The King's Arrow Part 9

"Isn't it wonderful!" she breathed. "I never saw anything like it.

Why, it's a real fairy-land."

She was startled by a cry from Mammy, and turning quickly around, she saw the woman pointing excitedly to the big pine tree. The Colonel, aroused from slumber, had leaped to his feet, and was staring straight before him as Jean hurried up from the sh.o.r.e.

"What is the matter?" the girl asked.

"Look, look!" Mammy cried, pointing to the tree. "De debbil has been here."

Jean's eyes were now resting upon the object of the woman's excitement, and she, too, was filled with astonishment. She stared at the trout and the arrow, and then looked wonderingly at her father.

"How do you suppose they got there, daddy?" she questioned.

"It was de debbil, I tell ye," Mammy insisted before the Colonel could speak. "He's been in dis place, an' dat's his mark."

"He must be very friendly, then," the Colonel replied. "I don't mind how often he comes if he leaves fish, and they are trout at that."

By this time the entire camp had been aroused, and men, women and children were gathered near, gazing with wide-eyed astonishment upon the big pine. There were numerous conjectures as to the meaning of the arrow and the fish. Most, however, were of the opinion that it was the work of Indians, and that no doubt they were lurking near. Fearful glances were cast along the silent forest aisles, and vivid imagination pictured dusky warriors ready to swoop down with terrible war-whoops.

But Old Mammy scoffed at this idea.

"It's de debbil, I tell ye, an' no Injun," she declared. "Dat's his mark, an' he's plannin' some mischief. It's a warnin' to us all. We nebber should hab come to sich a place as dis."

The Colonel listened with considerable amus.e.m.e.nt to what was being said. At length, however, he stepped forward and laid his right hand upon the fish. With a cry of fear Mammy sprang to his side.

"Doan touch 'em! Doan touch 'em!" she shrieked. "It ain't safe! It ain't safe!"

"Why, Mammy, what do you mean?" the Colonel asked.

"Go 'way, go 'way," the excited woman pleaded. "Dey belong to de debbil, an' he'll bewitch ye. Doan touch 'em."

"Look here, Mammy," and there was a note of sternness in the Colonel's voice, "I want you to be quiet. I thought you had more sense. The devil had nothing to do with this. It's the Lord's arrow, it seems to me. He sent the ravens of old to feed his faithful servant in the wilderness, so perhaps he has sent the Indians to do the same to us now. Anyway, we are going to have a taste of fish for breakfast. It would be a shame to throw away such excellent trout."

Jean had been a silent and interested spectator of all that had taken place. Like her father she was somewhat amused at the various expressions of fear. She was not afraid of the Indians, neither was she superst.i.tious enough to believe that the devil had anything to do with the arrow and the fish. But when the Colonel spoke about the "Lord's Arrow," she gave a sudden start, while the light of understanding dawned in her eyes. The "King's Arrow" at once came into her mind, and she thought of him who had come to her rescue at Portland Point. Could it be possible that he had anything to do with it? she asked herself. Was that arrow a token that he was near? And were the fish a sign of his care? She glanced around as if expecting to see him emerge from the forest to explain the whole matter. Her heart beat fast, and the rich blood tingled to her cheeks. She withdrew a few steps lest her confusion should be observed. The King's Arrow. The King's Arrow. It kept surging through her mind. It could be no one else, she reasoned. She longed to speak, to tell of the discovery she had made. But how could she explain? Would she not betray her feelings, and thus increase her embarra.s.sment? Would it not be better to remain silent than to lay bare to others the thoughts which were agitating her heart and mind?

She was aroused by her father bidding her to help prepare one of the fish for breakfast, as Mammy would have nothing to do with it. She obeyed with alacrity, pleased to have something to do. As she looked upon the speckled beauty she thought how like an arrow it appeared; its long, lithe body resembling the smooth shaft; the head and gills the barbed point; and the spreading tail the feathered end. She wondered if there was a meaning in all this, or was it merely her own foolish imagination?

She thought much about this during the days that followed, although she mentioned it to no one, not even to Old Mammy. For several nights a number of the younger men had kept watch, with their special attention directed to the big pine. This, however, soon proved very irksome, and as nothing further happened, the watch was discontinued. The men worked hard by day erecting their rude log cabins, so they could ill afford to sit up all night. A feeling of security gradually pervaded the camp, and all became cheerful and hopeful.

At a meeting held one night they decided upon the name "Loyal" for their little community.

"I feel we could not choose a better one," the Colonel said. "Every one here is an outcast for loyalty to the King, and when we get our flag-staff erected, the Union Jack floating above the trees will be a reminder to friend and foe alike of our unswerving devotion."

No one had interfered with the arrow embedded in the pine, and that lordly tree had been left standing while most of its nearby companions had fallen beneath the axe. Not a day pa.s.sed that Jean did not glance toward the arrow, and each time she thought of him who had become so real to her. But for two weeks no further sign was vouchsafed, until one morning as she came forth from her tent she saw a brace of fine partridges hanging from the arrow. Once more excitement spread throughout the camp, and again various conjectures were heard as to the presence of the partridges. The birds were carefully examined, and several small pieces of lead were found in their bodies. Jean showed these to Mammy in her effort to convince the superst.i.tious servant that the devil had nothing to do with it.

"Why, these birds were shot, Mammy," she explained. "Some one with a gun did it, and brought them to us."

"Ah, Missie Jean," and the old woman raised a warning finger, "de debbil knows eberyt'ing. He kin use a gun when he wants to, an' he kin make men do his nasty work. Didn't he put it into de heart of ol'

Judas Scariot to betray de good Lo'd? An' mark my word, dat's jes what he's doin' now. He's up to some trick."

"But why would he be so friendly, Mammy? He's helping us instead of trying to do us harm."

"Doan ye know yo' Bible, chile? Doesn't it say in de Good Book dat de debbil comes to folks as an angel of light, an' makes 'em b'lieve dat he's friendly an' good? No, ye kin nebber trust de debbil. He's got somet'ing up his sleeve, an' doan yo' fo'git it."

Jean merely smiled at the woman's fears, knowing how useless it was to reason any further. She was satisfied in her own mind where the birds had come from, and the thought brought a thrill to her heart. This was intensified several days later when two wild ducks were found one morning suspended from the arrow.

"This is getting to be almost uncanny," the Colonel remarked as he examined the birds. "Whoever is responsible for these presents is a strange friend. I wish he would make himself known that we might thank him."

Jean was of the same opinion, although she did not say so. She had often wondered why Dane Norwood had remained hidden. That it was the courier she had not the slightest doubt. But why did he not come by day that she might see him?

Two weeks pa.s.sed and nothing more happened. Most of the houses were almost completed. The Colonel had his finished first, and it was a proud day when he gave the order to move their few belongings from the tent. This was soon done, and Jean and Mammy spent the whole of the afternoon fitting up their new abode. The day was unusually hot, and at times they were forced to seek shelter beneath the shade of some friendly trees. Night brought but little respite, and even Old Mammy complained of the heat.

"Dis is de first time I'se been wa'm since comin' to dis place," she announced. "It reminds me of my ol' home in de Souf, it sa'tinly does."

At length a vivid flash of lightning streaked the air, followed immediately by a roll of thunder off to the west.

"It's just what I've been expecting" the Colonel remarked, as he walked over to the door and looked out. "Such heat as we've had to-day is generally followed by a thunder storm. It is coming this way fast.

Listen to that."

The storm was rolling up rapidly over the hills, while the play of the lightning was grand and terrible. And mingled with the roar of thunder was the sound of the hurrying feet of the rain driven before the onrushing wind. Suddenly a blinding flash illumined water and land, followed instantly by a crash that shook the cabin. Old Mammy gave a shriek of fear, and caught Jean in her arms.

"Oh, oh, oh!" she moaned. "Dis is turrible! We'll all be killed!

We'll all be killed!"

"Hush, hush, Mammy," Jean ordered. "Don't get so excited. This storm will soon be over, will it not, daddy?"

"Most likely," the Colonel replied. "But come here, dear, I want you to see this wonderful electric display upon the water."

Freeing herself from the colored woman's embrace, the girl rose, crossed the room, and stood by her father's side. As she turned her eyes upon the river, she gave a gasp of astonishment. Between the sh.o.r.e and the Isle of Vines the lightning was holding high carnival.

For an instant there was intense darkness, followed by a succession of brilliant, flickering illuminations, bewildering to the senses.

Several times she was forced to turn away her head, but only for a second, as she was compelled by some strange fascination to look upon the wonderful spectacle. Flash upon flash, racing gleam upon gleam, Stygian darkness and crashing thunder intermingled in an appalling confusion. Jean felt that she could endure the sight no longer. Her body trembled, and her eyes ached. She was about to go back to Mammy, when her father laid his hand upon her shoulder.

"What is that out there?" he asked. "Ah, it's gone now. It seemed to me like a boat. There it is again."

Jean looked and for a few seconds was enabled to catch a glimpse of a craft of some kind coming to them straight from the island.

"It is a canoe, daddy, and I can see some one paddling. Who can it be on the river in such a storm as this?"

And just then the rain swept down, forcing them to retreat a few steps within the cabin. But still they peered forth, and with fast-beating hearts watched the approaching voyager. Whenever a glimmering flash revealed the canoe, it resembled a mystic bark riding through the storm, encircled with a living fire. So weird and mysterious did it seem that Jean caught her father impulsively by the arm, while a slight cry of awe escaped her lips.

"It isn't natural, daddy," she whispered. "It's uncanny. Do you suppose it's a spirit?"

"No, no, dear. It's an Indian, no doubt. Look, he has stopped paddling now, and is about to land."

Darkness again intervened, and the next flash revealed a tall form stepping upon the sh.o.r.e as blackness once more enshrouded him. The next glimpse showed him coming toward the cabin, carrying a bundle in his arms. In another minute he was at the door, an Indian of magnificent physique, clad in buckskins, with a squirrel-skin cap upon his head. He smiled as he looked upon the astonished ones before him.

Then he held out the bundle toward the girl.

"White woman tak' babby, eh?" he asked,

But Jean hesitated, and drew back a little. This seemed to surprise the Indian.