The Story of Old Fort Loudon Read online

  CHAPTER IV

  With the earliest flush of dawn Hamish MacLeod was seeking one of theofficers in order to solicit a guide to enable him to go in search ofhis brother with some chance of success.

  Captain Stuart, whom he finally found at the block-house in thenorthwestern bastion, was standing on the broad hearth of the greathall, where the fire was so brightly aflare that although it was day theplace had all the illuminated effect of its aspect of last night. Theofficer's fresh face was florid and tingling from a recent plunge in thecold waters of the Tennessee River. He looked at Hamish with anunchanged expression of his steady blue eye, and drawing the watch fromhis fob consulted it minutely.

  "The hunters of the post," he said, still regarding it, "have been gonefor more than half an hour. There is no use in trying to overtake them.They have their orders as to what kind of game they are to bring in."

  He smiled slightly, with the air of a man who in indulgent condescensionwould humor natural anxiety and overlook the effort of intermeddling,and as he returned the watch to his pocket, Hamish felt dismissed fromthe presence. The sun was well over the great range of purple bronzemountains in the east, their snowy domes a-glister in the brilliancebetween the dark slopes below and the blue sky above, and the fort, ashe came forth, was a scene of brisk activity. The parade ground hadalready been swept like a floor, and groups of soldiers were gatheredabout the barracks busily burnishing and cleaning their arms,pipe-claying belts and rotten-stoning buckles and buttons, and at thefurther end near the stables horses were in process of being groomed andfed; one of them, young and wild, broke away, and in a mad scamper, withtossing mane and tail, and head erect and hoofs scattering the gravel,plunged around and around the enclosure, baffling his groom. Adrill-sergeant was busy with an awkward squad; another squad withoutarms, in charge of a corporal, was marching and marching, making noprogress, but vigorously marking time, whether for exercise ordiscipline Hamish could hardly determine, for he began to have a veryawesome perception of the rigor of authority maintained in this frontierpost. He had noticed--and the gorge of a freeman had risen at thesight--a soldier mounted high upon a trestle, facetiously called ahorse, and he was well aware that this was by no means a new and a merrygame. Hamish wavered a little in his mental revolt against the powersthat be, as he noticed the reckless devil-may-care look of the man. Hewas a ruddy young fellow; he had a broad visage, with a wide, facetiousred-lipped mouth, a quick, blithe, brown eye, and a broad, blunt nose.Hamish knew intuitively that this was the typical inhabitant, thenative, so to speak, of the guard-house; his sort had ridden thewooden-horse, for many a weary hour in every country under the sun, andwhen an Indian's tomahawk or a Frenchman's bullet should clear the ranksof him, the gap would be filled by a successor so like him in spiritthat he might seem a lineal descendant instead of a mere successor inthe line. He had long ago been dubbed the "Devil's Dragoon," and helooked down with a good-humored glance at a bevy of his comrades, whofrom the door of the nearest log-cabin covertly cast gibes at him,calling out _sotto voce_, "Right about wheel--Trot!--March!"

  In another quarter of the parade the regular exercise was in progress,and Hamish listened with interest to the voice of the officer as it rangout crisp and clear on the frosty air.

  "Poise--Firelock!"

  A short interval while the sun glanced down the gleaming barrels of themuskets.

  "Cock--Firelock!"

  A sharp metallic click as of many sounds blent into one.

  "Take--Aim!"

  A moment of suspense.

  "Fire!"

  A resonant detonation of blank cartridges--and all the live echoesleaped in the woods, while the smoke drifted about the parade andglimmered prismatic in the sun, and then cleared away, escaping over theramparts and blending with the timorous dissolving mists of the morning.

  Several Indians had come in through the open gate, some arrayed infeather or fur match-coats and others in buckskin shirt and leggings,with their blankets purchased from the traders drawn up about theirears; they were standing near the walls of one of the block-houses tosee the drill. A certain expectancy hung upon this group as they watchedthe movements of the men now loading anew.

  "Half-cock--Firelock!" came the order in the peremptory voice of theofficer.

  Once more that sharp, metallic, unnerving click.

  "Handle--Cartridge!"

  A sudden swift facial expression went along the line with a formidableeffect. With the simultaneous show of strong teeth it was as if eachsoldier had fiercely snarled like a wild beast. But each had only bittenthe end of the cartridge.

  "Prime!"

  The eyes of the Indians followed with an unwinking, fascinated stare theswift, simultaneous movement of the rank as of one man, every muscleanimated by the same impulse.

  "Shut--Pan!"

  Once more the single sound as of many sounds.

  "Charge with--Cartridge!"

  The watchful eyes of the Indians narrowed.

  "Draw--Rammer!"

  Once more the loud, sharp, clash of metal rising to a menace of emphasiswith the succeeding,--

  "Ram down--Cartridge!"

  "Return--Rammer!"

  And as hard upon the clatter of the ramrods, slipping back into theirgrooves, came the orders--

  "Shoulder--Firelock!"

  "Advance--Arms!" the Cherokees drew a long breath as of the relief fromthe tension of suspense. They were evidently seeking to discern theutility of these strange military gyrations. This the Indians, althoughalways alert to perceive and adopt any advantage in arms or militarymethod, despite their characteristic tenacity to their ancient customsin other matters, could not descry. They had, even at this early day,almost discarded the bow and arrow for the firelock, wherever or howeverit could be procured, but the elaborate details of the drill baffledthem, and they regarded it as in some sort a mystery. Their owndiscipline had always sufficed, and their military manoeuvres, theirmarch in single file or widely extended lines, their skulking approach,stalking under cover from tree to tree, were better suited, as even someof their enemies thought, for military movements, than tacticalprecision, to the broken character of the country and the dense forestof the trackless wilderness.

  They noticed with kindling eyes a brisk reprimand administered toCorporal O'Flynn, when Lieutenant Gilmore called attention to the factthat one of the men had used three motions instead of the prescribed twomotions in charging with cartridge, and two motions, instead of one, inramming down cartridge. Corporal O'Flynn's mortification was painted ina lively red on his fresh Irish cheek, for this soldier was of a squadwhose tuition in the manual exercise had been superintended by no less atactician than himself.

  "Faith, sir," he said to his superior officer, "I don't know what ailsthat man. He has motion without intelligence. Like thim windmills, ye'llremember, sir, we seen so much on the Continent. He minds me o' thim inthe way he whur-r-ls his ar-rms."

  The lieutenant--they had served together in foreign countries--laughed atrifle, his wrath diverted by the farcical suggestion, and the instantthe command to break ranks had been given, Corporal O'Flynn, with thedelinquent under close guard, convoyed him to the scene of the exploitsof the awkward squad, where he might best learn to discard the freegestures of the windmills of the Continent of Europe.

  "To disgrace me afore the officers," said Corporal O'Flynn, "and Ifairly responsible for ye! I larned ye all ye know--and for ye to showthe leftenant how little 'tis! Ye've got to quit that way of loadingwith ca'tridge with as many motions as an old jontleman feeling for hissnuff-box! I'm fairly responsible for yez. I'm yer sponsor in thisbusiness. I feel like yer godfathers, an' yer godmothers, an' yer maidenaunt. I never seen a man so supple! Ye have as much use of yer hands asif ye was a centipede!"

  The matter and manner of this discourse tried the gravity of the awkwardsquad, but no one dared to laugh, and Corporal O'Flynn himself was asgrave as if it were a question of the weightiest importance involved, ashe stood by and watched for a time t
he drill of the men.

  The Indians turned their attentive eyes to Captain Stuart and CaptainDemere, who were both upon the terre-pleine at the shoulder-point of abastion where one of the twelve cannon, mounted _en barbette_, lookedgrimly forth over the parapet. The gunners were receiving someinstructions which Stuart was giving in reference to serving the piece;now and again it was pointed anew; he handled the heavy sponge-staff asif in illustration; then stepped swiftly back, and lifted the match, asif about to fire the gun. The Indians loitering in the shade watched themartial figure, the sun striking full on the red coat and cocked hat,and long, heavy queue of fair hair hanging on his shoulders, and as hestood erect, with the sponge-staff held horizontally in both hands, theyturned and looked with a common impulse at one another and suddenly spatupon the ground. The sentry in a sort of cabin above the gate--agate-house, so to speak--maintained a guard within as well as without,for an outer sentinel was posted on the crest of the counterscarp beyondthe bridge; he kept his eye on the Cherokees, but he did not note theirlook. He was not skilled in deciphering facial expression, nor did heconceive himself deputed to construe the grimaces of savages. Gazingwithout for a moment, he turned back and cast a glance of kindly concernon Hamish MacLeod, who was disconsolately strolling about, not daringto go back and encounter the reproaches of Odalie, who doubtless thoughthim even now in the wilderness with a searching party, too urgent toadmit of the time to acquaint her with so hasty a departure--and yetstriving against his eagerness to go on this very errand, relying on thesuperior wisdom of the officers even while rebelling against it. Allthat he observed tended to confirm this reliance. How safe it was here!How trebly guarded! Even to his callow experience it was most obviousthat whatever fate held in store for this garrison, whose lives wereintrusted to the wisdom and precaution of the commandant, surprise wasnot among the possibilities. He remembered anew poor Sandy, far fromthese stanch walls, the very citadel of security, within which he feltso recreant; and as he thought again of the perils to which his brotherwas exposed, and a possibly impending hideous fate, he felt aconstriction about his throat like the clutch of a hand. The tears roseto his eyes--and through them as he looked toward the gate he saw Sandycoming into the fort! In the extremity of the revulsion of feelingHamish gave a sudden shrill yell that rang through the woods like awar-whoop. Even the Indians, still loitering in the diminishing shadowof the block-house, started at the sound and gazed at him amazed, as hedashed across the parade and flung his arms around his brother. Sandy,who had had his own terrors to endure concerning the fate of his family,was not altogether appreciative of their terrors for his sake. He feltamply capable of taking care of himself, and if he were not--why, hisscalp was not worth saving! He extricated himself with unflatteredsurprise from Hamish's frantic embrace that was like the frenzied hug ofa young bear and made his ribs crack.

  "That's enough, Hamish; that's enough!" he said. "Of course I'm safe,all right. That's enough."

  He advanced with what grace he could command after such an exhibition toshake hands with the two officers near the sally-port and thank them forthe shelter the fort had afforded his family.

  And here was Odalie,--for a good-natured soldier, one of the boat's crewof the previous evening, had instantly run to her cabin with the news ofthe arrival--restored to her normal poise in an instant, in thetwinkling of an eye, by the shattering of her dismal forebodings in theglad reality of MacLeod's safety. So composed was her manner, so calmlyhappy, that Captain Stuart could not forbear to unmask the sham, and letthe poor man know how he had been bewept yesterday at even.

  "We were very glad to take in the wanderers, although I cannot say itwas a cheerful scene. I never realized until Mrs. MacLeod reached thegate here the meaning of the phrase 'dissolved in tears.'"

  Alexander looked anxiously at his wife--had she found the journey, then,so vexatious?

  "I was tired and dusty," she said demurely, as if in explanation. "Myshoes--one of them was in tatters; and, Sandy, I was _so_ ashamed."

  Captain Stuart stared at her for a moment and broke into a laugh."That's putting the shoe on the other foot, at all events," he said.

  He and Captain Demere, accompanied by the newcomer, turned into theblock-house, in order to question Sandy as to any information he mighthave been able to acquire concerning French emissaries, the dispositionof the Cherokees, the devastation of the Virginia settlements, and anyfurther news of General Forbes and the fall of Fort Duquesne now calledFort Pitt. However, Sandy had naught to report, save the angry threatwith the tomahawk which gave way upon the assurance that the party wasFrench. In the solitary journey with those who had resigned their boatto Willinawaugh, he had experienced no worse treatment than thedestruction of his pocket compass. With this at first they had beenhighly delighted, but some ten miles from the fort they had been joinedby an Indian who declared he had seen such things in Carolina, doubtlessamong land-surveyors, and who stigmatized it as a "land-stealer,"forthwith crushing it with his tomahawk. MacLeod had expected thisrevelation to bring about ill-feeling, but the party shortly met thehunters of the post, who had insisted on conducting him to the fort onsuspicion of being a Frenchman.

  These pioneers never forgot that day, a rich, languid day of thelingering St. Martin's summer-tide. What though in the early morn thefrost had lain in rime as white as snow on the bare branches of thegreat trees where now the yellow sunshine dripped in liquid light! Atender haze like that of spring suffused the depths of the forest, thegleaming, glancing reaches of the river, the level summit-lines of thegreat massive purple mountains of the west, and half concealed, andshifting half revealed, always elusively, the fine azure snow-cappeddomes against the pearl-tinted eastern sky. What though the flowers weredead, the leaves had fled, the woods were bare and rifled,--when thenecromancy of the powers of the air filled all the winter day withsweet, subtle odors that excelled the fragrance of summer, as a memorymight outvie the value of the reality, seeming to exhale now from theforest, and again from the river, and anon from some quality of thebeneficent sunshine, or to exist in ethereal suspension in the charmedatmosphere. Nature was in such blessed harmony, full of gracefulanalogy; a bird would wing his way aloft, his shadow careering throughthe sun-painted woods below; a canoe with its swift duplication in thewater would fly with its paddles like unfeathered wings down thecurrents of the river; those exquisite traceries of the wintry woods,the shadows of the leafless trees, would lie on a sandy stretch likesome keen etching, as if to illustrate the perfection of the lovelydendroidal design and proportion of the growth it imaged; now and againthe voice of herds of buffalo rose thunderously, muffled by distance; adeer splashed into the river a little above the fort, and gallantlybreasting the current, swam to the other side, while a group of soldiersstanding on the bank watched his progress and commented on his prowess.No shot followed him; the larders were filled, and orders had been givento waste no powder and ball.

  The newcomers were made most heartily welcome in the settlement near thefort, as newcomers were apt to be in every pioneer hamlet, whatevertheir quality; for the frontiersmen, in their exposed situation,earnestly appreciated the strength in numbers. But this gratulation wasof course infinitely increased when the arrivals were, like these,people of character, evidently so valuable an addition to thecommunity. Finally several of the settlers persisted in carrying offSandy to look at a fertile nook where the river swung round in a bend,earnestly recommending the rich bottom lands for the growth of corn, andthe crest of the hill with a clear free-stone spring for that home hesought to plant in the far west. Hamish went too,--he could not bearSandy to be out of his sight and was "tagging" after him as resolutelyand as unshake-off-ably as when he was four and Sandy was twelve yearsof age.

  In their absence Odalie and Josephine and the _douce mignonne_ sat onthe doorstep of their latest entertainer, and watched the shadows andsunshine shift in the woods, and listened to the talk of their hostess.And here was where the trail of the serpent began to be manifest; forthis old wom
an was a professed gossip, and Odalie speedily learned thepoints of view from which the settlement about Fort Loudon ceased topresent the aspect of the earlier Paradisaic era.

  Mrs. Halsing had a hard, set visage, and was very shrewd,--none theworse gossip for that,--and went straight to the weak point, andunraveled the tangle of mystery in any subject that presented itself fordiscussion. She was thin and angular and uncultivated, and had evidentlycome of people who had been used to small advantages in education andbreeding. Equally humble of origin was another of Odalie's futureneighbors, with a sort of homespun dress made after the fashion called a"short gown," a red petticoat, and a pair of moccasons in lieu of shoes.Her face was as broad as the moon, and as bland. Much smiling had worndimples around her mouth instead of wrinkles in her forehead. She, too,had a keen gleam of discernment in her eyes, but tempered with aperception of the sweetly ludicrous in life, which converted folly intothe semblance of fun. She seemed to love her comfort, to judge by herleisurely motions and the way her arms fell into easy foldings, but thewife of a pioneer could never have lived at ease in those days. She satopposite Mrs. Halsing, by the cabin door, on a bench which the hostesshad vacated in her favor, adopting instead an inverted tub, and althoughadmitting as true much that was said, Mrs. Beedie advanced palliatingtheories which, paradoxically enough, while they did not contradict themain statement, had all the effect of denial.

  For her part, said Mrs. Halsing, she did not see what anybody who wassafe in Virginia or Carolina, or anywhere else, would come to thiscountry for. She wouldn't, except that her husband was possessed! Thesight of a road put him into a "trembly fit." He was moving west to getrid of civilization, and he was as uncivilized as a "bar himself, or anInjun."

  Odalie learned that a number of the men were wild, roving, roaringfellows, who came here because they hated law and order; then, withoutcontradiction, Mrs. Beedie's exposition tended to show that it was a newcountry with splendid prospects and they desired to take advantage ofits opening opportunities; some of them being already poor, sought herecheaper homes, with more chance for development.

  And, pursuing the interpretation of her side of the shield, Mrs. Halsingdetailed the fact that some people love change and adventure, because nomatter what the Lord gave 'em they wouldn't fold their hands and bethankful. Were the Rush people poor and oppressed in Carolina? Mightywell off, they seemed to her--had cows, if the wolves hadn't got 'em,and had owned property and held their heads mighty high where they camefrom, and claimed kin with well-to-do people in England. People saidCaptain Stuart said he knew who they were--but the Lord only knew whatCaptain Stuart knew! Then Mrs. Halsing further unfolded the fact thatMrs Rush's husband had been the son of a bishop, but had got among thedissenters, and had been cast out like a prodigal, because he took topreaching.

  "Preachin' being in the blood, I reckon," Mrs. Beedie palliated.

  Thereupon he emigrated to America and was seized with a mission to theIndians, that fastened upon him like a plague; and he lost his scalp andhis life--not even a red Indian would tolerate the doctrine he set up asthe Word! And Mrs. Halsing pursed her lips with a truly orthodox fixity.And now we have no religion at the fort and the settlement.

  But here Mrs. Beedie took up her testimony with unction and emphasis. Wehad Captain Stuart!

  Mrs. Halsing gave a sudden cry of derision like the abrupt squawk of ajay-bird. Captain Stuart was not a humble man. That back of his wasnever bent! She wondered if his heart had ever felt the need of aught.

  "Yes," Mrs. Beedie affirmed. "When one of the soldiers died of thepleurisy last winter in the fort and Captain Demere was ill himself,Captain Stuart read the service all solemn and proper, and had men tomarch with arms reversed and fire a volley over the grave."

  Mrs. Halsing rose to the occasion by demanding what good such evidencesof religion might do in such a lot as there was at the fort. Forgettingher scorn of the bishop's son, who had taken to Methodism and Indians,she set forth the fact that the whole settlement was given todances--that the settlers with their wives and daughters, not contentwith dances at home, must needs go to the fort on state and specialoccasions, such as Christmas, and there participate in the ball, as theycalled it, given in the officers mess-hall. They went in daylight, anddid not return till daylight, and the fiddle it sang the whole nightthrough! And cards--the soldiers played cards, and the settlers too; andthe officers, they played "loo," as they called it, as if that made itany better. Even Captain Demere! This latter phrase occurred sofrequently in Mrs. Halsing's prelection that it created a sort ofmitigating effect, and made the enormity it qualified gain a trifle ofrespectability from the fact that Captain Demere countenanced it. Odalieknew already that he was the commandant, and it was plain to be seenthat Captain Demere stood first in Mrs. Halsing's estimation. And theofficers all, she declared, the captains, the frisky lieutenants, andthe ensigns, all drank tafia.

  "When they can git it," interpolated Mrs. Beedie, with twinkling eyes.

  "They are deprived, I will say, by the slowness and seldomness of theexpress from over the mountains. But if they are a sober set, it isagainst their will, and that I do maintain," Mrs. Halsing added, turningan unflinching front toward Mrs. Beedie. Then resuming her dissertationto Odalie:--

  "But there's one thing that rests on my mind. I can't decide which oneit belongs to, Captain Stuart or Captain Demere. Did ye see--I know yedid--a lady's little riding-mask on the shelf of the great hall. Ye musthave seen it,"--lowering her voice,--"a love token?"

  "Oh," said Odalie, in a casual tone and with a slight shrug of theshoulders, not relishing the intrusive turn of the disquisition, "asouvenir, perhaps, from the colonies or over seas."

  "La, now!" cried Mrs. Halsing, baffled and disconcerted, "you're asFrench as a frog!"

  Recovering herself, she resumed quickly. "It's the deceitfulness ofCaptain Stuart that sets me agin him. Ye must be obleeged to know hecan't abide the Injuns. He keeps watch day and night agin 'em. Yet theythink everything o' Captain Stuart! They _all_ prize him. Now don't yeknow such wiles as he hev got for them must be deceit?"

  Odalie made an effort to say something about magnetism, but it seemedinadequate to express the officer's bonhomie, when Mrs. Halsingcontinued:

  "Ye never know _how_ to take Captain Stuart," she objected. "Beforefolks he'll behave to Captain Demere as ceremonious and polite as ifthey had just met yesterday; but if you hear them talking off together,in another minute he'll be rollicking around as wild as a buck, andcalling him 'Quawl--I say Quawl!'"

  She evidently resented this familiarity to the dignified officer, andOdalie pondered fruitlessly on the possible ridicule involved in beingcalled "Quawl."

  In this remote frontier fort a strong personal friendship had sprung upbetween the two senior officers which not only promoted harmony in theirown relations, but a unanimity of sentiment in the exertion of authoritythat redoubled its force, for the garrison was thus debarred from thesupport on a vexed question of the suspicion of a dissentient mind inhigh quarters. Stuart had chanced to address his friend as "Paul," in afraternal aside on an unofficial occasion, and one or two of the Indiansoverhearing it, and unaccustomed to the ceremony of a surname, had thusaccosted him,--to Stuart's delight in the incongruity that thisfamiliarity should be offered to the unapproachable Demere, rather thanto himself, whose jovial methods might better warrant the slack use of aChristian name. Moreover, "Paul" was transmogrified as "Quawl," theCherokees never definitely pronouncing the letter P; and thereafter inmoments of expansive jollity Stuart permitted himself the liberty ofimitation in saying "Quawl," and sometimes "Captain Quawl."

  As Odalie puzzled over this enigma, Mrs. Halsing became more personalstill, having noticed during the pause the crystal clearness of hervisitor's eyes, the fairness of her complexion, the delicacy of herbeauty, her refinement, and the subtle suggestion of elegance thatappertained to her manner, and--

  "How old be you?" asked Mrs. Halsing, bluntly.

  "Twenty-one," replied Odal
ie, feeling very responsible and matronly.

  "Child," said Mrs. Halsing, solemnly, "why did you ever come to thefrontier?"

  "We were lacking somewhat in this world's goods. And we wish to make aprovision for our little girl. We are young and don't care forprivation."

  "You ain't fitten for the frontier."

  "I walked all the way here from New River," cried Odalie, "and not bythe direct route, either--not by the old 'Warrior's Path.' We came byway of the setting sun, as Willinawaugh has it."

  "You can't work," Mrs. Halsing's eyes narrowed as she measured thefigure, slight and delicate despite its erect alertness.

  "I can spin two hanks of yarn a day, six cuts to the hank," boastedOdalie. "I can weave seven yards of woolen cloth a day--my linen is allten hundred. And I can hoe corn like a squaw."

  "That's what you'll be in this country--a squaw! All women are. You'llhave to hoe all the corn you can plant." Mrs. Halsing shook her headmournfully from side to side. "I'd like to see the coast towns agin. IfI was as young as you I'd not tarry, I'd not tarry in the wilderness."

  Odalie was all unaffected by her arguments, but this talk, so deadly tothe progressive spirit of the pioneer settlements, and so rife then andlater, was, she knew, inimical to content. The disaffection of those whoremained to complain wrought more evil against the permanence of thesettlements than the desertion of the few who quitted the frontier toreturn to the towns of the provinces. She welcomed, therefore, withardor the reappearance of Sandy and Hamish from their tour ofinvestigation of the site of their new home, and her eyes sparkledresponsively as she noted their enthusiasm. She was glad to be againhanging on Sandy's right arm, while Hamish hung on his left, and Fifine,with her _fillette toute cherie_, toddled on in front.

  Very cheerful the fort looked to Odalie as they approached. Theafternoon dress-parade was on. The men were once more in full uniform,instead of the pioneer garb of buckskin shirt and leggings and moccasonswhich had won such universal approval, and was so appropriate to generaluse that it was almost recognized as a fatigue uniform. The sun wasreddening upon the still redder ranks of scarlet coats that took even ahigher grade of color from the effect of the white belts and theburnished metallic glitter of the gun-barrels. A different effect wasafforded by the dress of a small body of militia from the provinces thathad recently reinforced the garrison, whose dark blue had a rich butsubsidiary tone and abated the glare of the ranks of scarlet, even whileheightening the contrast. The Indians, always gathering from their townsup the river to revel in this feast of color and spectacle of militarypomp, so calculated to impress them with the superior capacity andknowledge of the arts of warfare possessed by the white race, hadmustered in stronger numbers than usual and stood in rows about thewalls of the block-houses or along the interior slopes of the rampart.

  In groups near the gate were some of the Cherokee women, huddled inblankets, although one wore a civilized "short gown" that had acuriously unrelated look to her physiognomy and form. Their countenanceswere dull and lack-luster, and the elder hag-like and hideous, but asthe new settlers passed the group of squaws a broadside of bright blackeyes, a fresh, richly tinted, expressionless, young face, and a stringof red beads above a buckskin garb that was a sort of tunic, half shirt,half skirt, only partly revealed by the strait folds of a red blanketgirt about a slender, erect figure, reminded the observant Odalie of theclaim to a certain sort of beauty arrogated for the youthful amongthese denizens of the woods--a short-lived beauty, certainly.

  Fifine had caught sight of other children, the families of the settlershaving gathered here to witness the parade. Here, too, were many of themen; now a hunter, leaning on his rifle, with a string of quail, whichhe called "pat-ridges," tied to one another with thongs detached fromthe fringes of his buckskin shirt and looking themselves like some sortof feathered ornament, as they hung over his shoulder and almost to hisknee, and a brace of wild turkeys, young and tender, at his belt;another, attracted from the field by the military music and the prospectof the rendezvous of the whole settlement, still carried a long sharpknife over his shoulder, with which he had been cutting cane, clearingnew ground. A powerful fellow leaning on an ax was exhibiting to anotherand an older settler a fragment of wood he had brought, and bothexamined with interest the fiber; this was evidently a discovery, thetree being unknown in the eastern section, for these people were as iftransplanted to a new world.

  Odalie's attention was suddenly arrested by a man of gigantic build,wearing the usual buckskin garb, and with a hard, stern, fierce face,that seemed somehow peculiarly bare; he wore no queue, it is true, forat this period many of the hunters cut their hair for convenience, andonly the conservative retained that expression of civilization. Underhis coonskin cap his head was tied up in a red cotton handkerchief, andas he stood leaning against the red-clay wall of the rampart, talkinggravely to another settler, the children swarmed up the steep interiorslope of the fortifications behind him and from this coign of vantagebusied themselves, without let or hindrance, in pulling off his cap,untying the handkerchief, and with shrill cries of excitement andinterest exposing to view the bare poll. For the man had been scalpedand yet had escaped with his life.

  "_Quelle barbarie! Oh, quelle barbarie!_" murmured Odalie, wincing atthe sight.

  Years ago it must have chanced, for the wounds had healed; but it hadleft terrible scars which the juvenile element of the settlement prizedand loved to trace as one might the map of the promised land, were suchcharts known to mere earthly map-makers. A frequent ceremony, this,evidently, for the shrill cries were of recognition rather thandiscovery, and when the unknown became a feature it was as a matter ofspeculation.

  "Here! here!" exclaimed one wiry being of ten,--his limited corporealstructure, too, was incased in buckskin, the pioneer mother, like othermothers, feeling no vocation toward works of supererogation in the wayof patching, and having discovered that skins of beasts resist theclutch of briers and the destructive propensities characteristic ofcallow humanity better than cloth, even of the stoutest homespunweave,--"here's where the tomahawk knocked him senseless!"

  "Here's where the scalping-knife began!" cried a snaggle-toothed worthy,from the half-bent posture in which he had been surveying the forlorncicatrices of the bare poll, and digging his heels into the red-clayslope to sustain his weight.

  "No, no--here!" advanced another theorist.

  Odalie turned her head away; it was too horrible!--or she would haveseen the tugging climb of Josephine and her triumphant emergence on theslope amongst the boys. They looked at her in surprise for a moment, butwithout resentment, for it was too good an opportunity to rehearse thehistory that so enchanted them.

  "Here, here," the shrill voices began anew. "Here's where the tomahawkhit him a clip!" "An' here," shrieked out another, seizing upon Fifine'schubby little hand that her own soft finger might have the privilege ofexploring the wound, "here's where the scalping-knife circled himround!"

  "The Injun begun here first, but his knife was dull, an' he had to mendhis holt!" screeched a third.

  "An',--an', 'n," vociferated another, almost speechless in thecontemplation of so bloody a deed, "ter git a full purchase onto it theInjun held him down by putting a foot on his breast!" He lifted his ownbare foot, itself a cruel and savage sight, scarred with the scratchingof briers and stone-bruises and the results of what is known asdew-poison--he called it "jew-pizen," and so do those of his ilk to thisgood day,--and aped the gesture so present to his imagination.

  Fifine knew only too well what it all meant, as her soft infantile face,incongruously maternal with compassion, bent above the hideous record ofa hideous deed.

  "All this here," cried the first expositor, sparing a sustaining hand tohold her by the elbow,--for her weight not being sufficient to drive herheels into the clay slope, she had given imminent signs of slipping downthe incline,--"all this here top of his 'ead ain't the sure enough top;the Injuns scalped that off. This is just sich top as growed since; heain't got no rea
l top to his 'ead."

  Fifine's baby hands traveled around this substitute top; her mouthquivered pitifully; then she bent down and kissed the grim wounds inseveral places with a sputter of babbling commiseration. At this momentHamish caught sight of her and advanced in great contrition. He flushedto the roots of his hair as he spoke to the man, for as a rule those fewfortunate yet unfortunate persons who had chanced to survive the crueldisaster of being scalped were exceedingly sensitive on the subject oftheir disfigurement--it was usually a subject not to be mentioned. Butthis settler looked at Hamish in surprise as the boy said, "Pray excusethe little girl, sir. I had lost sight of her and didn't know she was sovexatious with her curiosity."

  "No, no," returned the stalwart giant, in a singularly languid voice,mild and deep and pacific to the last degree. "It pleases the chil'n,an' don't hurt me."

  He was busying himself in tying up the horrible exhibition in his redhandkerchief preparatory to putting on his coonskin cap, for the briskinterest the children took in disrobing, so to speak, his scalplesshead, did not extend to the task of properly accoutering it again, andrepairing the disarray they themselves had made, for they had scamperedoff through the great gate of the fort. His voice gave Hamish a sort ofintimation how they had had the hardihood to venture on thesefamiliarities with one so formidable of aspect. Hamish learned afterwardthat he had lost his scalp rather through this quality of quietindulgence, so open to treachery, than to inability to keep it. Aterrible fighter he was when he was roused, though even then his utmostprowess was exerted without anger. In the Indian fights his friends hadoften exhorted him to scalp the wretches he slew, as he had beenscalped, and thus complete his revenge, for the Indians believed that ascalpless person would be excluded from the happy hunting-grounds ofheaven, their fury thus following their foes from this world into thenext.

  "Let 'em have all the heaven they can git," he would remark, wiping hisbloody knife upon the mane of his horse. "I expec' to smoke the pipe o'peace with all I meet on Canaan's shore,--Cherokees, Creeks, orChickasaws,--Reg'lars, Millish, or Settlers."

  For he was intensely religious and had a queer conglomeration ofdoctrines that he had picked up here and there in his rambles throughthis western world. He embraced alike the theory of purgatory and thePresbyterian tenets of predestination and justification. He had acquiredthe words of "Hail Mary!" from a French Catholic with whom he had huntedon the banks of the Sewanee, as the Indians called it, and Chauvanon, asthe Gallic tongue metamorphosed the name,--perhaps these two were thefirst white men that ever trod those bosky ways,--and he believedfaithfully in total immersion as promulgated by the Baptists. He was allfor peace, like the Quakers,--peace at any price; and yet when for theentertainment of the boys at a friendly fireside he was urged to recounthow many men he had fought and killed, the long list failed only fromfailure of memory.

  Hamish expected to hear no more of him after they parted, and heexperienced a sort of repulsion which found an echo in Odalie'sexclamation, when Captain Demere proposed that Gilfillan should livewith them. "I should recommend a strong stockade if you go as far fromthe fort as the bend of the river," the officer commented, when the spotthey had selected was made known to him. "And with only two gun men," hecogitated, as he paused. "It would not be safe." Then brightening,--forthe officers of the post sought to facilitate in every way the prospectsof the settlers and the extension of the settlement,--"Take Gilfillanwith you; he's an odd fish, but he is equal to any four men, and he hasnever quite settled down since the massacre on the Yadkin where he losthis wife and children. Take Gilfillan."

  A group from the fort strolled along the river-bank, and the rippleswere red under the red sunset sky, and the eastern mountains were blueand misty, and the western were purple and massive and distinct, andthough sedges were sere and the birds gone, summer was in the air, andthey talked of hope and home.

  Captain Demere's suggestion broke discordantly on the serenity of thehour and the theme.

  "Oh! oh!" cried Odalie, "and have Fifine forever tracing the map ofanguish all around that terrible head, never tiring of 'Here's where thetomahawk hit him a clip!' and 'Here's where the scalping-knife began!'"

  "What a consideration!" exclaimed the officer, with some asperity. "Andif you will excuse me, how very French! The man's rifle--the finestmarksman I ever saw--is the point for your consideration. And you findhis looks not convenable."

  "Fifine, herself, will be less likely to have a head like his, perhaps,if he will come and strengthen our station," suggested AlexanderMacLeod, astutely.

  "Oh,--yes, yes!" assented Odalie, with a sudden expression of fright.

  "Besides," said Captain Stuart, with his bluff nonchalance, "theriver-bend will be so easily famous for the good looks of the stationersthat a trifle of discount upon Gilfillan will not mar the sum total."

  "And then," said Captain Demere, "he is a very exceptional kind ofman--you are fortunate to find such a man--for a single man, in thesettlements. You would not like it if he were one of the rattling,roaring blades that such irresponsible single fellows are here,usually."

  "Mighty sprightly company, some of these rufflers," remarked CaptainStuart, with a twinkling eye. "Rarely good company," he averred.

  "And besides," added Captain Demere, whose extreme sensitiveness enabledhim better to appreciate her sentiment than the others, despite hisrebuke, "you need not have him in the same house with you; you can havetwo cabins within the stockade and connected by the palisades from onehouse to the other. Otherwise, in the present state of feeling among theCherokees it would hardly be safe so far from the fort."

  It had been explained that Alexander was especially solicitousconcerning the choice of his location, since the quality of the land hadnot been well selected in his former home on New River. Here he hadfound in a comparatively small compass the ideal conjuncture for thosegrowths so essential to the pioneer who must needs subsist on theproduce of his own land. In that day and with the extremely limited anddifficult means of transportation, no deficit could be filled from thebase of a larger supply. The projected station, he thought, would be assafe as any other place outside the range of the guns of the fort, buthe welcomed the idea of numbering among its denizens the hardy hunter,Gilfillan, and cared no more for his bald head than he did for thebroad, smooth, handsome plait of Captain Stuart's fair hair. MacLeod hadall the desperate energy of one who seeks to retrieve good fortune,although no great deal of money was involved in his earlier disasters.His father had had shipping interests, and the loss of a barque and hercargo at sea had sufficed to swamp the young man's financial craft onshore. As to the possessions of his wife's family--they were a fewinconsiderable heirlooms, some fine traditions, growing now a triflestale and moldy with age, and a brave, proud spirit in facing the world,the result of the consciousness of having a fine old record to sustain;her forefathers had been of that class of refugees from religiouspersecution whose property was of such a character and whose emergencywas so imminent that they had fled from France with little else than thegarments in which they stood. They had not prospered since, normultiplied, and Odalie was nearly the last of the family. A certaininnate refinement in both, MacLeod's gravity and dignity of carriage andthe distinction of Odalie's manner, notwithstanding its simplicity,marked their exceptional quality to a discerning judgment, despite theirprecarious plight. The two officers had grave doubts as to the wisdom oftheir adventuring so boldly in the quest of fortune in these savagewildernesses, but both felt that it was well for the community thatharbored them, and each knew of isolated instances elsewhere when suchfolly had been transmuted into a potent sapience by the bounty ofuncovenanted good luck. They had experienced a sort of pleasure in theadvent of the newcomers, for Sandy's intelligence and information werefar above the average, and they were more or less isolated in thisremote frontier post from those dainty charms of toilette and mannerwhich Odalie would have found means to practice were she cast away on adesert island, all the more marked, perhaps, from their demur
esimplicity and a sort of unstudied elegance.

  It was only a serge gown she wore, of the darkest redhue,--murrey-colored, she called it,--but all faint vestige of thejourney had vanished, and over the long, straight bodice of those dayswas a cape or fichu of fine white cambric, embellished with a delicatetambour, one of those graceful accomplishments which her "grand'maman"had brought from France, and transmitted to a docile pupil as among thearts which should adorn a woman. The deep red and the vivid white ofthis costume comported well with her fine dark-brown hair, risingstraight from her forehead in a heavy lustrous undulation, and drawnback to be gathered into a dense knot, her fair smooth complexion, thecontemplative yet suave expression of her large dark eyes, and theirheavy, almost diplomatic eyelashes,--for they implied so much that theydid not say, and were altogether the most effective feature of that mosteffective face. Often Sandy, who had taken more notice of those eyes andeyelashes than any one else in the world,--although they had not beenunremarked in general,--could not decipher what she meant by them, andat other times he marveled why she should say so much with them insteadof with the means which Nature had bestowed for the expression of herviews,--of which, too, she made ample use. Those eyelashes, forinstance, indicated disdain, reproof, reproach, and yet a repudiation ofcomprehension when Captain Stuart said significantly that he hoped shefound her footing quite satisfactory to-day--she was wearing a sprucepair of prunella brodequins which had come in the pack. With his bluffraillery he inquired of her how she had the conscience to grudge herhusband the triumph of knowing that she had shed a tun of tears for hisabsence yesterday and had demanded of the commandant of the post thatthe whole strength of the garrison should instantly take the field tosearch for him.

  "For discipline," she answered, with placid solemnity. "If he knew thatI care enough to weep for him instead of for my shabby shoes, myauthority would be shattered. And a mutiny, under any circumstances, isnot pretty."

  The river carried the officer's jovial laughter far along the lapsingcurrent that was growing steely now, reflecting a pale gray sky of veryluminous tone, beneath which the primeval woods were dark and gloomy,and the mountains on the east loomed but dimly through the gray mists,while on the west the summit-line was hard and darkly distinct. It waswinter, for all the still air; no sound of bird, no chirring of cicada,no rustle of leaf. The voice of the river rose quite alone in thesilence, and a single star seemed to palpitate in a white agitation asit listened.

  And when the party sat down on the rocky ledges of the river-bank,Captain Demere was beside Odalie, and they talked not of this newcountry lying before them, with the unread, unrecorded mystery of itspast, and the unsolved, impenetrable question of its future, but of hisown people. With her delicate tact she had evaded the continualoccupation of the general attention with her experiences andexpectations, and the details of her new home, and led him to speak ofhimself and his own interests, which he was insensibly brought to dowith little disguise, so potent were the reminiscent effects of themurrey-colored gown, and the dainty freshness of the cambric fichu, andthe delicate feminine attraction that hung about her like an exquisitefragrance, and seemed, because of her lack of arrogation, less peculiarto herself than some sweet quality appertaining to the whole species ofwomankind.

  She noted how the future of men like these is not with the future of thecountry. They were not to participate in the prosperity which theirpresence here might foster. While all the others looked forward theylooked backward, or perhaps aside, as at a separate life. Such is thepart a garrison must always play. She doubted if many felt it. With Mrs.Halsing, she, too, marveled if Captain Stuart felt the need of aught.

  But Demere, looking into the past as the tide of reminiscence rose, saidto a sympathetic heart a thousand things of home. Trifles came back,hitherto forgotten; sorrows seared over by time; old jests that hadoutworn the too frequent laugh at last; resolutions failing midway,half-hearted; friends heretofore dead even to memory; old adventuresconjured up anew; affections lingering about an old home, like the scentof roses when the fallen petals have left but the bare stalk; vanishedjoys, reviviscent with a new throb that was more like pain thanpleasure. And if he did not look to the future that sweet December nightof Saint Martin's summer by the placid Tennessee River, perhaps it wasas well,--oh, poor Captain Demere!