Chapter 16
August 24th, Sorel Islands, midday meal.
"Father, you must let me go. If I am returned to Philadelphia, I will hang. You have to let me go!" Henry Hartford pleaded yet again.
Daniel and Mingo canoed hard to reach Trois-Rivières in only a day and a half. Rain Cloud and Jean-Marie took the slack some of the time, but mostly they kept watch for British followers. Henry was tied, gagged with a bandana, thrown in the bottom of the Huron canoe.
Mingo had watched Henry's climb three days before. He let him walk for about 20 minutes and then used the handle of his knife to knock him out. Mingo carried him back to camp on his shoulder, refusing anyone's help.
His friends understood.
Rain Cloud built a sturdy travois to carry the unconscious officer to Cap Rouge. He let the white men carry it, following behind them erasing any tracks. Mingo hurried ahead.
As soon as they reached Trois-Rivières, they found Mathurin on guard duty on the small dock. He quickly brought them to a cabin nearby.
Thomas and Colonel Hartford, alongside a dozen or so American patriots, were waiting. Colonel Hartford's face was impassive as his son was delivered to him. Not a word left his mouth. He refused to acknowledge anything his son said.
They left immediately, in six small canoes. The rapids at Sorel were risky, and everyone knew there would be a long, dangerous trek before they were safely home.
There was no friendly contact in Sorel. They did not bother to make camp, simply cooked some fish and took a few precious moments to eat.
Mingo rose and gagged Henry again. Henry had eaten and drunk enough to last him awhile. Mingo and Henry did not exchange a word. Not even a glance passed between them. It was as if Henry was unknown to Mingo. Daniel made no comment, for he knew that under the mask of calm control Mingo showed the world, his Cherokee friend was deeply troubled.
As Mingo lifted his long arms above his head to stretch sore muscles, his eyes met Colonel Hartford's stare. Mingo saw deception and sadness, treason and betrayal. The Colonel looked at Mingo severely. This Indian was half-white. He was half-British. He was the heir to a title and land in England, yet he had turned his back on it. In a strange way, he was also a traitor. He also betrayed his father's beliefs and values, discarding them. The Colonel wondered if it had it been easy for this Indian to throw away such a legacy, to turn his back on his father.
The Colonel looked at his own son: he had sent him alone as a child to England, a child who would never see or kiss his mother ever again, in order to receive a fine education and be the best American possible. He allowed Henry to be guided by a man who had shown him a legacy and Henry had been blinded by this legacy.
How could two men, raised almost together, with the same values, turn out so differently? Both turned their backs on their fathers. Both had taken root and heart in their mothers' legacy instead.
He would see his son hang for treason.
And his heart bled for it.