Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1916-10-17

ment, no shrinking-just those silent.
motionless men standing In the posi-
tons assigned to them, the dim light
cleaning on their naked bodies. their
ready weapons
heard the voices of the white men.
speaking quietly. giving last instrue-
tons as they passed along the lines.
Sequitah took his place. not two yards
from me. standing like statue. his
| face stern and emotionless Out of
the darkness came D'Artigny. pausing
an instant before the chief
'AII is well, Sequitah:"
| "Good-'tis as the white chief
wishes
Then we move at once; La Forest
will guide the rear; you and will
march together. Give your warriors
the word
He turned and took my hand.
You will walk with me. dear one;
! you are not afraid?"
Not of the peril OF coming battle .
I answered "I-I think hardly real
| ize what that all means; but the risk
you run. Rene! If-if you win. you
will be prisoner condemned to
| death"
He laughed, and bent low, so l felt
his lips brush my cheek.
You do not understand, dear girl.
A moment and I will explain--once we
| are beyond the stream. Now | must
see that all move together"
We advanced through the woods
down slight incline. the Indians NOV
ing like so many phantoms. Not a
branch ratified as they glided silently
! forward not a leaf rustled beneath
the soft tread of moccasined feet.
D'Artigny led me by the hand. aiding
me to move quietly over the uneven
| ground, but made no effort to speak.
Beside US, not unlike a shadow. strobe
| the chief Sequitah, his stern face up
lifted. Swallowed by long black hair. a
rifle gripped in his sinewy arms. We
crossed the little river. D'Artigny bear
| opposite shore, waited for the others
to follow. They came, a long line of
dark, shadowy forms, wading cautious
| ly through the shallow water and
ranged themselves just below the bank.
| many still standing in the stream.
What light there was fickered over
naked bodies. and revealed savage eyes
| cleaning from out masses of black
hair
D'Artigny stepped forward on the
exposed root of a tree to where he
could see his dusky followers, and La
Forest climbed the bank and joined
him. 4 moment the two men con-
ferred, turning about to question Sc
quiiah. AS they separated could dis
tiAguish D'Artigny's final words.
Very well. then. if it is your wish
l take command. Sequitah. hundred
warriors will follow you along the
trail-you know it well. Have your
best scouts in advance, and circle your
braves so as to make attack impos-
! sible. Your scouts will not go beyond
the great rock except on my order.
NJ. la Forest will accompany them.
This is clear?"
The Indian muttered response in his
wv III SpOhC bOtS ,
| and the mass of warriors below
| changed formation, the greater number
climbing the bank, and grouping
| themselves in the darker shadow of
| the woods
"Who has charge of the others ~
| asked D'Artigny.
"Bastian Courtray," replied La For
est. HE is yonder."
Then, Courtray, listen: You follow
| the stream but do not venture from
cover. Post your men below the stock
ade and wait to intercept fugitives. We
will do the fighting above. Are the
warriors with you armed"
"All but ten have rifles, monsieur.
but | know not if they be of value.'
"You must make the best use of
them you can. Above all things, be
quiet. and do nothing to alarm the Iro-
quois. You may CO."
leaned forward, watching them as
they vaded downstream. and then
climbed the bank. disappearing in the
| underground. Sequitah had moved
past me, and l heard his voice speak
| ing in Indian dialect. Along the forest
| aisles his warriors glided by where |
stood, noiselessly as shadows. In an
60 - moment D'Artigny and l were
alone. the black night all about us, and
not a sound reaching our ears to tell
| of those vanished allies. He took my
hand, caress in his touch, sugges-
| ton of pride in his voice.
1.-THE old chief is warrior STILL" he
said land, unless all signs fail, the
| Iroquois will long remember this day.
Come. Adele. twill not do for us to
be far behind. and we have walked this
| trail before together"
Had l not tested it with my own
ears, never would | have believed a