself?”
stickney’s face was grim. “i have just received very serious news,” he said; “and i have brought it to you. it is very serious—more serious than i can say.”
hibbs glared at stickney; then he glanced at alagwa and his eyes grew scornful. “news!” he[237] growled. “i suppose you got it from that worthless scamp”—he gestured at bondie—“and from that d—d indian-bred cub. to h—l with such news. i wouldn’t believe such dogs on oath.”
“you’ve got to believe them this time. i doubted the news myself at first, but now i am convinced that it is true. send away your boon companions and listen.”
captain hibbs threw himself back in his chair. in the flickering candle light his blotched features writhed and twisted. “i haven’t any secrets from my friends,” he growled. “spit out your news, or get out of here yourself. likely it’s some cock and bull story.”
stickney shrugged his shoulders. after all, why should he care who heard what he had to say? the news could not be suppressed. on the morrow it would be known to all, and it might as well be told at once. with a tense energy, born perhaps of the ague that was racking his body and of the weakness that he realized was fast overcoming him, he spoke.
“spit it out?” he echoed. “by god! i will spit it out! do you know that while you are revelling here the pottawatomies are dancing over the dead bodies of captain wells, captain heald, and all the men, women, and children who were at fort dearborn? do you know that general hull has surrendered detroit and twenty-five hundred[238] men to the british? do you know that in two days this fort will be surrounded by redskins and all communication between it and the outside world will be cut off. do you know that the british are preparing to bring cannon up the maumee to batter down your walls? do you know this, lieutenant hibbs, you to whose care this fort and the honor of the country have been committed?”
stickney staggered and clutched at the edge of the table for support. his strength was failing him.
but his work was done. as he spoke the jeers of his auditors died away and silence fell. alagwa, watching, could see the drink dying out of the faces of the listeners.
suddenly mr. hibbs staggered to his feet. his atramentous face had grown pale; his nostrils twitched; his chin sagged. “it’s a lie!” he blustered; “a lie cooked up by yonder dog and by that half-breed cub. it’s a lie.”
stickney’s fever had come upon him and he was shaking in its grip. “it’s no lie,” he gasped. “it’s the truth! and there’s no time to lose. preparations must be made this very night to send away the women and children, and to make the fort ready for a siege.”
hibbs’s eyes widened. “tonight?” he gasped. “you’re mad, stickney, mad.” his voice came[239] clearer. the news had well-nigh sobered him. “if this news is confirmed——”
“confirm it now. send men to the miami village across the river and see what word they bring back. don’t lose a moment. but let them be careful. twenty pottawatomies are here already and others are coming. your scouts may be cut off. and hurry, hurry, hurry! tonight you can do many things that will be impossible tomorrow. for god’s sake, mr. hibbs! for god’s sake——” stickney’s voice failed him, and he staggered. alagwa pushed a stool forward and he sank upon it and leaned forward upon the table, panting.
mr. hibbs was recovering himself. he glanced at the faces of his boon companions and saw that stickney’s words had carried conviction. the necessity of asserting himself came strong upon him. “damnation!” he roared, drawing himself up. “i know my duty and i’ll attend to it without advice from you or anybody else. but i won’t be stampeded. i’ll send out and inquire among the miamis. when i get confirmation i’ll act. but i’m not going to act on the say-so of two worthless half-injun curs and of a greenhorn out of his head with fever. now get out and take that scum with you.” he jerked his head at peter and alagwa.
the listeners nodded. there was sense in the captain’s decision. after all, the reports might not be true. stickney believed them, but he was an[240] ill man, fever racked, likely to see things deceptively. it would be folly to break up existing conditions on his single word.
alagwa had not opened her mouth. silently she had waited and listened. she herself was so sure of the truth of the tale that she and bondie had brought that she had not doubted that it would bring conviction to others. and now mr. hibbs refused to believe it or to act upon it without delay.
and delay would be fatal to herself and perhaps to jack. metea would come for her at dawn. before then she must make sure of jack’s safety. despairingly she looked to stickney for help, only to find him half-unconscious, shaking with fever. clearly he was incapable of doing more. if she was to gain immediate refuge she must gain it by her own efforts.
she looked at the captain and fury swelled in her bosom. alagwa hated and loved with equal intensity, and she had hated hibbs since the day she first saw him—the day he had scoffed at jack. now—now——
recklessly she sprang forward and thumped with her clenched fist upon the table. the subservience to authority ingrained in her as in every indian woman had vanished. her white blood was in the ascendency.
“listen!” she flamed. “listen while i speak. i bring you news that the tomahawks are up against[241] you. in return you call me scum. it is well. i want not your good will. think you i bring you news because i love you? not so! i hate you! i hate you all, dogs and murderers that you are. gladly would i see you all at the stake. my heart is not white, it is red. why, then, do i warn you? i warn you because my friend, jack telfair, one of your own blood, one of a family high in the councils of the great white father at washington—because he is ill and unprotected. i ask not your help for myself. i ask it for him and for peter bondie and his sister, who at my bidding took their lives in their hands to bring you warning. metea and the pottawatomies keep watch upon us. at dawn they will come. are we to be murdered because we warn you?”
hibbs glared at the girl. but he was plainly uneasy. he had forgotten about jack. now he remembered. he remembered, too, that information had come to him lately that the young fellow’s family was of importance. still he blustered. “hear the young cockerel crow!” he jeered. “what’s this metea fellow coming to you at dawn for?”
alagwa colored. she had forgotten her anomalous position.
as she hesitated williams burst in. “what’s he coming for?” he jeered. “what you reckon he’s coming for? these injun-bred cubs are always[242] snakes in the grass. i’ll bet this boy’s been playing spy for the britishers and the shawnees ever since he’s been here.”
alagwa gasped. williams had hit upon the truth. that he did not know that he had hit upon it made his words little less appalling to the girl. after all she was only a girl, a child in years, trying desperately hard to play the man. stickney was ill and bondie incapable. she was practically alone against a dozen men. the fury that had sustained her went out of her, and she shrank back.
williams saw her terror and jeered at her. “what’d i tell you,” he cried. “the cub’s a liar and a spy. he ought to be shot, d— him!”
for a moment more the girl faced the mocking men. her lips quivered; her breast heaved. desperately she fought for self control. then all at once she gave way. across her face she flung her arm, and bent forward, her whole body shaking with wild hysterical sobs.
instantly williams sprang forward, crying out in evil triumph. “i knowed it!” he yelled. “i knowed it. look at him. look at his figger. he ain’t no boy. he’s a girl. i’d a guessed it long ago, but she was so d— slim and straight. but she’s been a-growing and developing. look at her now. she’s a girl, a girl, a girl, an’ she’s been travelling around with that jack telfair. the hussy! the baggage!”
[243]like molten lead williams’s words fell on the girl’s consciousness. she attempted no denial; denial would be useless. blindly she turned toward the door. as she did so it opened and three figures pushed through it. one, a huge woman, caught her in her arms. the other sprang past her. the sound of a blow—a clear, clean blow—came to her ears, followed by the crash of benches and table. then jack’s voice rose, chill with death.
“gentlemen,” he said. “i learned for the first time a few minutes ago that this lady was not a boy. within the hour, if she will do me the honor to accept me, she will be my wife. in any event, you will remember that henceforth her honor is mine and you will address her accordingly.”
