, Wanena, who had seen Du Lhut
at the trading post and had felt the stir of a generous sentiment toward
him, appeared before the prisoners when sleep was heaviest in the camp,
cut their bonds, led them by an obscure path to the river, where she
enjoined them to enter a canoe, and guided the boat to the Holy Isle.
This was where the Ojibways came to lay offerings before the image of
Manitou, whose home was there believed to be. There the friendly red men
would be sure to find and rescue them, she thought, and after a few hours
of sleep she led them into a secluded glen where stood the figure rudely
carved from a pine trunk, six feet high, and tricked with gewgaws. As
they stood there, stealthy steps were heard, and before they could
conceal themselves White Otter and eight of his men were upon them. Du
Lhut grasped a club from among the weapons that--with other
offerings--strewed the earth at the statue's feet and prepared to sell
his life dearly. The priest drew forth his crucifix and prayed. The girl
dropped to the ground, drew her blanket over her head, and began to sing
her death-song.
"So the black-coat and the woman-stealer have come to die before the
Indian's god?" sneered the chief.
"If it be God's will, we will die defying your god and you," replied
Marquette. "Yet we fear not death, and if God willed he could deliver us
as easily as he could destroy that worthless image." He spoke in an
undertone to Du Lhut, and continued, confidently, "challenge your god to
withstand mine. I shall pray my God to send his fire from the sky and
burn this thing. If he does so will you set us free and become a
Christian?"
"I will; but if you fail, you die."
"And if I win you must pardon your daughter."
White Otter grunted his assent.
The sun was high and brought spicy odors from the wood; an insect hummed
drowsily, and a bird-song echoed from the distance. Unconscious of what
was being enacted about her, Wanena kept rocking to and fro, singing her
death-song, and waiting the blow that would stretch her at her father's
feet. The savages gathered around the image and watched it with eager
interest. Raising his crucifix with a commanding gesture, the priest
strode close to the effigy, and in a loud voice cried, in Chippewa, "In
the name of God, I command fire to destroy this idol!"
A spot of light danced upon the breast of the image. It grew dazzling
bright and steady. Then a smoke began to curl from the dry grass and
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