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Updated: May 9, 2025
I made my slow way around the bound figures. Some were pegged to the ground by their out-stretched hands and feet, and some were stretched on crosses. But all were Indians. I saw more Miamis, a few Kickapoos, and some whom I did not know; I learned later that they were Mascoutens. And then I saw Labarthe. He was tied to a tree, Leclerc beside him.
What would it matter to this second individual if that vile Pascal should boast of having stolen a march on the most delicate, the most powerful of the heirs of Balzac, since I, the new Labarthe, was capable of looking forward to an operation which required about as much delicacy as some of the performances of my editor-in-chief?
So they tortured Indian captives while they let me, a Frenchman, go lightly bound. Well, my turn was yet to come. My white skin probably gave me importance enough so that I would be referred to the council. I would not look ahead. I would plan for the moment, and open eyes and ears. There were many captives, I saw now, and my anxiety for Leclerc and Labarthe grew keen.
She looked over the heads of the lines of soldiers and grew white to the lips. I knew that she saw rows of scalps, and I could not save her from it. Yet I implored. "Do not think of it. It is all over, madame." Her eyes came back to me. "And Pierre? Is Pierre safe?" "Madame, he He died saving me." Her hands grasped me harder. "And Labarthe?" "I am all that is left, madame." Still she held to me.
But where were Pemaou, and Starling, and the woman? Labarthe made his way near, and stood with his back toward me. I remembered a roundelay that we had sung in camp. I whistled it, picking, in the meantime, at the bone the Indian had brought. I whistled the tune once, twice, several times. Then I fitted words to it. "Where is the woman? Where is the Englishman? Tell me."
Up to that time we had been left to the guardianship of all the camp, but the second day I saw that the huge brave to whom I was tied at night followed me incessantly. I watched, and saw that my men had similar attendants. This was a gain, as I said to Labarthe. I did not try to have connected speech with the men, but by saying a word at a time as we passed we could patch together a few sentences.
Leclerc, who was ever a fool, would have motioned to me, but Labarthe struck down his arm and gave a blank stare. So I was able to get near them. They looked blood-stained and jaded, but practically unhurt, and I saw a half-eaten chunk of meat in Leclerc's hand. They had been fed and reasonably well treated. But that meant nothing as guide to what might come. I had not made my way alone.
"Pierre, you are to stay here. You are to keep near the Seneca camp to help Labarthe and Leclerc. If they escape, go, all of you, to our camp on Sturgeon Cove and guard the stores till I send you word. You understand?" "But the master is sick. I go with him." "You stay here." "I go with the master." "I will not allow it." "Then I follow behind." "You have no canoe, no provision." "I have legs.
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