Indians of North America -- Wars -- 1812-1815 -- Fiction; United States -- History -- War of 1812 -- Fiction
Amid many calls of adieu and bon voyage from the kindly French people
the travellers set off. The sun was not yet up, but as the three
cantered to the ford close beside the blockhouse, that frowned from
the southwest corner of the fort, the morning gun boomed and the Stars
and Stripes flung out to the breeze. An instant later, as the horses
splashed through the shallow water, the sun thrust out through a gash
in the clouds above the eastern forest, lighting up the snapping banner
with its seventeen emblematic stars. A moment more, and the dew-studded
fields began to glisten like diamonds, coruscating with many-colored
fire, and the mists that lay along the river shredded and swirled in
rainbow tints. The wind sprang up and the vast arch of the heavens
thummed with reverberant murmurs, inarticulate voices of a world new
born, thrilling with the ever-fresh hopes with which it had thrilled
since the morning of time.
For a few miles the road ran through open fields that stretched along
the north bank of the Maumee, a sunlit water strung with necklaces of
bubbles that streamed away from the long grasses that lay upon its
surface. A faint freshness rose like perfume from the stream, diffusing
itself through the amber air. Here and there limbs of sunken trees
protruded from the water, token of the great trunks submerged beneath
its flood; round them castles of foam swelled and sank, chuckling away
into nothingness.
Then came the forest, a mounting line stretching across the path.
Fragrant at first and warm with the morning sun it swiftly closed in,
dim and moist and cool, arching above the road and the heads of the
travellers.
Side by side rode Jack and Alagwa. The girl’s heart was beating high,
leaping in unison with the stride of the horse that bore her. Gone were
the fancies and questionings of the night. For good or for ill she had
sent the message to Tecumseh. She had kept faith with those who had
cared for her for so many years. She had insured Jack’s safety so long
as she should remain with him. It was all done and could not be undone.
Some day, she knew, she must pay for it all, pay to the uttermost, but
that day was not yet. Till it came she would forget. Resolutely she put
all fear of the future behind her, living only in and for the moment.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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