Chapter 10 THE CAUSE OF THE FIRING

The landing was but a part of the labyrinthine trickery in which our leader delighted to play; for while Jean delayed the natives we ran overland through the woods, launched our canoe far ahead of the Indian flotilla, and went racing forward to the throbs of the leaping river.

"If a man would win, he must run fast as the hour-glass," observed M. Radisson, poising his steering-pole. "And now, my brave lads," he began, counting in quick, sharp words that rang with command, "keep time-one-two-three! One-two-three!" And to each word the paddles dipped with the speed of a fly-wheel's spokes.

"One-two-three! In and up and on! An you keep yourselves in hand, men, you can win against the devil's own artillery! Speed to your strokes, Godefroy," he urged.

And the canoe answered as a fine-strung racer to the spur. Shore-lines blurred to a green streak. The frosty air met our faces in wind. Gurgling waters curled from the prow in corrugated runnels. And we were running a swift race with a tumult of waves, mounting the swell, dipping, rising buoyant, forward in bounds, with a roar of the nearing rapids, and spray dashing athwart in drifts. M. Radisson braced back. The prow lifted, shot into mid-air, touched water again, and went whirling through the mill-race that boiled below a waterfall. Once the canoe aimed straight as an arrow for rocks in mid-current. M. Radisson's steel-shod pole flashed in the sun. There was a quick thrust, answered by Godefroy's counter-stroke at the stern; and the canoe grazed past the rocks not a hair's-breadth off.

"Sainte Anne ha' mercy!" mumbled Godefroy, baling water from the canoe as we breasted a turn in the river to calmer currents, "Sainte Anne ha' mercy! But the master'd run us over Niagara, if he had a mind."

"Or the River Styx, if 'twould gain his end," sharply added Radisson.

But he ordered our paddles athwart for snatched rest, while he himself kept alert at the bow. With the rash presumption of youth, I offered to take the bow that he might rest; but he threw his head back with a loud laugh, more of scorn than mirth, and bade me nurse a wounded hand. On the evening of the third day we came to the Habitation. Without disembarking, M. de Radisson sent the soldiers on sentinel duty at the river front up to the fort with warning to prepare for instant siege.

"'Twill put speed in the lazy rascals to finish the fort," he remarked; and the canoe glided out to mid-current again for the far expanse of the bay.

By this we were all so used to M. Radisson's doings, 'twould not have surprised us when the craft shot out from river-mouth to open sea if he had ordered us to circumnavigate the ocean on a chip.

He did what was nigh as venturesome.

A quick, unwarned swerve of his pole, which bare gave Godefroy time to take the cue, and our prow went scouring across the scud of whipping currents where two rivers and an ocean-tide met. The seething waves lashed to foam with the long, low moan of the world-devouring serpent which, legend says, is ever an-hungering to devour voyageurs on life's sea. And for all the world that reef of combing breakers was not unlike a serpent type of malignant elements bent on man's destruction!

Then, to the amaze of us all, we had left the lower river. The canoe was cutting up-stream against a new current; and the moan of the pounding surf receded to the rear. Clouds blew inland, muffling the moon; and M. Radisson ordered us ashore for the night. Feet at a smouldering fire too dull for an enemy to see and heads pillowed on logs, we bivouacked with the frosty ground for bed.

"Bad beds make good risers," was all M. Radisson's comfort, when Godefroy grumbled out some complaint.

A hard master, you say? A wise one, say I, for the forces he fought in that desolate land were as adamant. Only the man dauntless as adamant could conquer. And you must remember, while the diamond and the charcoal are of the same family, 'tis the diamond has lustre, because it is hard. Faults, M. Radisson had, which were almost crimes; but look you who judge him-his faults were not the faults of nearly all other men, the faults which are a crime-the crime of being weak!

The first thing our eyes lighted on when the sun rose in flaming darts through the gray haze of dawn was a half-built fort on an island in mid-river. At the water side lay a queer-rigged brigantine, rocking to the swell of the tide. Here, then, was cause of that firing heard across the marsh on the lower river.

"'Tis the pirate ship we saw on the high sea," muttered Godefroy, rubbing his eyes.

"She flies no flag! She has no license to trade! She's a poacher! She will make a prize worth the taking," added M. Radisson sharply. Then, as if to justify that intent-"As we have no license, we must either take or be taken!"

The river mist gradually lifted, and there emerged from the fog a stockaded fort with two bastions facing the river and guns protruding from loopholes.

"Not so easy to take that fort," growled Godefroy, who was ever a hanger-back.

"All the better," retorted M. de Radisson. "Easy taking makes soft men! 'Twill test your mettle!"

"Test our mettle!" sulked the trader, a key higher in his obstinacy. "All very well to talk, sir, but how can we take a fort mounted with twenty cannon--"

"I'll tell you the how when it's done," interrupted M. de Radisson.

But Godefroy was one of those obstinates who would be silent only when stunned.

"I'd like to know, sir, what we're to do," he began.

"Godefroy, 'twould be waste time to knock sense in your pate! There is only one thing to do always-only one, the right thing! Do it, fool! An I hear more clack from you till it's done, I'll have your tongue out with the nippers!"

Godefroy cowered sulkily back, and M. de Radisson laughed.

"That will quell him," said he. "When Godefroy's tongue is out he can't grumble, and grumbling is his bread of life!"

Stripping off his bright doublet, M. Radisson hung it from a tree to attract the fort's notice. Then he posted us in ambuscade with orders to capture whatever came.

But nothing came.

And when the fort guns boomed out the noon hour M. Radisson sprang up all impatience.

"I'll wait no man's time," he vowed. "Losing time is losing the game! Launch out!"

Chittering something about our throats being cut, Godefroy shrank back. With a quick stride M. Radisson was towering above him. Catching Godefroy by the scruff of the neck, he threw him face down into the canoe, muttering out it would be small loss if all the cowards in the world had their throats cut.

"The pirates come to trade," he explained. "They will not fire at Indians. Bind your hair back like that Indian there!"

No sooner were we in the range of the fort than M. Radisson uttered the shrill call of a native, bade our Indian stand up, and himself enacted the pantomime of a savage, waving his arms, whistling, and hallooing. With cries of welcome, the fort people ran to the shore and left their guns unmanned. Reading from a syllable book, they shouted out Indian words. It was safe to approach. Before they could arm we could escape. But we were two men, one lad, and a neutral Indian against an armed garrison in a land where killing was no murder.

M. de Radisson stood up and called in the Indian tongue. They did not understand.

"New to it," commented Radisson, "not the Hudson's Bay Company!"

All the while he was imperceptibly approaching nearer. He shouted in French. They shook their heads.

"English highwaymen, blundered in here by chance," said he.

Tearing off the Indian head-band of disguise, he demanded in mighty peremptory tones who they were.

"English," they called back doubtfully.

"What have you come for?" insisted Radisson, with a great swelling of his chest.

"The beaver trade," came a faint voice.

Where had I heard it before? Did it rise from the ground in the woods, or from a far memory of children throwing a bully into the sea?

"I demand to see your license," boldly challenged Radisson.

At that the fellows ashore put their heads together.

"In the name of the king, I demand to see your license instantly," repeated Sieur de Radisson, with louder authority.

"We have no license," explained one of the men, who was dressed with slashed boots, red doublet, and cocked hat.

M. Radisson smiled and poled a length closer.

"A ship without a license! A prize-for the taking! If the rascals complain-the galleys for life!" and he laughed softly.

"This coast is possessed by the King of France," he shouted. "We have a strong garrison! We mistook your firing for more French ships!" Shaping his hands trumpet fashion to his mouth, he called this out again, adding that our Indian was of a nation in league with the French.

The pirates were dumb as if he had tossed a hand grenade among them.

"The ship is ours now, lads," said Radisson softly, poling nearer. "See, lads, the bottom has tumbled from their courage! We'll not waste a pound o' powder in capturing that prize!" He turned suddenly to me-"As I live by bread, 'tis that bragging young dandy-prat-hop-o'-my-thumb-Ben Gillam of Boston Town!"

"Ben Gillam!"

I was thinking of my assailant in the woods. "Ben was tall. The pirate, who came carving at me, was small."

But Ben Gillam it was, turned pirate or privateer-as you choose to call it-grown to a well-timbered rapscallion with head high in air, jack-boots half-way to his waist, a clanking sword at heel, and a nose too red from rum.

As we landed, he sent his men scattering to the fort, and stood twirling his mustaches till the recognition struck him.

"By Jericho-Radisson!" he gasped.

Then he tossed his chin defiantly in air like an unbroken colt disposed to try odds with a master.

"Don't be afraid to land," he called down out of sheer impudence.

"Don't be afraid to have us land," Radisson shouted up to him. "We'll not harm you!"

Ben swore a big oath, fleered a laugh, and kicked the sand with his heels. Raising a hand, he signalled the watchers on the ship.

"Sorry to welcome you in this warlike fashion," said he.

"Glad to welcome you to the domain of His Most Christian Majesty, the King of France," retorted Radisson, leaping ashore.

Ben blinked to catch the drift of that.

"Devil take their majesties!" he ejaculated. "He's king who conquers!"

"No need to talk of conquering when one is master already," corrected M. de Radisson.

"Shiver my soul," blurts out Ben, "I haven't a tongue like an eel, but that's what I mean; and I'm king here, and welcome to you, Radisson!"

"And that's what I mean," laughed M. Radisson, with a bow, quietly motioning us to follow ashore. "No need to conquer where one is master, and welcome to you, Captain Gillam!"

And they embraced each other like spider and fly, each with a free hand to his sword-hilt, and a questioning look on the other's face.

Says M. Radisson: "I've seen that ship before!"

Ben laughs awkwardly. "We captured her from a Dutchman," he begins.

"Oh!" says Sieur Radisson. "I meant outside the straits after the storm!"

Gillam's eyes widen. "Were those your ships?" he asks. Then both men laugh.

"Not much to boast in the way of a fleet," taunts Ben.

"Those are the two smallest we have," quickly explains Radisson.

Gillam's face went blank, and M. Radisson's eyes closed to the watchful slit of a cat mouse-hunting.

"Come! Come!" exclaims Ben, with a sudden flare of friendliness, "I am no baby-eater! Put a peg in that! Shiver my soul if this is a way to welcome friends! Come aboard all of you and test the Canary we got in the hold of a fine Spanish galleon last week! Such a top-heavy ship, with sails like a tinker's tatters, you never saw! And her hold running over with Canary and Madeira-oh! Come aboard! Come aboard!" he urged.

It was Pierre Radisson's turn to blink.

"And drink to the success of the beaver trade," importunes Ben.

'Twas as pretty a piece of play as you could see: Ben, scheming to get the Frenchman captive; M. Radisson, with the lightnings under his brows and that dare-devil rashness of his blood tempting him to spy out the lad's strength.

"Ben was the body of the venture! Where was the brain? It was that took me aboard his ship," M. Radisson afterward confessed to us.

"Come! Come!" pressed Gillam. "I know young Stanhope there"-his mighty air brought the laugh to my face-"young Stanhope there has a taste for fine Canary--"

"But, lad," protested Radisson, with a condescension that was vinegar to Ben's vanity, "we cannot be debtors altogether. Let two of your men stay here and whiff pipes with my fellows, while I go aboard!"

Ben's teeth ground out an assent that sounded precious like an oath; for he knew that he was being asked for hostages of safe-conduct while M. Radisson spied out the ship. He signalled, as we thought, for two hostages to come down from the fort; but scarce had he dropped his hand when fort and ship let out such a roar of cannonading as would have lifted the hair from any other head than Pierre Radisson's.

Godefroy cut a caper. The Indian's eyes bulged with terror, and my own pulse went a-hop; but M. Radisson never changed countenance.

"Pardieu," says he softly, with a pleased smile as the last shot went skipping over the water, "you're devilish fond o' fireworks, to waste good powder so far from home!"

Ben mumbled out that he had plenty of powder, and that some fools didn't know fireworks from war.

M. Radisson said he was glad there was plenty of powder, there would doubtless be use found for it, and he knew fools oft mistook fireworks for war.

With that a cannon-shot sent the sand spattering to our boots and filled the air with powder-dust; but when the smoke cleared, M. Radisson had quietly put himself between Ben and the fort.

Drawing out his sword, the Frenchman ran his finger up the edge.

"Sharp as the next," said he.

Lowering the point, he scratched a line on the sand between the mark of the last shot and us.

"How close can your gunners hit, Ben?" asked Radisson. "Now I'll wager you a bottle of Madeira they can't hit that line without hitting you!"

Ben's hand went up quick enough. The gunners ceased firing and M. Radisson sheathed his sword with a laugh.

"You'll not take the odds? Take advice instead! Take a man's advice, and never waste powder! You'll need it all if he's king who conquers! Besides," he added, turning suddenly serious, "if my forces learn you are here I'll not promise I've strength to restrain them!"

"How many have you?" blurted Ben.

"Plenty to spare! Now, if you are afraid of the Hudson's Bay Company ships attacking you, I'd be glad to loan you enough young fire-eaters to garrison the fort here!"

"Thanks," says Ben, twirling his mustaches till they were nigh jerked out, "but how long would they stay?"

"Till you sent them away," says M. de Radisson, with the lights at play under his brows.

"Hang me if I know how long that would be," laughed Gillam, half-puzzled, half-pleased with the Frenchman's darting wits.

"Ben," begins M. Radisson, tapping the lace ruffle of Gillam's sleeve, "you must not fire those guns!"

"No?" questions Gillam.

"My officers are swashing young blades! What with the marines and the common soldiers and my own guard, 'tis all I can manage to keep the rascals in hand! They must not know you are here!"

Gillam muttered something of a treaty of truce for the winter.

M. Radisson shook his head.

"I have scarce the support to do as I will," he protests.

Young Gillam swore such coolness was scurvy treatment for an old friend.

"Old friend," laughed Radisson afterward. "Did the cub's hangdog of a father not offer a thousand pounds for my head on the end of a pikestaff?"

But with Ben he played the game out.

"The season is too far advanced for you to escape," says he with soft emphasis.

"'Tis why I want a treaty," answers the sailor.

"Come, then," laughs the Frenchman, "now-as to terms--"

"Name them," says Gillam.

"If you don't wish to be discovered--"

"I don't wish to be discovered!"

"If you don't wish to be discovered don't run up a flag!"

"One," says Gillam.

"If you don't wish to be discovered, don't let your people leave the island!"

"They haven't," says Gillam.

"What?" asks M. Radisson, glancing sharply at me; for we were both thinking of that night attack.

"They haven't left the island," repeats Gillam.

"Ten lies are as cheap as two," says Radisson to us. Then to Gillam, "Don't let your people leave the island, or they'll meet my forces."

"Two," says Gillam.

"If you don't wish the Fur Company to discover you, don't fire guns!"

"Three," says Gillam.

"That is to keep 'em from connecting with those inlanders," whispered Godefroy, who knew the plays of his master's game better than I. "We can beat 'em single; but if Ben joins the inlanders and the Fur Company against us--"

Godefroy completed his prophecy with an ominous shake of the head.

"My men shall not know you are here," M. Radisson was promising.

"One," counts Gillam.

"I'll join with you against the English ships!"

Young Gillam laughed derisively.

"My father commands the Hudson's Bay ship," says he.

"Egad, yes!" retorts M. Radisson nonchalantly, "but your father doesn't command the governor of the Fur Company, who sailed out in his ship."

"The governor does not know that I am here," flouts Ben.

"But he would know if I told him," adds M. de Radisson, "and if I told him the Company's captain owned half the ship poaching on the Company's preserve, the Company's captain and the captain's son might go hang for all the furs they'd get! By the Lord, youngster, I rather suspect both the captain and the captain's son would be whipped and hanged for the theft!"

Ben gave a start and looked hard at Radisson. 'Twas the first time, I think, the cub realized that the pawn in so soft-spoken a game was his own neck.

"Go on," he said, with haste and fear in his look. "I promised three terms. You will keep your people from knowing I am here and join me against the English-go on! What next?"

"I'll defend you against the Indians," coolly capped M. Radisson.

Godefroy whispered in my ear that he would not give a pin's purchase for all the furs the New Englander would get; and Ben Gillam looked like a man whose shoe pinches. He hung his head hesitating.

"But if you run up a flag, or fire a gun, or let your people leave the island," warned M. Radisson, "I may let my men come, or tell the English, or join the Indians against you."

Gillam put out his hand.

"It's a treaty," said he.

There and then he would have been glad to see the last of us; but M. Radisson was not the man to miss the chance of seeing a rival's ship.

"How about that Canary taken from the foreign ship? A galleon, did you say, tall and slim? Did you sink her or sell her? Send down your men to my fellows! Let us go aboard for the story."