Leaving Jean standing upon the shore, Dane settled down to work and headed the canoe for the main channel. His time of idleness was now over, and he knew that stern duty lay ahead. Although it was hard for him to go away from the girl he loved, yet the spirit of a new adventure thrilled his soul. It was a call, insistent, imperative, and never had he disobeyed the voice. To him danger was a tonic, and the great wild with all its mystery and uncertainty was his playground. His nature demanded activity, and the lure of something beyond was as breath to his being.
The bark canoe seemed like a thing of life as it cut through the water and the night, straight for the open. It trembled as with excitement, impelled by the strong arms wielding the paddles. It was well seasoned to such work. It was Pete's favourite craft, and it knew all the streams for leagues around. It had poked its nose into every creek, cove, and tributary of the St. John River from the Kennebacasis to the Shogomoc. It knew the windings of the Washademoak, and the rolling billows of windy Grand Lake had tested its endurance. It had battled with running ice; it had been borne over innumerable portages; and it had lain concealed in many secret places while enemies had sped by in the darkness but a few yards away. It bore the scars of ice, rocks, and bullets, and its long, lean body had been patched and repatched. But notwithstanding all these years of hardships, it was as eager now as the hardy men who drove it forward to rush into new adventures.
Steadily Dane and Pete urged the springing craft onward. Seldom did they speak, and hardly a sound did they make as their paddles dipped rhythmically into the cold water. The sky was overcast, and not a star was to be seen. No lights gleamed along the shore. They were completely enwrapped by night and silence, securely enfolded in Nature's great secret embrace.
Reaching at length the upper end of an island which divides the river, they ran the canoe ashore, rested, and ate some of the food Jean and Old Mammy had so thoughtfully prepared. They talked in low voices, and Pete explained the cause of his long absence, where he had been, and how for some time he had been trailing the rebels until he had at last discovered the place and night of meeting to arrange plans for united action.
"How did you know where I was?" Dane asked. "I didn't tell any one where I was going."
"Me know, a'right. Me know white woman. Me know Dane."
"You were sure that I couldn't keep away from her?"
"A-ha-ha."
"But I never did such a thing before, Pete. When did you ever know me to run after a woman?"
"Dane find good white woman. Dane mak' no mistake."
"I have made no mistake," was the emphatic reply. "I am glad you like her, Pete."
"White woman good; tak' care babby, all sam' mamma. Bimeby Pete----"
He suddenly paused, and laid his right hand upon his companion's arm. But Dane's ears were as keen as his own, and he, too, had heard the sound of an approaching canoe. It was coming down river, and in a few minutes it was abreast of them. Nothing could the two concealed men see, but as the strange craft was sweeping by, a voice broke the silence.
"Is everything ready?" was the question Dane heard asked.
"Yes, Seth's looking after the plans," came a reply.
Nothing more could Dane distinguish, although he strained his ears to hear something further. To him that canoe speeding through the night, and the words he had overheard, had a sinister meaning. That it was Seth Lupin to whom reference had been made, there could be no doubt. So the villain was still lurking around. What were the plans he was looking after? Had they anything to do with Jean? He believed they had, and the thought caused him to give the canoe a savage thrust from the shore, which sent it reeling back into midstream, He must get through with this task, and then hurry as quickly as possible to the girl he loved. But who were the ones in the canoe? From their words he felt sure that they were white men. In what way were they connected with Seth Lupin, and whither were they bound?
He thought of all this as the canoe moved swiftly up the river, and he racked his brains in an effort to solve the problem of the plans Seth was looking after. He questioned Pete closely, but the Indian had not seen the villain nor heard anything about him.
In about an hour's time they came to a narrow channel which connected the river with a lake-like body of water several miles in extent, and known by the Indians as the "Wedneebak." Here they ran the canoe ashore, drew it out of the water and carried it up the bank and a short distance into the forest. Breaking off some fir boughs, they made for themselves beds upon the ground. Then taking off their jackets, they placed them over their bodies, and, lulled by the wind among the tree-tops, they were soon fast asleep.
Early dawn found them both awake, and watching with the keenest interest the narrow entrance to the Wedneebak. They ate sparingly of the food from the basket, hoping to make it last throughout the day. The morning was cold, but they did not dare to light a fire lest it should betray their presence. They took turns in watching the river and in moving about, so in this manner they were able to keep fairly warm.
During the morning Dane made a trip to a hill some distance inland, where from the upper branches of a large tree he obtained an excellent view of the upper stretch of the Wedneebak. He wished to learn if any of the rebels had already arrived for the council. From this elevated position his eyes scanned the shore, and soon detected several wreaths of smoke curling up into the air. How many men were there he could not tell, as the crowding trees hid them from view. He wondered if the pow-wow had already begun, or were the men waiting for others to arrive? He longed to go down to the shore, creep up close, and spy upon the rebels. This, however, he knew would be foolish, as it would be impossible in broad daylight to approach near enough to learn anything of importance. No, he must wait until night.
Pete was much pleased when Dane returned and told of the discovery he had made.
"Good, good," he said. "Plenty canoe come bimeby."
"But perhaps they are all there now," Dane suggested.
"No, more come bimeby. See 'm soon."
And in this the Indian was right, for as the day wore away, and darkness once more began to steal over the land, the canoes began to arrive. There were a dozen in all, and each contained a number of men, some of whom were Indians. They all came down river, entered the narrow channel, and sped up the Wedneebak.
As the last canoe disappeared around a bend, Dane and Pete slipped away from their place of watching. They moved rapidly through the forest, and hardly a sound did they make as they advanced. Their ears and eyes were keenly alert, for they were well aware that the critical time had now arrived, and that much depended upon their caution.
The darkness had now deepened, and no trail guided their steps. But to them this mattered little. The forest was their home, and their course was as unerring as birds in their flight or beasts in search of prey. A life-long training to one, and years to the other had developed the sense of instinct which always served when sight and hearing were of little or no avail.
And this stood them in good stead now, for when others would have detected nothing, they suddenly stopped dead in their tracks, dropped upon their hands and knees, and crept cautiously forward. Never did panthers move more warily than did those two human sleuth-hounds approach the unsuspecting men gathered from various places for the important council. From creeping they dropped into crawling, with their bodies close to the ground. In this manner they ere long came near the water, and not far from where the rebels were assembled. Here, concealed by night and a thick clump of small fir bushes, they were able to watch all that was taking place, and to hear every word uttered.
Ever since Pete had brought him word of this council a great fear had been tugging at Dane's heart. He said nothing, however, about it to his companion, but as he rapidly and anxiously scanned the faces of the men gathered about the big main fire, he breathed a sigh of relief. The one he feared might be present was not there. A weight was now lifted from his mind, so he felt in a better mood to spy upon the band before him.
He knew them all, Indians, English-speaking renegades from New England, and half-breeds. It was a motley gathering, and as he listened to the drifting conversation before the actual pow-wow began, he realised how bitter was the hatred to the English that rankled strong in every breast. The half-breeds had an old score to settle, and this was another desperate attempt on their part to arouse the dissatisfied natives against the Loyalists.
For a time it was an orderly gathering, and as the men ate of the abundance of food which had been provided, they talked in a quiet manner. But when the rum, of which there seemed to be no end, was passed around all became more talkative. They harangued, cursed, and wrangled with one another until it appeared to the concealed watchers that the whole affair would end in a fizzle. But Flazeet, the half-breed leader, seemed to be perfectly satisfied, and at times a grim smile overspread his dark brutal face.
Leaping at length to his feet, he ordered his companions to be silent. When he spoke in such a peremptory tone, they knew that it was well for them to obey, so after a little grumbling they settled down to listen to what he had to say.
Flazeet understood the Indian language, and was also well acquainted with the natives, so it was to them he now addressed his words. He told them first of all of the greatness of their race, and that the Great Spirit had given to their forefathers the land on which they lived. It was theirs, and no one had any right to take it from them. But strangers were coming in, and King George was going to take their hunting-grounds away and give them to others. And who were these newcomers? They were people who had been driven out of their own country for their badness. They had fought against the great white chief, George Washington, who had been so good to the Indians, and had sent them many presents during the war. These strangers had been defeated, and thousands of them had already arrived in ships, and were coming up the river to take possession of the hunting-grounds. The Indians would be driven out. They would die, because the newcomers would kill all the moose, deer, and caribou, cut down the trees, and destroy the fish on the various streams. These were some of the things they would do, and the Indians would have no hunting-grounds, so they, their wives and their children would starve. Would the Indians allow this? Would they let these bad men come in and take their lands? No, they must fight, drive these people out, and keep the country which was theirs by right. And now was the time to fight, before too many strangers arrived.
This in brief was Flazeet's long harangue. It made a deep impression upon the Indians, and they voiced their sentiments by occasional grunts of approval. So excited did several become when the speech was ended, that they leaped to their feet, and inflamed by the words and the rum, they were ready to march at once against the strangers. But Flazeet told them to wait, as the newcomers were many and well armed. It would be necessary to move slowly, and to be very careful. And, besides, there were Indians who would stand by the treaty which had been made with King George at the mouth of the river, and they would have to fight against them. This matter must be kept a profound secret, and when they did attack, it must be swift and deadly.
With considerable difficulty Flazeet managed to calm the warlike natives. Then more rum was passed around, followed by much talking and squabbling. All this was most gratifying to Flazeet, and especially interesting to the two couriers concealed among the bushes. Pete's great body quivered with excitement, and Dane could hardly control himself. How he longed for a score of tested men, that he might spring upon the rebels, and give them the surprise of their lives.
When at length the excitement had subsided, Gab Rauchad rose slowly to his feet. He was a wiry little half-breed, with a cunning, fox-like face. He spoke in French, and he addressed himself chiefly to his own people. He took them back to the expulsion of the Acadians by the English in 1755, a tale old and yet ever new. In vivid language he described the happy condition of the Acadians at Grand Pre, the lands they had cleared, and the peaceful lives they led. Then came the English monsters, broke up their domestic hearths, confiscated their property, and drove them from the country. He described in detail the privations the expelled Acadians endured, how they wandered from place to place, and the ills which overtook them.
For some time he spoke, and every word told of the burning rage which filled his heart. His hatred to the English was intense, and he declared that the time of vengeance had now arrived. With the aid of the Indians they would serve the newcomers as their fool of a king had served the Acadians. He became greatly excited as he talked, dancing about, waving his arms, and shrieking forth words of defiance and revenge. He cursed King George and the English in general, and called upon all present to unite now in a great effort to free the land from the newcomers, and to hold it for the expelled Acadians and the Indians who were their brothers and comrades in distress.
All this was hard for Dane to endure, and as he listened his nimble mind was forming some definite plan of action. That it must be immediate he was well aware, as no doubt these rebels would not be long in carrying out their evil and treacherous designs upon the newcomers. His mind naturally turned to Jean. Suppose that band of men before him should sweep down unexpectedly upon the little settlement below Oak Point, how much mercy would they be likely to grant the Loyalists? He imagined what would be the fate of the women, especially Jean and other maidens. He shuddered as he thought of Joe Flazeet and his companions gloating over their victims.
"The English took the lands of the Acadians at Grand Pre because they wanted them for themselves." It was Rauchad speaking, and he was appealing to the Indians as Flazeet had done to the half-breeds. "And as they took those lands, so they will take your hunting grounds and drive you out. The Acadians had happy homes; what have they now? Nothing. They had plenty; now they are starving. And who did this? King George, our mortal enemy. France and England are now at war. But France will win, and this land will belong to us once again, and then the Indians will be well treated, and we will all live as one brother. Let us do our part now in fighting for the good King of France."
His words met with much approval, and when he had ended, Flazeet arose and outlined the plan of attack. This was just what Dane was waiting to hear, and he missed not a single word. He was greatly excited, and he controlled himself with difficulty as he listened to Flazeet. The Loyalists down river were to be wiped out first of all, especially those below Oak Point and at Kingston Creek. They would then move rapidly up river and have the entire country conquered ere assistance could reach the newcomers from Fort Howe. It would be a clean sweep of the objectionable strangers, and what could Major Studholme do with the few men under his command?
When Dane had gained all the information that was necessary, he touched Pete on the shoulder, and in another minute they were away from the scene of wild revelry which had now begun. It did not take them long to reach the narrow channel, and launch their canoe. This they headed up stream, and with strong arms drove it through the water, straight for Oromocto miles beyond.