At last Black Eagle yanked his gaze away from Marisa and said, “Yes, you are to leave me, and at once. I will hold the enemy off for as long as I can.”
As he spoke, he turned his attention to his weapons, whereupon he proceeded to load his musket with powder and lead. “Go! Now!” He waved them away.
Sarah watched as Marisa hesitated. But then, as though compelled, she inched toward Black Eagle and laid her hand on his arm. She said, “I cannot leave you.”
Sarah would have spoken up in denial, for it was her duty to protect her charge. But she was spared the opportunity.
“You must,” responded Black Eagle gently. “If you stay, you might be killed accidentally. Now go! Both of you, go!”
Sarah was already backing away. Grabbing a handful of the material of Marisa’s dress, she urged the woman to crawl backward along with her. But Marisa broke free of Sarah’s hold and again scooted up close to Black Eagle. Placing her fingers over Black Eagle’s hand, she massaged it gently before she said, “I want you to know that I love you.”
He was quiet, but for a moment only. At last he replied simply, “I know. Now go!”
Unfortunately for Marisa, there was little more to be said. As Sarah watched the two lovers exchange a look, she backed away, and this time Marisa followed.
The horses were already saddled. Both women were good riders, and though Sarah offered a hand to help Marisa into her seat, Marisa waved her away. Sarah wasted no time, and ran to the other mount, but had no more than placed her foot into the stirrup when Thompson appeared out of the woods, running toward them. He was a big man, unclean; plus, in Sarah’s opinion, despite the fact that he was supposed to be their real guide, he was a bully. Lucklessly for them, he had his sights set on Marisa and was shooting toward her like a well-aimed bullet.
“Yaw!” he shouted as he ran. “Where do ye think ye are a-goin’? ”
Neither Sarah nor Marisa had a chance to utter a word. In an instant, Thompson had laid siege upon the two women, attacking Marisa first, pulling her off her seat. Instinctively a scream formed in Sarah’s throat, but more than aware of the enemy about them, she contained it. Whisking her foot out of the stirrup, she came down, landing on both feet. Immediately, she pulled two pistols from their cases on her mount, pushing the guns into the pockets of her dress, and rushed toward Marisa. Thompson held Marisa in his grip, but by sheer willpower alone, Sarah snatched her out of their tormentor’s clutches.
But Thompson was a persistent bully, and bringing up his flintlock, he took aim at Marisa. However, luck was on their side; his gun wasn’t primed.
Both Sarah and Marisa ran for cover. Extracting one of the weapons from her pocket, Sarah handed it to Marisa, keeping the other gun for herself.
Fortunately, Thompson’s shot never materialized. Perhaps the brute was well aware of the threesome’s precarious situation. Mayhap he was cognizant that the three of them—Black Eagle and the two women—might never escape.
Whatever the reason, instead of loading the weapon and taking aim, Thompson merely grinned toward the spot where the women had disappeared. Then, clutching hold of both of the horses, Thompson fled back into the woods. But not before he said, “I leave ye to yer fate.”
“Pray,” Marisa mumbled softly, “Black Eagle was right. It was Thompson who was causing our troubles.”
“Aye,” agreed Sarah, “so it was.”
“Well,” said Marisa, “there’s little we can do now. Let us return to the shore and help Black Eagle as best we can.”
“Yes,” whispered Sarah. But exactly what help they could be to him remained to be seen. They needed Black Eagle’s protection much more than he required theirs. Still, both women bent down to hands and knees, and pushing their skirts out of the way, they scooted back toward Black Eagle.
They found Black Eagle in the same spot where they had left him, and Sarah was quick to note that one of the canoes, the one carrying the two Frenchmen, was continuing on forward on the lake. However, the enemy’s other canoe—the one carrying the four Ottawa warriors—had turned to shore. Sarah glanced at Black Eagle. This was it. It was only she, Marisa and he against a well-armed enemy. What was Black Eagle thinking? she wondered. Was he preparing himself mentally and physically for what was to come?
But what if the confrontation never came? After all, it was possible that the enemy might examine the silver cup that lay next to the shore, the one that had obviously caught their attention, and do no more than be happy with the treasure.
But even as she thought it, Sarah knew it would not be so. The obviously seasoned warriors were Indian; they would take witness of the tracks both she and Marisa had made when they had been washing up after their noonday meal. Indeed, with all the impressions that she and Marisa had left on the shoreline, their prints would lead the Ottawa warriors to them, and neither she, Black Eagle nor Marisa would be spared.
Meanwhile, Black Eagle was alert to the enemy.
“Sir Eagle!” It was Marisa speaking.
Briefly, Black Eagle swung around to look at her. Obviously he had not been expecting this turn of events. He looked incredulous. “Why are you not gone? ” he asked in a whisper. “I told you to leave.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but we cannot do so,” Marisa muttered, her voice quiet. “I fear that Mr. Thompson overpowered us before we had even attained our seats on the horses.”
“Where is Thompson now?”
“He rode away, taking the horses with him. But before he left, Sarah was able to secure these.” She held up her pistol. Sarah did the same.
“Do you know how to use those weapons?” he asked her.
Sarah and Marisa nodded in unison.
After a moment, Black Eagle ordered beneath his breath, “Both of you, move back behind me. Stay down. Fire only if you get a good shot, otherwise, do no more than watch. If I go down, do not fight the enemy. Yield to them. It is doubtful that they will kill you. Do you understand? Do nothing.”
Sarah nodded. Marisa did the same, and following Black Eagle’s orders, they each one backed away.
Panic was mounting within her, but oddly, now that the moment of confrontation had arrived, Sarah felt a strange calm come over her. She positioned herself for a good shot, checked her powder and took aim.
Meanwhile, the canoe slid silently to shore. Sarah watched as the warriors disembarked in the water, keeping themselves low. Slowly, quietly, they brought their canoe farther inland, anchoring it on the rocks lining the shore.
Stepping onto the ground, one of the warriors bent down, examining the tracks over the rocks. Another warrior crept forward toward the bushes, where Black Eagle, Sarah and Marisa were hiding. The two other warriors were sneaking toward the item that had gained their attention: the silver dish. Black Eagle waited with what appeared to be great patience, until the warrior who was stealing toward the bushes was almost upon him. Then crying out, he jumped up, the savage attack and the element of surprise in his favor. The ploy worked, but only for a fraction of a second. Still it was enough: Black Eagle thrust his tomahawk into the warrior’s neck.
However, with the first war cry, the three other Ottawa warriors went instantly into action. Black Eagle was ready for them. With musket in his left hand, he fired a shot toward one of them. An almost instant scream followed, and another warrior hit the ground.
Without pause, Black Eagle shot forward toward the other two warriors. They were prepared, muskets ready.
What they didn’t know was that Sarah had taken aim toward them. She dare not miss. She fired. It was a good shot. Another one of the warriors fell.
Unfortunately, Black Eagle hadn’t waited to see if the shot made its mark. Instead, he hurled himself toward the remaining warrior. The Ottawa was ready for him, and thrust out at Black Eagle with his tomahawk.
Marisa gasped, for it was a deadly joust but Black Eagle was agile and quick. He threw himself down, turning a somersault underneath the man’s arm. Coming up on the other side of the man, and with a backhand, Black Eagle rammed his tomahawk into the back of his opponent. The warrior was thrown off balance. Regaining his feet, Black Eagle finished the job. Using his hatchet, he landed a disabling blow into the warrior’s arm.
Still, the Ottawa was standing; taking hold of his tomahawk, Black Eagle dealt the man a clean blow to his chest. That finished it. The Ottawa went down.
But it seemed the ordeal wasn’t over. Already, Black Eagle was shouting at the two women.
“Come!” He pointed toward the lake. “Do you see? Their friends have come back to investigate. Hurry to the canoe. We’ll take our chances on the water.”
Both Sarah and Marisa jumped instantly to their feet. Springing out of the bushes, they made a line to the canoe. Black Eagle had already set the boat out into the lake and both women hurriedly splashed toward it.
By this time, Black Eagle was waist deep in the water and shouting, “Get in. Pick up a paddle.”
Already, shots from the oncoming canoe were hitting the water around them, the barrage a deadly reminder of what was to be if they three didn’t escape. Sarah plopped herself into a seat and reached out to help Marisa. But Marisa needed little assistance. She, too, was already seated. Quickly they each picked up a paddle and had no more than set them in the water when the oddest thing happened.
Thompson suddenly reappeared, splashing his way toward them. Sarah reached toward Marisa’s weapon, for Sarah had already fired off her one shot.
But Marisa stayed her hand. She said, “Maybe he has come to his senses and will help us.”
“I fear your heart is too kind!” exclaimed Sarah over the noise of the water and the oncoming enemy. However, Sarah hesitated.
Meanwhile, Thompson had pulled himself up alongside the canoe, and he plopped himself into it. He even picked up a paddle. Maybe she was wrong, thought Sarah. Amidst all the adversity, perhaps the man had changed the color of his stripes.
“Let’s get out of here!” Thompson yelled, and Black Eagle didn’t argue. Hoisting himself up into the boat and settling his paddle into the water, Black Eagle guided the boat out into the deepest part of the lake, heading west, away from the enemy, but in the direction of a sound that had Sarah’s heartbeat picking up such speed that she could feel it in her throat.
It was a waterfall, and from the sound of it, a large one. Was this their only advantage?
Perhaps it was so, for they were outnumbered. In a fight, it would be the two men against four of the enemy, two French, two Ottawa. Worse, Thompson was an obvious traitor whose actions could not be trusted. Still, now that he was back among them, it was Thompson’s neck as well as their own.
“Faster!” yelled Black Eagle.
Arrows, aimed at their speeding canoe, hit the water beside them with deadly force. Marisa’s paddle hit the water at an angle, causing her to tip dangerously toward the water. Sarah threw down her paddle and pulled Marisa back against her with one arm while she gripped the side of wet canoe with her other; though her fingers slipped, Sarah held on fast.
As she nestled Marisa into her arms, the two women sat silently in the canoe, riding out the jerks and sways of the boat.
The scent of Thompson’s unwashed body assailed Sarah, causing her to wonder that a human being could emit such odor. Why was Mr. Thompson back? she wondered. And though she feared it was for no good, Sarah held her tongue.
“Faster!” Black Eagle yelled again.
Behind them the French and Ottawa kept up a steady stream of fire, the arrows landing dangerously close. It was impossible. The odds were against Black Eagle. And yet, he must escape. They all must. If they didn’t get away …
How had they gotten themselves into this? Suddenly the idea of journeying to New Hampshire to visit friends seemed a bad idea indeed. Was it only minutes ago—perhaps no more than thirty—when Sarah and her ward had been seated beside the lake, calmly washing up after their noonday meal? It seemed hours ago.
But that was when they had first caught a glimpse of the enemy. Had it not been for the silver dish that she had left at the water’s edge, the enemy might have passed them by. But it was not to be.
The Ottawa
had
spotted the dish. They
had
investigated. And now, because of her own error, she had taken another’s life.
The killing of another human being was not an action to be entered into lightly. But it had been kill or be killed. Ultimately for her, there was no going back now.
The sound of rushing water, of the pounding roar of the waterfall, drowned out her thoughts. Indeed, she could now see the danger. Rapids. Surely Black Eagle wasn’t thinking of braving the rapids, was he?
Instinctively, Sarah leaned toward the shoreline, as though by sheer inclination alone she might steer the boat in that direction. An arrow hit at the water, scraping her hand. Close; much too close. Perhaps the rapids were their only means of escape after all. Black Eagle must be thinking so, for he was steering their canoe directly toward the source of that noise.