River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1892-07-07

I
the first light of the dawn.
Late on the following day the band
drew up their canoes ON the banks of
the Shubenaeadie, where its waters be-
/ gan to REDEEM with the tide, and struck
through the woods by a dark trail.
The next day the captives were tor
tured by the sight of white steeple
in the distance belonging to an Acadian
settlement Crewe judged this to be
the village of Beaubassin. The surmise
was confirmed when, "A few hours later,
after wide detOur TO avoid the settle
ment. the flag Of France was seen wav-
1 ing over the foliage that clothed a long
/ line of heights. by this time the band
I was traversing a vast eXpanse of salt
marshes, and, after crossing a little
/ tidal stream near its head, they turned
/ sharply southwestward toward the sea.
/ Presently the raw red earthworls of
| Beauseiour rose into view some seven
/ or eight miles distant across the
marshes. There. among his bitter
enemies. CTewe knew he might find
sure succor if only the gallant French
men could be made aware of what was
/ passing so near them. lie saw Marga-
I ANN NAFNN AAsANAA NAAAA AfAAAbAC
upon the hostile works, wherein for her
/ and for her over lay safety; and, agon-
| lied To feel his utter helpiessness. he
/ raised long and ringing shout which.
/ as il seemed to him. must reach the
very souls of those behind the ramparts.
/ Margaret's heart leaped with hope,
/ " hich flickered out as she saw the In
I iii ans laugh grimly at the foolish effort.
\ To be within sight of help ans yet so
I infinitely helpless. For the first time
the girl yielded to complete despair,
and her head sank upon her breast.
After skirting for perhaps an hour a
red and all but empty channel, which
l Crewe recognized by hearsav as the bed
| of the TantramOr Tor Tintamarre,
water Of hubbub'') the savages sud
I denly led their captives down the steep,
/ cleaning abyss of mud to the edge of
the shallow current. which now. at low
tide, clattered shrilly seaward over
clods of blue clay and small stones
rolled down from the uplands.
/ Margaret awOke from her despair
enough To- shudder disdainfully, as her
I feet sank more than ankle deep in the
clinging ooze. and TO wonder why the
Indians should halt in such a place.
She met her lovers glance, and saw
that he was singularly disturbed.
/ The place was like hiLe rus gaping
I pit. \ double winding of the channel
/ closed it in above and below. Some
| forty or fifty feet over their heads.
against pure sky of loveliest blue,
waved shaggy fringe of salt grasses,
/ yellOwing in the autumn air. This
I harsh and meager heritage encircled
/ the rim of the chasm, and seemed to
make the outer world of men infinitely
remote. The sun. an hour or two past
noon. glared down whitley into the
/ gulf, and glistened. in a myriad of
steely reflections, from the polished
I but irregular sleeps of slime. There
was something 50 strange and mon
strous in the scene that Margaret's dull
misery was quickened To a nameless
horror. Suddenly a voice. which she
hardly recognized as that of her lover,
said slowly and steadily:
/ Margaret, this is the end of our Jour
ney; we have come to the end"
/ Looking up she met Crewe's eyes
/ fastened upon. her with a gaze which
/ seemed to sustain her and fill her
nerves with strength With the end Of
I his uncertainty his will became clear.
and his resolution perfect as tempered
steel An Indian. had brought two
stakes and thrown them on the mud at
the leaders feet. Margaret looked at
the rough-trimmed saplings, at the
tide-marl1 far up the dreadful slope,
then again into her lovers face. She
understood: but she gave no sign, save
that her skin blanched to a more death
" pallor, and she exclaimed, in a voice
of poignant regret: Have we kept
silence all these long hours only for
this? And | had so much to say to
yOur'
There will be time. " he said, gently,
and his voice was caress. ''1he flood
tide has not yet begun, and it will take
some hours. And it was well, dear,
that we could not speak; for SO you had
hope till the last 70 support you. while
had none, having heard the Indians
say we were to die. though they said
not in my hearing when or how. Had
you known You might not have had
this high courage OF yours, that now
| gives M strength to endure the utmost.
Dear. your heroic fortitude has been
everything to me"
4 faint flush of pride rose into the
girls face, and she stretched out her
piniOned arms To him and cried: You
shall not be deceived in me. will be
worthy of You. and will not shame our
race before these beasts"
BY this time the stakes were driven
into the strong clay. They were placed
some way up the slope, and one little
space above the other. To the lower
stake they fastened Crewe. As the girl
was being bound to the other her arms
we're freed for a moment that the saw
ages might the more readily remove her
upper garments, and by swift move
ment she loosened her hair so that IL
fell about her To her knees-the SPLEEN
did Neville hair. still famous in the
province. There was no bounty then
on English scalps. and the horror of the
scalping knife was not threatened them.
When the savages had made their task
complete they laughed in their victims
faces and retreated mp the steep and
over the grassy rim.
Are they gomez" asked the girl.
"No. they are lying in wait 20 watch
rs" answered Crewe; aud as he ceased
I speaking a muffied sound was heard
and with sudden hubbub that filled
the chasm with elamOr. the first of the
{ food tide came fOaming round the
curve. and Understanding current halted
as il in fear of the meeting. The next
moment the bed of the stream was hid
den by a boiling reddish torrent. racing
up the channel. and the tide was creep
ing by inches toward the captives' feet.
/ For an hour or more the bright gulf of
death was 50 loud with this turmoil
and with the echoes from the red walls
of mud. and the yellow eddies of foam
whirled and swept 50 dizzily past their
eyes, that the eaptives' senses were
I dulled in a measure, as If by some crude
anodvne or vast mesmeric influence.
[ When. however. the channel was about
one-third full. and the water now be-
ginning to cover Crewe's feet. the flood
became more quiet and equable,
I spreading smoothly over freer spaces.
/ Presently there was a frightful silence,
intensified by the steady sunlight, and
broken only by the stealthy soft rush
and snake-lilSe hiss of the tide. Then,
as Margaret's brain grew clear in the
( stiffness, low cry. which tortured