The Frontier

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10. We Attain The Ottawa



It was not yet dawn when the stir in the camp aroused me, and the sun had not risen above the bluffs, or begun to tinge the river, when our laden canoes left the bank and commenced their day's journey up stream. De Artigny was off in advance, departing indeed before I had left the tent, the chief seated beside him. I caught but a glimpse of them as the canoe rounded the bend in the bank, and slipped silently away through the lingering shadows, yet it gladdened me to know his eyes were turned toward my tent until they vanished.

Cassion approached me with excessive politeness, waiting until the last moment, and escorting me to the shore. It made me smile to observe his pretense at gallantry, yet I accepted his assistance down the bank with all possible graciousness, speaking to him so pleasantly as to bring a look of surprise to his face. 'Twas plain to be seen that my conduct puzzled him, for although he sought to appear at ease, his words faltered sadly. He, who had so long considered himself as past master of the art of love-making had most unexpectedly encountered a character which he could not comprehend.

However, that his purpose was in no way changed was made evident as we took our places in the canoes. A new distribution had been arranged, Chevet accompanying the sergeant, leaving the Commissaire and me alone, except for the père, who had position in the bow. I observed this new arrangement from underneath lowered lashes, but without comment, quietly taking the place assigned me, and shading my face from the first rays of the sun.

The day which followed was but one of many we were destined to pass in the canoes. I have small recollection of it, except the weariness of my cramped position, and Cassion's efforts to entertain. Our course kept us close to the north shore, the high banks cutting off all view in that direction, while in the other there was nothing to see but an expanse of water.

Except for a single canoe, laden with furs, and propelled by Indian paddlers, bound for Quebec and a market, we encountered no travelers. These swept past us swiftly in grip of the current, gesticulating, and exchanging salutations, and were soon out of sight. Our own boats scattered, as no danger held us together, and there were hours when we failed to have even a glimpse of their presence.

At noon we landed in a sheltered cove, brilliant with wild flowers, and partook of food, the rearward canoes joining us, but De Artigny was still ahead, perhaps under orders to keep away. To escape Cassion, I clambered up the front of the cliff, and had view from the summit, marking the sweep of the river for many a league, a scene of wild beauty never to be forgotten. I lingered there at the edge until the voice of the Commissaire recalled me to my place in the canoe.

It is of no consequence now what we conversed about during that long afternoon, as we pushed steadily on against the current. Cassion endeavored to be entertaining and I made every effort to encourage him, although my secret thoughts were not pleasant ones. Where was all this to lead? Where was to be the end? There was an expression in the man's face, a glow in his eyes, which troubled me. Already some instinct told me that his carelessness was a thing of the past. He was in earnest now, his vague desire stimulated by my antagonism.

He had set out to overcome my scruples, to conquer my will, and was merely biding his time, seeking to learn the best point of attack. It was with this end in view that he kept me to himself, banishing Chevet, and compelling De Artigny to remain well in advance. He was testing me now by his tales of Quebec, his boasting of friendship with the Governor, his stories of army adventure, and the wealth he expected to amass through his official connections. Yet the very tone he assumed, the conceit shown in his narratives, only served to add to my dislike. This creature was my husband, yet I shrank from him, and once, when he dared to touch my hand, I drew it away as though it were contamination. It was then that hot anger leaped into his eyes, and his true nature found expression before he could restrain the words:

"Mon Dieu! What do you mean, you chit?"

"Only that I am not won by a few soft words, Monsieur," I answered coldly.

"But you are my wife; 'twill be well for you to remember that."

"Nor am I likely to forget, yet because a priest has mumbled words over us does not make me love you."

"Sacre!" he burst forth, yet careful to keep his voice pitched to my ears alone, "you think me a plaything, but you shall learn yet that I have claws. Bah! do you imagine I fear the coxcomb ahead?"

"To whom do you refer, Monsieur?"

"Such innocence! to that boot-licker of La Salle's to whom you give your smiles, and pretty words."

"Rene de Artigny!" I exclaimed pleasantly, and then laughed. "Why how ridiculous you are, Monsieur. Better be jealous of Père Allouez yonder, for of him I see far the most. Why do you pick out De Artigny on whom to vent your anger?"

"I like not the way he eyes you, nor your secret meetings with him in Quebec."

"If he even sees me I know it not, and as for secret meetings, knew you not that Sister Celeste was with me while we talked."

"Not in the Governor's palace."

"You accuse me of that then," indignantly. "Because I am your wife, you can insult, yet it was your hand that drew aside the curtain, and found me alone. Do you hope to gain my respect by such base charges as that, Monsieur?"

"Do you deny that he had been with you?"

"I? Do I deny! It is not worthy my while. Why should I? We were not married then, nor like to be to my knowledge. Why, then, if I wished, was it not my privilege to speak with the Sieur de Artigny? I have found him a very pleasant, and polite young man."

"A pauper, his only fortune the sword at his side."

"Ah, I knew not even that he possessed one. Yet of what interest can all this be to me, Monsieur, now that I am married to you?"

That my words brought him no comfort was plain enough to be seen, yet I doubt if it ever occurred to his mind that I simply made sport, and sought to anger him. It was on his mind to say more, yet he choked the words back, and sat there in moody silence, scarce glancing at me again during the long afternoon. But when we finally made landing for the night, it was plain to be seen that his vigilance was in no wise relaxed, for, although he avoided me himself, the watchful Jesuit was ever at my side, no doubt in obedience to his orders. This second camp, as I recall, was on the shore of Lake St. Peter, in a noble grove, the broad stretch of waters before us silvered by the sinking sun. My tent was pitched on a high knoll, and the scene outspread beneath was one of marvelous beauty. Even the austere père was moved to admiration, as he pointed here and there, and conversed with me in his soft voice. Cassion kept to the men along the bank below, while Chevet lay motionless beside a fire, smoking steadily.

I had no glimpse of De Artigny, although my eyes sought him among the others. The chief, Altudah, glided out from among the trees as it grew dusk, made some report, and as quickly disappeared again, leaving me to believe the advance party had made camp beyond the curve of the shore. The priest lingered, and we had our meal together, although it was not altogether to my liking. Once he endeavored to talk with me on the sacredness of marriage, the duty of a wife's obedience to her husband, the stock phrases rolling glibly from his tongue, but my answers gave him small comfort. That he had been so instructed by Cassion was in my mind, and he was sufficiently adroit to avoid antagonizing me by pressing the matter. As we were eating, a party of fur traders, bound east, came ashore in a small fleet of canoes, and joined the men below, building their fires slightly up stream. At last Père Allouez left me alone, and descended to them, eager to learn the news from Montreal. Yet, although seemingly I was now left alone, I had no thought of adventuring in the darkness, as I felt convinced the watchful priest would never have deserted my side had he not known that other eyes were keeping vigil.

From that moment I never felt myself alone or unobserved. Cassion in person did not make himself obnoxious, except that I was always seated beside him in the boat, subject to his conversation, and attentions. Ever I had the feeling the man was testing me, and venturing how far he dared to go. Not for a moment did I dare to lower my guard in his presence, and this constant strain of watchfulness left me nervous, and bitter of speech.

In every respect I was a prisoner, and made to realize my helplessness. I know not what Cassion suspected, what scraps of information he may have gained from Chevet, but he watched me like a hawk. Never, I am sure, was I free of surveillance--in the boat under his own eye; ashore accompanied everywhere by Père Allouez, except as I slept, and then even some unknown sentry kept watch of the tent in which I rested. However it was managed I know not, but my uncle never approached me alone, and only twice did I gain glimpse of Sieur de Artigny--once, when his canoe returned to warn us of dangerous water ahead, and once when he awaited us beside the landing at Montreal. Yet even these occasions yielded me new courage, for, as our eyes met I knew he was still my friend, waiting, as I was, the opportunity for a better understanding. This knowledge brought tears of gratitude to my eyes, and a thrill of hope to my heart. I was no longer utterly alone.

We were three days at Montreal, the men busily engaged in adding to their store of provisions. I had scarcely a glimpse of the town, as I was given lodging in the convent close to the river bank, and the père was my constant companion during hours of daylight. I doubt if he enjoyed the task any more than I, but he proved faithful to his master, and I could never venture to move without his black robe at my side.

Nor did I seek to avoid him, for my mind grasped the fact already that my only hope of final liberty lay in causing Cassion to believe I had quietly yielded to fate. Surely as we plunged deeper into the wilderness his suspicions would vanish, and his grim surveillance relax. I must patiently abide my time. So I sat with the sisters within the dull, gray walls, seemingly unconscious of the père's eyes stealthily watching my every motion, as he pretended other employment.

Cassion came twice, more to assure himself that I was safely held than for any other purpose, yet it pleased me to see his eyes follow my movements, and to realize the man had deeper interest in me than formerly. Chevet, no doubt, spent his time in the wine shops; at least I never either saw, or heard of him. Indeed I asked nothing as to his whereabouts, as I had decided already his assistance would be of no value.

We departed at dawn, and the sun was scarce an hour high when the prows of our canoes turned into the Ottawa. Now we were indeed in the wilderness, fronting the vast unknown country of the West, with every league of travel leaving behind all trace of civilization. There was nothing before us save a few scattered missions, presided over by ragged priests, and an occasional fur trader's station, the headquarters of wandering couriers du bois. On every side were the vast prairies, and stormy lakes, roamed over by savage men and beasts through whom we must make our way in hardship, danger, and toil.

Cassion spread out his rude map in the bottom of the canoe, and I had him point out the route we were to follow. It was a long, weary way he indicated, and, for the moment, my heart almost failed me, as we traced together the distance outlined, and pictured in imagination the many obstacles between us and our goal. Had I known the truth, all those leagues were destined to disclose of hardship and peril, I doubt my courage to have fronted them. But I did not know, nor could I perceive a way of escape. So I crushed back the tears dimming my eyes, smiled into his face, as he rolled up the map, and pretended to care not at all.

When night came we were in the black woods, the silence about us almost unearthly, broken only by the dash of water over the rocks below where we were camped, promising a difficult portage on the morrow. Alone, oppressed by the silence, feeling my helplessness as perhaps I never had before, and the dread loneliness of the vast wilderness in which I lay, I tossed on my bed for hours, ere sheer exhaustion conquered, and I slept.