Chapter XXIX: The Barring of the Doom Trail

"Qua, O-te-ti-an-i!"

Do-ne-ho-ga-weh's right arm was lifted in the salute. The little group of Indians standing at his side on the fringe of the woods overlooking the smoking ruins of La Vierge du Bois repeated the greeting. Corlaer, his broad face with its insignificant, haphazard features shining with emotion, grasped my hand and wrung it heartily.

"You hafe der lifes of a cat, my friendt!" he exclaimed. "We hafe foundt der torture stakes with der bodies of some of your party andt----"

He paused and glanced at Do-ne-ho-ga-weh. The Guardian of the Western Door drew himself up proudly.

"Ga-ha-no did wrong," he said, "but she died as became the daughter of a _roy-an-eh_ of the Long House."

"She died like a warrior," I replied.

"O-te-ti-an-i makes the heart of Do-ne-ho-ga-weh very glad," acknowledged the _roy-an-eh_. "Can he still my fears for my nephew?"

"Ta-wan-ne-ars fought like a chief," I answered. "But his heart was made very sad by the death of Ga-ha-no and his mind has wandered from him for a space."

"It will return," affirmed Do-ne-ho-ga-weh. "Now tell us, O my white son, do you come hither as a captive or a conqueror?"

"I come to offer the terms of Murray; but first tell me how successful you have been, so that I may know whether I should advise acceptance of what he offers."

Do-ne-ho-ga-weh swept his arm around the horizon.

"Everywhere you see ashes and destruction," he replied. "The Keepers of the Trail are dead or imprisoned in Murray's stockade. Their women and children are our prisoners. Our belts can scarcely support the loads of scalps we have taken. We have swept the Doom Trail."

A new figure stepped forward--modestly, as became a young warrior in the company of _roy-an-ehs_ and chiefs. 'Twas the Otter. He too saluted me.

"We thought that you escaped the ambush," I said. "You did well. Great will be the fame of the Otter."

He selected two from a bundle of scalps at his belt and held them aloft.

"Two pursued the Otter when he ran from the Evil Wood," he boasted. "But none returned to tell the way he took. The Otter hastened day and night, O my white brother, O-te-ti-an-i, hoping he might bring warriors to rescue you from the Keepers."

"The Otter did well," I repeated. "Had it not been for him, Murray might have been able to flee to Canada. As it is, the warriors of the Long House have surrounded him. He wishes only to save his life. Harken to the terms he offers."

They listened without comment to Murray's proposition.

"But we have a hostage, also," objected Do-ne-ho-ga-weh when I had finished. "We have been holding him for the torture-stake. Perhaps Murray will be willing to accept less when he learns that we have taken Black Robe."

"No, Black Robe means nothing to Murray," I said.

And I described the clash between the two rulers of La Vierge du Bois over the wedding of Marjory.

"It does not matter," commented Do-ne-ho-ga-weh. "Black Robe is our enemy, and we will torture him to avenge our warriors who have perished here at the stake."

"No, no," I objected. "You must let him go. The Great Spirit has set his seal upon him. Twice before this he has been tortured, yet he still lives."

"The third time may be the last," insisted Do-ne-ho-ga-weh, and the other chiefs murmured agreement with him.

"Will my father yield the life of Black Robe to me as a special gift?" I tried again. "He befriended the maiden I hope to marry. I should like to set him free."

They consulted together, and Corlaer urged my cause. In the end Do-ne-ho-ga-weh assented because, he said, I had brought good luck to the Long House and this was the first favor I had requested.

"And now," he concluded, "take back this message to Murray, my white son. Tell him that he is to surrender his house as it stands, with all it contains. Tell him that he is to give up to us the maiden he calls his daughter, whom you desire to wed. Tell him that he is to send forth the prisoners he has taken. Tell him that he is to render up all the arms he has in his possession.

"And then he and those of the Keepers of the Trail who are left to him shall march out, and the People of the Long House will escort them to Jaraga, where they shall be handed over to Joncaire to dispose of as pleases Onontio and the French.

"_Na-ho!_"

I said good-bye to them, and tramped back across the clearing to the stockade above which waved a white napkin fastened to a ramrod. Murray awaited me just within the gate. The Keepers, in their fantastic feather headdresses, crouched on the firing-platform and peered down at us fearfully. Splotches of blood in the dirty snow showed where several of them had been killed by the plunging fire of the Iroquois from the trees which rimmed the clearing.

Murray heard my report in silence, and cast his eye over the surrounding scene before replying.

"It shall be done," he said at last. "Was ever a man so sorely tried by fate? Zooks! 'twill cost me a pretty penny and no slight effort to recoup my fortunes."

I regarded him with amazement.

"Do you think to be tolerated hereabouts in the future?" I asked.

"Hereabouts! It may be so; it may not be," he answered musingly. "But my star is no ordinary star, Master Ormerod. And despite my demerits, which seem to have impressed you unduly, if you will allow me to say so, I am not entirely without certain capacities which are valuable in adversity."

"The devil looks out for his own!" I ejaculated rudely.

"Needs must, if the devil drives," he countered. "Ah, well, we are simply headed toward another fruitless bicker. You are strangely burdened by that animus which the clergy dub conscience. Your judgment is biased."

"Where you are concerned."

"I fear so," he deplored. "Let us set a term to this debate. Does our treaty go into effect at once?"

"Yes."

"So be it. I will give orders to have your friends conducted here."

The battered remnants of our war-party appeared with Ta-wan-ne-ars walking in the lead, his face once more a study in impassive rigor.

"Murray says we are free, brother," he said, stepping to my side.

"It is true."

The sadness shone momentarily in his eyes.

"I have had a bad dream, brother," he went on.

"'Twas no dream," I cried. "Do not doubt your sorrow, Ta-wan-ne-ars. It was----"

"It was a dream," he answered steadily. "My Lost Soul is redeemed by Ha-wen-ne-yu and is gone on before me for a visit to Ata-ent-sic. But in a little time, when I am rested, I shall go after her and fetch her back to dwell happily with me in my lodge."

"But how can you, a mortal, journey into the hereafter?" I protested.

"Did I not tell you an old tale of my people of a warrior who ventured to the Land of Lost Souls? O my brother, the Great Spirit is generous. He recognizes courage and true love. If I am daring of everything, surely he will stand my aid and help me into Ata-ent-sic's country."

"It can not be!"

"How shall we know it can not be until we have tried? Ta-wan-ne-ars will try."

I could say no more. Such simple faith was unanswerable. And I watched him, quietly directing the piling of the weapons of the Keepers and the unbarring of the gate in the stockade. I wondered how much of it was the unconscious working on a sensitive mind of the very Christianity he had rejected.

Marjory's voice recalled me to the present.

"Master Murray tells me he hath surrendered," she said.

I turned eagerly to find her at my side. My hands leaped out for hers, and she yielded them without hesitation, her brave eyes beaming love and comradeship unashamed.

"Yes, we are free, Marjory. Will you come with me----"

She caught my meaning, and made to pull away from me.

"But we will have had no wooing," she exclaimed, half between laughter and tears. "Sure, sir, you will not be expecting a maid to yield without suit?"

I would not let her go.

"Every minute that hath passed since I stepped into the main cabin of the New Venture to see the face of the mysterious songbird hath been a persistent suit," I declared.

"And you would really wed an unrelenting Jacobite?" she murmured.

"Whatever you are I love you, and as a reformed Jacobite I can see reasons for forgiving your contumacy."

Her face grew serious.

"As I told you once before--" she shuddered with the memory of the incident--"I have learned much since leaving Scotland. I know that you are no traitor and your beliefs are honorable and patriotic, and that Country means more than King. But, Harry, you will be overlooking the narrowness of a poor maid brought up in a Scots Jacobite household to consider the Stuart cause sacred--will you not?"

"So sweet a recantation!" sneered Murray at my elbow. "He will never be able resist you, my dear."

She withdrew so that I stood between her and her uncle.

"I have supported much from you, sir," she answered coldly; "in part through mistaken loyalty to the object you said you served; in part because, evil though you were, you were my flesh and blood. But from this day I disown you. I will be having naught to do with you. You mean nothing to me. You are a horrid specter I expel from my mind."

He shrugged his shoulders.

"'Tis a fitting reward for the loving care I gave you, Mistress Marjory. You are with me until my fortunes wane. Well, I am content. Henceforth Andrew Murray plays his own hand alone. Yet it suits me, my children, to annoy you to the extent of assuring you my blessing and good wishes.

"You are a fine, healthy maid, Marjory. As for Master Ormerod, he hath been a resourceful enemy, and as the first man to cry 'Checkmate!' against me I congratulate him."

Ta-wan-ne-ars tapped him on the shoulder and he swung around to meet the frowning gaze of the Seneca.

"You are a prisoner, Murray. Come with Ta-wan-ne-ars."

"'Sdeath, I was to have safe-conduct!"

"You are to go safely to Jagara--yes," I interposed; "but think not we will trust you at liberty."

He took snuff and dusted his lapels carefully.

"Have your way, noble Iroquois," he sighed. "A little while, and I shall be quit of you."

The warriors of the Long House came pouring through the gates of the stockade, and their war-whoops echoed over the forest as they commenced the work of looting Murray's establishment and securing their prisoners. As Marjory and I passed out of that sinister enclosure, which had seen so much of wickedness and human suffering, we had our last joint glimpse of Andrew Murray. The Otter was lashing his arms at his back, and on his face was a look of whimsical distaste.

"Farewell, my children," he called. "Bear in mind 'twas Andrew Murray brought you together. So good cometh out of evil."

Marjory shrank closer against my side.

"Yes," she said; "take me away from here. Let us go away, Harry--and forget."

But 'twas Corlaer, and not I, who escorted my lady to Albany and the tender care of Mistress Schuyler, into whose charge Governor Burnet most kindly commended her. For duty commanded me to discharge my obligation of removing Murray and his Cahnuagas--not many survived the castigation of the Iroquois--in safety to Jagara; and I must accompany Do-ne-ho-ga-weh and Ta-wan-ne-ars and the warriors of the Eight Clans in the triumphal procession which traversed the Long House from the Upper Mohawk Castle to the shores of the Thunder Waters as an illustration of the wrath of the Great League.

And I was not sorry that I did so, for it enabled me to sit beside Do-ne-ho-ga-weh and his brother chiefs in the half-finished stone fort at Jagara and hear him lay down the law of the Long House to Joncaire, as representative of the French.

"_Qua_, O Joncaire, mouthpiece of Onontio who rules at Quebec," he said. "We people of the Long House come to you in peace. And we give into your hands the white man Murray and those who are still alive of the Keepers of the Doom Trail. We promised that they should come here, and we have fulfilled our promise. But we have set a bar across the Doom Trail, O mouthpiece of Onontio, and we desire you to tell the French of that.

"If Onontio chooses, we will live in peace with him, and--" this was a crafty use of an advantage I had forced upon him--"in earnest of our friendship we have saved the life of the Frenchman called Black Robe, although he has been no friend of our people. But the Doom Trail is closed to red men and white men alike. We have obliterated it. We have set a bar across it.

"It is our wish that you should acquaint Onontio with our decision. We ask him to assist us in wiping out this source of trouble between us.

"_Na-ho!_"

"I have heard your message, O _roy-an-ehs_ and chiefs of the Long House," replied Joncaire. "I will repeat it to Onontio, but I do not think it will be welcome in his ears. As to the white man Murray, why do you bring him to me? He is English. You should carry him to the English at Albany."

"He asked to be brought to you," returned Do-ne-ho-ga-weh, and thus spiked an adroit attempt to shift the implied responsibility for Murray's enterprises in the past.

"Very well," said Joncaire. "You may leave him here. Do you enter any charge against him?"

"We might enter many charges against him," answered Do-ne-ho-ga-weh grimly. "But we pledged our word to bring him here in safety--and we have washed away the stains of his offenses in the blood of the Keepers of the Trail."

"He shall tell his story to Onontio," replied Joncaire, politely threatening. "I am pleased with your assurances of peacefulness. I have no more to say."

But as the Iroquois were leaving he buttonholed me in the sallyport.

"I know you, my lad from Arles," he said jocosely. "I knew you the minute I laid my eyes on you. You have played ducks and drakes with high policies in your few months on the frontier. I hope your people appreciate you."

I laughed and returned his compliment. He waxed serious.

"For myself I am not so sorry this has happened," he declared. "I'll fight the English any day--and beat them, too. But I like not this stealthy intriguing by crime, by perverting the poor savages, by downright cruelty and superstition. This fellow de Veulle, now----"

"He's dead," I interrupted.

"_Ma foi_, you seem to have made a clean sweep of it, Jean! You are a lad after my own heart. De Veulle, he was a bad one. He cast discredit on France. I am glad you disposed of him. Let us fight clean and win clean, I say. Do you tell that to your governor."

"I will," I promised, laughing.

"You haven't a chance, you know," continued Joncaire gravely. "Not a chance."

"It seems to me you once told me at some length of the importance of the fur-trade," I suggested.

"_Peste_! Did I? Well, it has its place, lad. But if you have rooted out that excrescence at La Vierge du Bois we have a tight little fortalice here at Jagara. 'Twill serve, 'twill serve. And you English have no imagination. Once in a while you get a good man--Burnet for example. But you do not trust him, and you invariably have your Murrays who want another king than his Majesty who sits in London and will pay any price we ask for promises of help we never keep.

"Must you be going? Adieu, then! And do not be setting any of your neat snares for me, Monsieur l'Arlesien."