The Forge in the Forest. Roberts Charles G. D.

with a start, and at the same instant heard a high, plangent voice, close beside us, crying slowly: —

      "Woe, woe to Acadie the Fair, for the day of her desolation cometh."

      It was an astonishing figure upon which my eyes fell, – a figure which might have been grotesque, but was not. Instead of laughing, my heart thrilled with a kind of awe. The man was not old, – his frame was erect and strong with manhood; but the long hair hanging about his neck was white, the long beard streaming upon his half-naked breast was white. He wore leathern breeches, and the upper portion of his body was covered only by a cloak of coarse woollen stuff, woven in a staring pattern of black and yellow. On his head was a rimless cap of plaited straw, with a high, pointed crown; and this was stuck full of gaudy flowers and feathers. From the point of the crown rose the stump of what had been, belike, a spray of goldenrod, broken by a hasty journeying through the obstructions of the forest. The man's eyes, of a wild and flaming blue, fixed themselves on mine. In one hand he carried a white stick, with a grotesque carven head, dyed scarlet, which he pointed straight at me.

      "Do you lie down, like cows that chew the cud, when the wolves are on the trail?" demanded that plangent voice.

      "It's Grûl!" cried Tamin, springing to his feet and thrusting a piece of black bread into the stranger's hand.

      But the offering was thrust aside, while those wide eyes flamed yet more wildly upon me.

      "They are on the trail, I tell you!" he repeated. "I hear their feet even now! Go! Run! Fly!" and he stooped, with an ear toward the ground.

      "But which way should we fly?" I asked, half in doubt whether his warning should be heeded or derided. I could see that neither Marc nor Tamin had any such doubts. They were on the strain to be off, and only awaited my word.

      "Go up the brook," said he, in a lower voice. "The first small stream on your left hand, turn up that a little way, and so – for the wolves shall this time be balked. But the black wolf's teeth bite deep. They shall bite upon the throats of the people!" he continued, his voice rising keenly, his white staff, with its grinning scarlet head, waving in strange, intricate curves. We were already off, making at almost full speed up the brook. Glancing back, I saw the fantastic form running to and fro over the ground where we had lain; and when the trees hid him we heard those ominous words wailed slowly over and over with the reiterance of a tolling bell: —

      "Woe, woe for Acadie the Fair, for the day of her desolation cometh!"

      "He'll throw them off the trail!" said Tamin, confidently.

      "But how did they ever get on it?" queried Marc.

      "'Tis plain that they have seen or heard us as we passed the strip of beach!" said I, in deep vexation, for I hated to be overreached by any one in woodcraft. "If we outwit them now, it's no thanks to my tactics, but only to that generous and astonishing madman. You both seemed to know him. Who, in the name of all the saints, might he be? What was it you called him, Tamin?"

      "Grûl!" replied Tamin; and said no more, discreetly husbanding his wind. But Marc spoke for him.

      "I have heard him called no other name but Grûl! Madman he is, at times, I think. But sane for the most part, and with some touches of a wisdom beyond the wisdom of men. The guise of madness he wears always; and the Indians, as well as our own people, reverence him mightily. It is nigh upon three years since he first appeared in Acadie. He hates the Black Abbé, – who, they say, once did him some great mischief in some other land than this, – and his strange ravings, his prodigious prophesyings, do something here and there to weaken the Abbé's influence with our people."

      "Then how does he evade the good father's wrath?" I questioned, in wonder.

      "Oh," said Marc, "the good father hates him cordially enough. But the Indians could not be persuaded, or bullied, or bribed, to lift a hand against him. They say a Manitou dwells in him."

      "Maybe they're not far wrong!" grunted Tamin.

      And now I, like Tamin, found it prudent to spare my wind. But Marc, whose lungs seemed untiring, spoke from time to time as he went, and told me certain incidents, now of Grûl's acuteness, now of his gift of prophecy, now of his fantastic madness. We came at length, after passing two small rivulets on the right, to the stream on the left which Grûl had indicated. It had a firm bed, wherein our footsteps left no trace, and we ascended it for perhaps a mile, by many windings. Then, with crafty care, we crept up from the stream, in such a fashion as to leave no mark of our divergence if, as I thought not likely, our pursuers should come that way. After that we fetched a great circuit, crossed the parent brook, and shortly before noon judged that we might account ourselves secure. Where a tiny spring bubbled beneath a granite boulder and trickled away north toward the Fundy shore, we stopped to munch black bread and the remnant of the fish. We rested for an hour, – Tamin and I sleeping, while Marc, who protested that he felt no motion toward slumber, kept watch. When he roused us, we set off pleasantly refreshed, our faces toward Shulie.

      Till late that night we journeyed, having a clear moon to guide us. Coming at length to the edge of a small lake set with islands, "Here," said I, "is the place where we may sleep secure!"

      We stripped, took our bundles on our heads, and swam out into the shining stillness. We swam past two islets, and landed upon one which caught my fancy. There we lay down in a bed of sweet-smelling fern, and were well content. As we supped on Tamin's good black bread, two loons laughed to each other out on the silver surface. We saw their black, watchful heads, moving slowly. Then we slept. It was high day when we awoke. The bread was now scarce, so we husbanded it, and made such good speed all day that while it wanted yet some hours of sunset we came out upon a bluff's edge and saw below us the wash and roll of Fundy. We were some way west of Shulie, but not far, Tamin said, from the house of his good friend with the good boat.