Chapter Eleventh.
The storm subsides. Search for winter quarters. Strange Discoveries. Works of the Lost People. Their search among the Ruins. Walls, roads, and buildings found. Their state of Preservation. The Wanderers decide upon selecting a place to spend the winter in. They prepare to locate themselves. Hunting deer and other Game. They find abundance of fruit. A salt spring. Their joy at their discoveries.
The next morning the storm had passed over, and the sun arose bright and clear upon our wanderers, who felt relieved as they found Sidney much improved, though yet quite ill, but in a fair way to be able, in a few days, to be on his feet again. Making everything as secure as possible for those they left behind, the chief and Howe set out to visit the spot where the chief earnestly desired their cabin should be located. When arrived at the spot, Howe was not surprised at the enthusiasm of the chief; and was astonished at the loveliness, as well as the strangeness of the whole landscape that lay before him. Penetrating the alluring wood before them half a mile further, the scene still retaining its strange beauty, they came to a stream with an artificial embankment, built of stone, cemented, five feet high from the river's bed, and running up and down the stream as far as they could see in the distance.
"The work of the lost people!" said the chief, endeavouring to displace some stones from their artificial bed, but which resisted all his efforts.
"This does look as though civilized people had lived here," said the trapper. "This wall has been built to confine the water to its channel, in times of heavy rains, so that it shall not inundate the plain. Probably, these strange fruit trees are the seed of some brought here from other regions by those builders which have planted themselves, flourished, grown, and outlived all the changes that time has wrought."
"My forefathers have a tradition that it was a strong people that built these things, more cunning and powerful than the white man, until the Great Spirit became angry with them, and then they dried up like the grass on the prairie when there is no rain; for, who is there that dare brave him without being consumed with his anger?"
"We will go down to that copse yonder," said the trapper. "If I am not mistaken, there is more than trees there."
"An herd of deer, perhaps," said the chief, preparing his bow for action.
"I think not, unless deer are grey, and of inordinate proportions. From here, it looks like piles of stone. Perhaps more of the work of those who curbed these waters," said Howe.
As they drew near, large blocks of stone, squared and smoothly hewn, lay in their path, and covered the ground around them. Crossing over these, they came to a range of grey stone, that had the appearance of once having been a high building, but which was now thrown down, and tumbled into a shapeless mass. To the right of these stones they saw a small square enclosure, strongly built of grey hewn stone, and the joints fitted with a precision that would do credit to a stone-cutter in our day. Every layer was strongly cemented with a composition that seemed to have amalgamated with the stone, for on striking it with the tomahawk, it did not even chip off, but gave back a ringing sound, like the hardest granite. One thing they noticed was very singular, both in the wall of this enclosure and in that by the river. The cement in which it was laid was much darker than the stone, being almost black, while the fallen building which they first came to was laid in a white cement, quite like, in appearance, our own.
Going around this enclosure they were astonished to find that they were in a city in ruins. Before them lay whole squares of shapeless masses, overgrown with trees and shrubs, but the perfect regularity of the form and finish of the blocks of stone, of which they had been composed, with the mortar in which they had been laid still clinging to them, were sufficient to convince them that they had once been buildings of more than ordinary proportions and finish.
They attempted to force their way over this irregular pile of rubbish; but found it a dangerous undertaking, as the blocks on which they placed their feet yielded to their weight, and slipping from their beds, threw them on the sharp edges of the stones—a proceeding they did not at all relish. After receiving three or four such falls apiece, and preferring the longer route as the safest, they started to go around it, in order to investigate the forest beyond as they caught a glimpse of some buildings still standing, through the leaves, that hid the main structure from sight.
Taking their way around the western side of the obstruction, they came to a long wide avenue, on which nothing but moss and small dwarf shrubs grew, and which was perfectly smooth and level.
"This is singular," said the trapper. "I wonder why it is not overgrown like the rest?"
"Perhaps it is a road," said the chief. "Sometimes they covered their highways with stones, and laid them so close together, that a tree could not take root in them."
"Did you ever meet with one?" asked the trapper.
"No: but tradition speaks of them, as once having been quite common. We can soon see whether this is one by scraping away the leaves and dirt that have accumulated over it." So saying, he commenced digging away the accumulated earth, which was no easy task, as the rain the night before had saturated the surface, making it adhere tenaciously to whatever it came in contact with. Scraping away about four inches in depth of forest mould, they came to a layer of stone blocks, the only one which they laid bare being twelve feet long, and eight wide, the thickness of which they could not ascertain, as it was so closely fitted to the adjoining one, that the blade of a knife could not be inserted between them.
Following this avenue, it led them around a graceful curve for half a mile, and there terminated at a flight of stone steps, which ascending, they found themselves on a high elevation of earth, that contained as near as they could calculate, about five acres of ground, in the centre of which, on another elevation of about half an acre, which was also mounted by stone steps, stood a large imposing structure, still magnificent in its ruins. This building they found likewise laid with the dark cement, as indeed all the buildings were which they found standing. The ingenuity of man had cheated time of its prey.
Entering this pile, they were struck with awe at the evident symmetry and beauty that had once reigned within, for though time had accumulated mould and moss over its walls, and covered its floors to a depth of several inches with earth made up of dust and leaves that had penetrated its open doors and windows; yet the walls themselves were there, heavy blocks of granite in an iron-like cement that bound them in place, perchance for a thousand years that have gone, and bid fair to withstand the ravages of time for ages to come.
"Here," said the chief, "is a big house already built, which we can winter in. It will save us the trouble of building, and be more secure than anything we could make."
"Well," said the trapper, "I guess, by the trouble they took to put it up here, that it was a palace or a temple. In either case, they had it built a little tasty, and we will acknowledge the merit due them by preferring it to any other."
"There is the forest full of fruits and nuts," said the chief, waving his hand towards it, "and if we winter here, we must gather them in before the rains come. The leaves are thickening on the ground, and when another moon is spent, the rains will fall and the winds come down from the north."
"You are right, chief. It is our place to make due preparation against hunger and cold, for all the year roots, berries, and game cannot be then as easily obtained as now. The sun is at the meridian, and they will be alarmed at the cabin, if we do not return soon. But, we will be here in the morning again, and clear out some of this rubbish, so that we can take up our abode here as soon as Sidney can be moved, and then we will devote our time in preparing for every contingency in our power."
Following the avenue out until it was obstructed by rubbish, they turned in the direction they knew their cabin lay. After proceeding twenty rods through the lovely grove, with fruit trees blending with the growth of the forest, they came to a small stone structure not more than twenty feet square, nor eight high, in perfect preservation. It had no floor, but in the centre bubbled up a jet of transparent water, while all around its edges, and even on the side of the wall, as well as over head it was encrusted with a white substance as though spray had congealed over it.
"What a new wonder!" cried the trapper, "really I don't think they will ever cease, for this excels them all. I would like to know if that is really water."
"Perhaps it is the burning water," said the chief, "dip your hand in and taste it."
"Salt! a salt spring!" cried the delighted trapper, on placing a drop of the water on his tongue. No wonder it caused a sudden excitement and great joy; for it was months that they had been without it, and it was a privation under which they had suffered greatly, as its loss made many a dish unpalatable that otherwise would have had a fine relish.
"The Great Spirit has led us here, and will finally deliver us from our wanderings," said the chief, who was equally as well pleased, but it was not his nature to make any extravagant exhibition of passion.
"Well, chief, the Great Spirit has our thanks, for this last blessing. It is a gift of great value in our isolated position," said the trapper.
On arriving at the cabin, they found them all safe, but suffering from great anxiety at their prolonged absence, which fled on their return in safety, their arms laden with the fruits they had gathered, the quality of which they desired to test. The children listened with wonder at what they heard in regard to the discoveries, it sounded so like a fairy tale, and when assured that it was all really there as described, and that they should see it themselves within a few days, they seemed to forget their forlorn condition in the pleasure it afforded them.
The crusted salt they had gathered, gave them more real pleasure at their dinner that day than is often experienced in many a life time—a pleasure, satisfaction and joy that they could never have enjoyed, had they not been deprived of it so entirely as they had been.
Here we might moralize if we had the room, but moralizing is out of the question. We have a history, a complication of incidents to relate that caused certain effects to develope themselves, and it is our only aim to cause others to moralize—to lead inquiring minds into certain directions by revealing something of the heretofore unwritten past.
The next morning Howe and the chief returned to the temple, as they called the building on the elevation, and scraping the accumulated mass of rubbish from the floor swept it with a broom made by tying the twigs of hemlock on a long stick. A rude broom enough, but one often used as far east as the new settlements in Pennsylvania to this day. When this was done, they found the floor covered by a slippery black mould that could not be swept off, and which they would have to remove by scrubbing. Here was a new dilemma. They had no bucket in which to bring water from the river, and their gourds would not hold over a quart each, which would make the task of bringing it from such a distance almost an endless job.
"We must do it," said the trapper. "This is a little too much filth for civilized people. We can bring each four gourds full at a time which will do something towards it. If we could turn the river into it we could clear out the shell of its filth in a very short time."
"Perhaps," said the chief, "we can find something to bring water in if we hunt over the big house."
"Not worth while now, chief: wait until the children are with us and then we will go over it; at present our business is to make one room habitable."
So saying they set out towards the river for a supply of water; but on descending the first elevation at the side on which the building stood, the chief, when partly down, placed his foot into a trough-like duct, running parallel with the elevation which was filled with leaves so as to obscure the sight of the water until it penetrated his moccasin.
"Water plenty!" cried the chief, drawing his foot from the unexpected bath, and then commenced clearing the place from the leaves and earth with which it was partially filled. They soon found it was an artificial duct about one foot deep and two feet wide, built of the same kind of grey stone as the rest of the ruins around, and still supplied with water. They went on clearing it of rubbish in order to see how far it extended; but after removing it a few rods they became weary, and filling their gourds, hastened to finish their renovating task.
That night they found Sidney up and cheerful, insisting he was quite well enough to be removed. Howe would not venture it, but insisted on waiting a few days more, during which he and the chief spent the time making couches in the temple for their accommodation, and hunting, in which sport he was very successful, having killed a number of deer, turkeys, and mountain sheep. In searching for game they rarely attempted to take any other than those whose skin would be valuable to them as well as the meat, owing to their anxiety to secure as many skins as possible while game was plenty, as skins and furs were all they had to rely on as covering for their beds and for clothing.
Chapter Twelfth.
Astonishment of the Children. The Antiquity of the Ruins. Preparations for making the temple their quarters. Building a chimney to their house. The Chief's contentment. He asks to marry Jane. Sidney's anger. Strange discoveries. Set out on a hunting expedition. Discovery of wild horses. The chief captures a colt. He presents it to Jane. The winter sets in. A series of storms prevails. A deer hunt. They discover an Indian woman and her papoose. They take her into camp and provide for her. Her inexpressible thanks for her deliverance.
The children were filled with wonder and astonishment at the magnificence as well as the evident antiquity of the ruins, and spent many days of actual pleasure wandering among them. They had read of similar remains having been found in Europe; but these were rendered vague in outline by distance, and meagre in description by their utter impossibility to comprehend the actual appearance of things, the like of which they had never seen. These were more tangible. They saw and felt them; ascended and descended the symmetrical steps; ran their fingers along the seams of wonderful cement that bound the pile in its place like ribs of iron; drank water from a duct where a thousand years ago others had drank, but of what nation, race or name they knew not. Oblivion with her sombre mantle had closed over them, to remain, until a mind capable of grasping the past shall arise, and with its giant intellect give back the forgotten alphabet—the key that shall open to us the rise, progress and fall of a nation, the relics of whose once powerful but unknown people may be found over the whole continent.
They covered the floor of the room they had cleared with dried skins, laying them with the hairy side up, thus making a comfortable carpet; large blocks of stone were piled at intervals around the rooms for seats, and these were also covered with soft skins, making very passable but immovable seats. A table was built by setting four blocks of stone up endwise in the centre of the room and laying one large, smooth, thin slab on its top, around which were placed five movable seats to be used while eating.
What annoyed them greatly was, there was no way of warming the room, and as the weather now was becoming cold, they found it a great discomfort, as the sun could not penetrate the thick stone walls to dry the dampness that gathered on them. They were quite puzzled to know how they were to be comfortable in that place without a fire, there being no place in which to build one. There were two windows that extended from the floor five feet, up which, probably, had been frames, that were once filled with some perishable material, but of which not a vestige now remained. These openings they always closed at night by hanging skins before them, which were taken down in the morning to let the light in. The door-way that led into the room, was entirely destitute of any vestige of a door, although they found grooves cut in the blocks of stone that ran along the side on which a door had been hung. This door-way opened into a long hall, that ran through the house from the front portal to the back—the doors that led into the four rooms of which the temple was composed, opening on the inside. This hall, which was truly a magnificent one, was thirty-five feet wide, and fifty long, forty feet high, tapering towards the centre overhead, in a lofty dome.
"We must have a fire," said the trapper, one morning, after an unusually frosty night. "This is too cold. Can't we build one in the hall, chief?"
"The smoke will suffocate us; we could not stay in doors with it," said Whirlwind.
"Why don't you build it in one of the windows? the smoke could then go out, while much of the heat would come in," said Edward.
"Better yet," said Sidney: "build a chimney by one of the windows, then all the smoke will go out, and all the heat come in."
"You have it exactly," said the trapper. "I wonder we did not think of it before. What say you, chief—shall we have the chimney?"
The chief, not only assenting, but entering with alacrity into the project, the whole party went to work to collect the material, of which there was plenty, but as the blocks were nearly all large ones that lay round them, they had to bring them from the mass of ruins by the river, which was of smaller material, and which they could handle to better advantage. They worked hard all that day, Sidney standing by quite uneasy, because they would not allow him to help. The next morning they mixed some mud and clay for mortar, and commenced laying up the chimney, and succeeded by night in finishing a very serviceable, though not a very beautiful one. They found, on building a fire in it, that it worked to a charm, filling the room with a genial warmth and cheerful light, while it carried away all the smoke.
They had gathered some twenty bushels of fruit, that tasted like our apples, but resembled a pear in shape and color, which was very hard and tough, not fit to eat then, but which, the chief said, would be good in midwinter. They had taken the precaution to gather them by his advice—he having made some large baskets of the pliable twigs of willow, in which they were conveyed from the trees to the temple, where they were deposited in the room they occupied.
"The fire will injure them," said the chief. "We must put them in another room in order to save them."
"There is one adjoining us, that opens like ours from the hall. We can clear out that as we did this, and make it a store house. We shall need some place to keep our fruit and nuts in, which it is time now to gather, and also our dried venison," said the trapper. "It is best to make ourselves as comfortable as we can while here, for as the winter will soon be on us, nothing but an especial providence can get us out of the scrape we are in, until the weather is warm enough for us to travel again."
"I am the cause of your wintering here. If it had not been for me, you would all have been home now, instead of being, we don't know where," said Sidney, who was often gloomy in his weakened state.
"Perhaps we should, and then, perhaps, we might have wandered into a worse place. Indeed, we ought to be thankful for the shelter and fruits we have found. I hardly think many that are carried away by savages, escape as well as we have, and then find such winter quarters," said Jane, glancing complacently round the room, for, to tell the truth, she felt a sort of pride in the ample blazing fire, soft skin-carpeted floor, numerous seats, with gay colored skins thrown over them, and their couches, on which they slept, neatly spread over with skins, while at one corner, in a little nook screened from view by skins joined together and hung around, was a couch appropriated to her own use, covered with the finest furs they had taken—for the trapper had set his snares from the first day of their abode there, and their store of furs and skins was fast accumulating.
"We are here, that is a fact that cannot be doubted," said the trapper, "and if I knew the way out, and had my rifle, ammunition, a supply of hounds and traps with me, I would not leave it until spring, if I could, for the whole valley is filled with the right kind of game. There is a beaver dam a mile down the stream, which contains some of the finest coated fellows I ever saw. I have got some more there, and will show fur that is fur, or else I will give you leave to call me no trapper."
"What matters it whether we are in one part of the forest or another?" said the chief, addressing Howe. "We have lost our home, now we have made one, even better in some respects than the red man ever has. The hunting ground is good—then let us be contented to live here. Whirlwind is a warrior; he has taken the scalp from his enemies in battle—he is a chief; he has led his warriors to victory. Let the white chief give him the antelope for his squaw, and he will no more go out to battle; but remain here, where the Great Spirit has led him, and spend his days in filling his wigwam with the softest furs, best fish and venison in the forest, and the antelope's life shall be happy as the singing bird, and bright as the sun.'
"Why, Jane, what does this mean?" asked Edward, bursting into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, that awoke the echoes from the venerable pile that had slept through a long list of ages. But Jane did not know herself what it meant, as the expression of blank astonishment on her face amply testified. But Sidney for one, knew precisely the meaning of it, and with flashing eyes and clenched hand, he limped to the side of the chief, with a threatening attitude. Howe saw the material he had to deal with, and thought it best to interfere to prevent ill-feeling, as well as to get such an idea out of the chief's head.
"When Jane has grown up she can speak for herself. The white men do not give away their maidens: when they are old enough they select for themselves."
"Whirlwind can wait," said the chief complacently.
Jane turned her head, and placed her hand over her mouth to keep down the smile that would come, as her eye caught her uncle's grave countenance, for he saw at a glance it would now require all his tact to undeceive him, in regard to the possibility of such a union, and yet retain his friendship. Sidney would have had the matter settled on the spot, but the trapper motioned him to keep silent, which he did, though his lips were compressed, and his looks angry and threatening.
"Come," said the trapper, cheerfully, "we will clear out the adjoining room, and take these apples from here, then we will be ready to gather in our nuts to-morrow.
"A disagreeable place this," said he, as he commenced scraping up the accumulated mass and throwing it out of the window.
"Probably, it is a long while since it was cleansed," said Jane. "A very singular place, and if we could get home safe at last, it would be worth a little trouble and privation to have seen it."
"Something new again: wonders will never cease," said the trapper, holding up a vessel of some kind of heavy material, oval at the bottom, and capable of containing some two gallons.
"It looks like a dinner kettle; but how could a dinner kettle get here?"
"You don't think the people that used to live here lived without eating, do you?" said Howe.
"Or, that they knew how to build houses like this, and did not know how to make a dinner pot."
The rest thought they must have known how to do so natural a thing, as the proof of it was before them, and then the question arose; could they use it themselves? "For, if we can," said Jane, "we can have such nice stews and soups."
"Which we can eat with asplit stick, as we do our meat, especially thesoup," said Edward.
"We can have some nice wooden spoons made for that," replied the trapper. "I really think the kettle can be put in a cookable order, by taking off a coat or two of rust."
"Here is another just like it," said the chief, dragging out a similar vessel.
"You see," said Howe, "the people must not only have eaten like civilized people, but had a good appetite, or we should not find so many vessels in one place."
The room being cleansed, the fruit and dried venison were removed from the warm room, and the next day they began to gather in their store of nuts. Butternuts, walnuts, and hickory nuts, were gathered in large quantities, as well as acorns which, when roasted, formed a delicious as well as nutritious food. Chestnuts were also gathered, as well as the pine knots; these last were mostly for the light they would give when burning, the only thing excepting their fire, which they were dependent on to illumine their house. The collection of these occupied them a number of days. Then the chief and Edward took the baskets, and went down the stream in search of yampa, a root much used for food by the Indians. This they found in abundance, about two miles distant, and collected a number of baskets full of it.
When these precautionary measures were completed, they felt a security and satisfaction about them which they had not felt before. The fact of their being lost was shorn of half its terrors. Their door was barricaded against the cold and starvation. Sidney had made up his mind it was his fate to have the worst of the trouble; for, weak in body, his arm still in a sling, he was unable to join in the busy preparations that the rest entered into with such a keen relish. This worried him; but not half as much as did the assiduous, delicate attention which the chief bestowed on Jane. Had the chief been hunting and procured game, it was laid at her feet; did he secure a bird of rare plumage, its plumes fantastically arranged, were modestly presented to her; and furs of rare softness and beauty in profusion adorned her apartment, at the request of the chief. Unwilling to offend, and as he had never spoken on the subject to her, she could do nothing but accept them with the best grace she could. She saw how it irritated Sidney, though she thought little of it after the moment, supposing his illness caused the irritation as much as the singular mode of winning favor pursued by the chief.
No buffalo had yet been seen in the valley, and the chief had more than once expressed his belief they could be found by following the open country down the valley a few miles. Making himself a strong lasso, and with hunting-knife, bow and arrows, and tomahawk, he set out one day, more for the sport than anything else. After proceeding about seven miles over a broad, heavily wooded valley without any signs of the desired game he began to think he was too far in the mountains from a prairie for them, and was about to retrace his steps when a rustling at a little distance attracted his attention. Going thither, as he approached, a wolf darted up from the spot, and with a few leaps was out of sight. The chief soon saw he had been feeding on a wild horse that had died of old age and looked as though it had lain there some days. However the sight seemed to excite him, and after marking the trees to designate his course, he closely scanned the tracks around and then started farther down the valley at a rapid pace.
After travelling some ten miles farther, he had the satisfaction to come up with the drove. They were not feeding, but some were laying down, others standing leisurely around, evidently unaware of the proximity of the chief, who divesting himself of all his weapons but the lasso, with exceeding caution crawled along the ground without rustling the leaves or branches until within throw of the nearest, which was a young brown colt of great beauty and graceful proportions.
Winding one end of the lasso around his wrist, he gently raised himself. The lasso whirled above the colt, and the next instant closed around its throat. The rest of the horses with a snort darted away, leaving the terrified colt plunging and rearing with the Indian who had sprung on its back, where he now clung with perfect security. Seeing its companions flying down the valley it too leaped away after them making fearful jumps over brooks and logs for many miles, every few minutes rearing and plunging in its mad endeavors to free itself from its burthen, until covered with foam and trembling in every limb it paused, and turning its head gazed wildly and terrified on the chief, who smoothed it gently as he spoke to it mildly, and then holding the lasso tight in his hand, slipped off its back. Feeling the burthen removed it attempted to escape, but being still held it was soon subdued and induced to follow the chief. The colt seemed to understand that it was a captive, for its manner became subdued and quiet under the hands of its captor who viewed its symmetrical proportions with the eye of a connoisseur. The chief actually laughed aloud at his success. He had now a horse, it was so like old times, and with this he could pursue the herd until he caught others, when he had it perfectly trained. Satisfied with his day's hunt, he followed the tracks of the herd back, sometimes riding, then again walking, as the fancy struck him, until he reached the temple about sunset, where he and his prize were greeted with every demonstration of joy.
With a grave, dignified countenance he led the colt to where Jane stood, and placing a halter, which he had tied around its neck in place of the lasso, in Jane's hand, he said:
"Whirlwind's gift to the antelope," and walking away left the young girl in possession of his noble love-token.
Puzzled and blushing at her awkward position. Jane turned to her uncle an imploring look, who amused and laughing, came forward and catching her by the arms, seated her on her prize.
"Ride her round a few minutes, the chief expects it," he whispered in her ear. Obeying him, she walked it back and forth before them a few times, then slipping off placed the halter in her uncle's hand.
"Here chief," said the trapper, "Jane is well pleased with your present and desires you to take good care of it for her, and will never be better pleased than when she sees you on its back."
The chief, with a gratified look, led away the colt, and fastening it to a sapling, took a skin from which he cut a long stout halter so that it could have the range of a few rods, and fastening it left it to feed on the wild grass and herbage around.
"Look here, uncle," said Sidney, as the chief walked away, "I wish I was dead or well, I don't particularly care which."
"Why, boy, what is in the wind now? Why the rest of us are trying to make out something good of a bad business, while you are fretting and fuming like a caged lion. Be easy, boy, and if you cannot be easy, do as we do, and be as easy as you can."
"It is well enough to say be easy, crippled, helpless, and obliged to eat of the things the rest of you bring in; to sit here all day long and be pitied, while that black rascal——"
"Hold! hold!—not another word like that," said the trapper, sternly. "We are too much indebted to as noble a heart as ever beat, for a return like this. What matters it, then, that his ways and complexion are not like ours? His father was my father's friend, as well as my own; and him I have known from earliest boyhood, and to this hour have never known him guilty of a mean or dishonest act."
"What greater, more dastardly act of meanness could he perpetrate, than stealing away the heart of that young girl, or are you so blind you cannot see through his manœuvring?"
"Sidney, you are not yourself to-night," said the trapper, "I am convinced of that, and I do wrong to chide you: sickness and suffering, toil and privation have unnerved you. When you are well, you will see things clearer than you do now. Come, I must take you in, the night dew is falling fast and cold around us. I see and know all that is going on, and understand the chief much better than you do. Trust in my management of the affair, and you will have no cause to complain at last, however appearances at times may be against you."
The chief was now as contented and happy as if he had never known other scenes than those that lay around him. The lodge, as he called their abode, was filled with fruit, venison, skins and furs; the antelope accepted his offering, and a half-tamed, high mettled colt was at his command, on which, sometimes for a whole day, he went dashing madly through the forest, a piece of hide around the colt's neck his only accoutrements. Then he was in his element and free, with the fresh mountain air fanning his dusky brow, infusing into his stalwart frame new life and vigor.
Snow now began to fall, and the fierce northern winds swept through the forests, creaking the leafless limbs of the trees as they swayed them to and fro, anon rending them in twain, and scattering the fragments over the white mantled earth. The wanderers now spent most of their time within the temple, by their glowing fire that blazed so cheerfully, the window and door closed tightly by skins, shutting out the cold air. Here they amused themselves in recounting past scenes, and strange wild legends with which they had become familiar. Without a written language, the Indian preserves his national and domestic history solely by oral instruction, handed down from father to son. Thus every tribe has its own legends, while many vague traditions of national history are peculiar to the whole of the North American Indians without regard to tribe.
They had been kept within the tent for many days by a series of storms, and their stock of fresh meats had become quite exhausted, when Howe and the chief announced their determination to go on a hunt for game. They could not take the colt, as in the deep snow it would make more trouble than it would be of service to them. Telling the children to be of good cheer, and keep up a good fire, they launched forth, protected from the cold by the thick, warm fur garments they had manufactured for themselves, and armed with their bows and arrows they had made also, they gaily took the way down the valley as the one where game was generally most abundant. A pair of partridges, a wild turkey, and an antelope, were soon brought down; but as it was early in the day, and they were only warmed in the sport, they hung these on a sapling, and proceeded on.
"I tell you what, chief," said the trapper, "I am in for a buck. They are never so fat and tender as now, and I intend to have the plumpest, nicest venison steak for supper there is in this forest, if I have to work for it. There are signs of them about, and a little further down we shall find where they have been browsing, if I am not mistaken."
"My brother is right," said the chief; "yonder they have passed, and their trail is still fresh in the snow. There are many of them, and our wigwam will again be full of fat venison. Hist, yonder they are; they will see us if we do not move with great caution. You take the circuit round that clump of spruce to the right, and I will keep farther down to the left."
Warily they made their way until within shot of them, when they discharged their arrows, and one fine doe selected by the chief, fell, shot through the heart. Howe was not so fortunate, he having selected a noble buck, who bounded away with the arrow sticking in his side, but from the quantity of blood that flowed from his wound, staining the snow, they knew he could not run far. Hanging up the doe after dressing it, they set out to recover the buck, which they expected to find dead not far off. In this they were mistaken: he led them many miles before he gave out, and by the time he was dressed, and they were ready for returning, the sun had passed the meridian.
They had not retraced their steps more than half a mile, when a wailing sound was faintly heard from a thicket a few rods distant. They paused in a listening attitude. Again came the sound like the wail of a young child.
"A panther," said Howe, "he wants some of our venison, perhaps a bite of us. Let us on or we shall have to fight."
Again it was heard now louder, and then followed a heavy sob and groan.
"No panther," said the chief throwing down his load and making for the thicket. Howe began to think so too, and was following, when the chief, with a cry of surprise, disappeared beneath in the thicket. Howe hastened forward, and there on the bare ground which she had cleared of snow lay a young squaw with a papoose but a few years old huddled in her arms which she was vainly endeavoring to shield from the cold. They were terribly emaciated, with the seal of gaunt famine in their sunken eyes and hollow cheeks. The mother's limbs were frost bitten and entirely benumbed with cold.
"Lost," said the chief; "she has been lost like us in these interminable wilds."
"We must save her," said the trapper. "Wrap her in that skin from the venison while I build a fire to warm her by and cook her some meat. Poor thing, she looks as though she was nearly dead with hunger and cold. She is human, see the tears in her eyes as she hugs that little thing closer in her arms. Bless me but it makes a child of me—poor thing! poor thing!"
Gathering some wood, the trapper soon had a large place cleared from snow, and a fire was quickly kindled, in the fierce heat of which some of their slices of steaks were held a few minutes then given to the famished woman. Eagerly seizing them she held one to the mouth of the child, when it seized it and commenced sucking the juicy food with great voracity, while the rest disappeared with a rapidity that astonished even the chief, who was so rarely astonished at anything.
"I would like to know who she is and where she came from," said Howe. "Ask her if you can make her understand."
But she could not understand them, nor could they her. She told them by signs that she had been wandering a long while and could not find her home, and begged them not to leave her there to die.
"That we will not, chief; you stay with the woman and I will take a load of venison home and return with the colt for the woman to ride on, for she is too weak to travel."
The squaw looked her thanks while she pressed her child to her bosom as if she would "say we shall still live perhaps to see home and kindred when the snows melt from the hills."
Chapter Thirteenth.
Jane's reception of the Indian woman. Whirlwind's indifference. Condition of the party. Sidney begins to use his broken arm. Their health. They cannot calculate the day nor month. The chief imagines he has found the locality of the Arapahoes hunting grounds. He becomes enamored of Jane. The party troubled about it. Howe explains his experience in love matters. A reconnoitre suggested. Edward joins them. Deer chased by a wild man. The chief lassoes him. A desperate struggle. The wild man captured and taken into camp. Things in the camp, &c.
The young mother and her babe received a warm welcome from Jane, whose tender heart ached as she scanned the half frozen, emaciated beings before her; and even repining Sidney was forced to acknowledge that his sufferings had been nothing in comparison to those the mother and babe had endured. A few weeks spent under the hands of their gentle nurse had a wonderful effect in their condition, and the babe, especially, had regained its infantile merriment, and played at rough and tumble on the soft skins before the fire like any other child of two years, as the squaw reckoned its age. It was very lively and frolicsome, and served to make merry many an hour that otherwise would have lagged heavily on their hands. Not so its mother; she had regained her strength, but no effort could bring back the smile to her lip or chase the look of sadness from her brow. She had, from the first, exhibited great signs of fear of the chief, and did she catch his eye resting on her she would hurriedly gather her child in her arms, and with a wild look of terror cower away into the corner of the room farthest from him she could get, and there sit murmuring in wailing tones to the babe nestling in her arms.
The chief, after the first day of her rescue, exhibited perfect indifference to her presence, and rarely gave her a glance; but they had noticed that when his eye did rest on her or the child it had a peculiar exulting savage glitter seen at no other times, for his eye usually had a mild expression, and they had known him to exhibit disinterested humane acts that set at defiance the supposition that he was devoid of sensibility.
This was a new phase in the character of the Indian, and one that highly amazed the young people. As for Howe, though he did sometimes open his eyes with wonder, it did not interest him, and he never spoke to them of the "by play" that was every day growing more interesting to the younger ones, and becoming a great torture to the young mother. Jane, who was daily becoming more and more attached to her guests, used every art in her power to inspire her with more confidence, and at the same time assure her of the kindness and friendship of the chief, but without success. She was equally silent as to what tribe she belonged; for, though she had learned to use many words correctly in expressing her wants, she never seemed to learn any to express the past with regard to herself, except that she was lost, and could not find her way home. Jane had made her and the babe clothing before she had recovered her strength; but, though it was as neatly done as that she herself wore, the squaw had, as soon as she was able to move around, taken some skins, and had manufactured a suit for herself and child, that was really pretty, so neatly was it done. This finished, she made one also for Jane, presenting it to her with gestures of gratitude for the kindness she and her babe had received at her benefactress' hands.
Jane looked really much better when adorned in the handiwork of the young squaw, than she did in her own, for the suits they had on when carried off by the Indians, had been worn and torn to shreds in their wanderings, and they were all dressed in skins dried with the fur on, having been made soft and pliable under the skilful hands of Howe and the chief.
It was now midwinter, and the valley was covered with a mantle of snow, but not as deep as they had anticipated it would be. They found they were partly defended from the storms, by a spur curving round to the principal range of mountains, giving the valley the form of a horse shoe—three high, precipitous sides breaking the storms of wind and snow, so as to make it really a very desirable situation. And a most fortunate one it was to the wanderers, the trapper often declaring, that if he ever reached home again, he would conduct the whole family to the spot, as it would not only make a desirable farm, but afford rare facilities for hunting and trapping, which desideratum was of the utmost importance to both Howe and Mr. Duncan.
It is really surprising to one reared in the lap of luxury, how little is actually necessary to support the human body healthfully. Take these wanderers, for instance, utterly debarred from procuring the simplest products of civilization, entirely thrown on such resources as savages are called to practice to sustain life and health, yet they have not only surmounted great obstacles, but are undaunted by those that lay before them, and have actually made themselves comfortable. Simple as their abode and fare were, nay, even extremely rude, yet they experienced a satisfaction and enjoyment when they retraced their wanderings since they were carried away captives, and the feeling of thankfulness for their wonderful escape from the savage cannibals, begat one of contentment in their present lot. It is true, they were fortunate in having found and occupied the building in ruins, as it afforded them a more secure shelter than they could have built, with the small complement of tools they possessed, yet it is a safe venture to conclude, that had they not discovered them, they would have made themselves an abode that would have shielded them from wet and cold.
There were four rooms in the temple, two only of which had been cleared. They had often been in the others, but as they had no use for them, they were left unmolested. The goat and the kid were stabled nightly in the hall, but as she had become so tame as to return at nightfall, she was allowed to roam at pleasure through the day. Following her instinct, she sought her food among the crags and defiles of the mountains, thus relieving them from the trouble of providing for her. When the snow first began to cover the ground in early winter, it caused them much anxiety as to how she was to be provided for until spring. Her milk was of too much importance to think of killing her, or turning her loose to run wild again, and she was at first tethered so as to prevent her wandering away. This was relinquished after a while, when they saw she returned of her own accord.
The colt caused them more trouble. Recently captured, they did not dare to turn it loose to seek food as they did the goat; and the only way left for them, was to tether it in the thickets of maple and basswood—the young tender growth of which the wild prairie horses are very fond of. These thickets were usually studded with a luxuriant undergrowth of small shrubs and evergreens that were very nutritious, and of which the fat condition of the wild horses, buffaloes, deer, antelope, mountain sheep, and goats that feed thereon, is sufficient proof. Often in the winter, plats of grass may be found in patches sheltered from the storms; but the chief dependences for food of the multitudes of cattle that roam through the western wilds, is the luxuriant growth of shrubs that spring up uncropped in the summer, as the cattle then prefer the tender grass on the prairies.
Sidney, to his great satisfaction, now began to use his arm without the slightest difficulty, and with his strength his spirits resumed their wonted healthful vigor, greatly to the relief of the trapper and Jane, who had been under the necessity of keeping a watch over him to prevent his coming to a rupture with the chief. He was now active, and only laughed heartily at what had annoyed him before, and tormented Jane unmercifully on the conquest she had made.
They were all in excellent health, and only waited with impatience for the winter to break up, so that they could resume their journey in safety in search of home. One thing alone grieved them—the evident increasing terror with which Mahnewe, the Indian mother, regarded the chief. In order to free her as much from his presence as possible, Howe had proposed long hunts, by going to the forest at early dawn, and not returning until evening. They enjoyed the sport, as it not only placed Mahnewe at ease, but they gained a perfect knowledge of the surrounding country, which was of much importance to them, as well as kept their larder supplied with abundance of game.
They had lost the day and month; and now their only guide was the fluctuations of the weather, of which, fortunately for themselves, they were good observers, and could calculate within half a month of the time at any season of the year. About the middle of February, as they calculated time, Howe and the chief went out one morning for a hunt, and following the valley down a mile or two, crossed the stream, and ascending a knoll, stood on its summit, surveying the country around them. The trees being shorn of their foliage, gave them an uninterrupted view of the broad valley, with its barrier of hills, and peak rising above peak, until they towered up and seemed almost to pierce the sky.
"I do not think it would be safe for us to cross this mountain," said the trapper. "Our homes, I do not think, are in that direction. We must have been deceived in our course."
"Yonder," said the chief, pointing down the valley, "are the hunting grounds of the Arapahoes. Far away, over a broad prairie, four days' journey, the warriors of Whirlwind follow another chief to battle, and listen to him in council, as they were wont to their lost chief, whose death song they have sung amidst the wail of the squaws. Yet Whirlwind does not grieve. He has found another squaw, fleeter than the antelope, more graceful than the fawn, whose voice is like the singing birds, and face fairer than imagery of the spirit land. Let my brother go to his home, but Whirlwind's home is where the antelope is, he will live and die with her."
"Pshaw! chief. You will be as much the chief of your people when you return as ever. Probably they have supposed you dead and elected another chief; still, according to your customs, if you return, the authority would be by universal acclamation, given back into your hands. As for that other little matter, why the child is too young to talk of it. Our first great object is to find our way out of this scrape, and the rest will then come natural enough."
"Whirlwind will hunt the deer and beaver here: this is his home; he is not a child, but a warrior, and can wait for the antelope," said the chief in a tone of decision not to be mistaken.
"I can tell you, chief," said Howe, "we will find our way out, and bring the whole family here. This place will exactly suit Jane's father, and then you know she would be so much more contented if they were here?" he added.
The chief regarded the speaker with an inquiring glance for a moment, then said: "Whirlwind is not to be played with. When the antelope says she will go with him, he will take her, if she is hemmed in with arrows."
"Whirlwind, I will be plain with you," said Howe, "for I know you are noble, generous, and brave. Jane is not my child, and is not mine to dispose of; but as she has no other guardian here, I will protect her until once more restored to her family. You must wait until then, and if her family consent, and she desires it, I shall make no objections. Perhaps by that time your love fit will be over, and you will not want her. There is Mahnewe, why don't you make love to her?"
"The eagle mates not with the owl, nor the Arapahoe with the Snake," retorted the savage angrily.
"Oh! well, just as you like; yet I think she is rather pretty. Come, chief, you cannot help but see it, as well as I. Don't you think she would make a wigwam look comfortable, and more homelike than Jane?"
"I cannot tell; I never see the stars when the sun shines," returned the Indian.
"It is a pity no one but an old bachelor heard that compliment it is such a waste," laughed the trapper. "I see you are over ears in love, chief. I know precisely how you feel. I was once in love myself. It did not last long though, for my flame gave my keepsakes to a good for nothing popinjay from down east; one for a string to bind round a broken knapsack, the other to carry home with him for a show. That was enough for me. I just told her I was done with her."
"You in love! that is capital! ha! ha!" rang out a voice behind the speaker, who, turning round, stood face to face with Edward, who had taken it into his head to share in the sport, and, following their track in the snow, had come up with them unperceived.
"What sent you here? anything the matter at the camp?" they asked in a breath.
"Nothing at all, that is why I came. I mistrusted you had some fun together out here, and I came to share it. Come, uncle, give the whole history of your love making. The bare idea of your being in love is rich," and the merry boy laughed until the woods rang with the joyous peals.
"I shall do no such thing. Do you think because I am old and ugly now, that I have always been so. There has been a day, boy, when——"
"You were once handsome, uncle, that is a fact, and they do say I look just as you used to. Come now, tell us about this affair."
"Well," said the trapper, mollified by the flattery, "when I was about three-and-twenty, I was just about as green as young, and took it into my head to get married, having persuaded myself that I was in love, and that, if I did not, I should not live long. Polly Crane was a nice girl, she could hoe corn, thresh grain, break fractious colts, or shoot a bear, just as well as I could myself. She was just the one for me, and we had got everything all fixed to be married, when a chap came travelling up there, (making mischief I thought) dressed exactly like a minister, only I knew he was not, he used such profane language. Well what does he do but begin making love to Polly, which made me very angry."
"'Never mind, Andy,' said Polly. 'You know I don't care for him or anybody else but you. I am only trying to see how bad he will feel when we are married.'
"'Go ahead then,' I said, 'if that is your game,' and sure enough she did go ahead, as I soon found out. When I was up round Lake Superior, the winter before, trapping with father, we got one night by mistake, into a grizzly bear's den, intending to spend the night. We soon found out our mistake, when we saw some cubs, and got ourselves out of the scrape as soon as we got in; but, as the cubs were such pretty things, I thought what a nice keepsake one of them would make Polly. So I hid one under my jacket unbeknown to father, until the old bear came snarling about us, after we had built a fire and laid down to sleep.'
"'Wonder what's the matter with the beast,' said father, 'guess she has tracked us from her den.'
"'Guess she misses her cub,' said I.
"'By George, Andy, you have got us in a fine scrape. However, my lady,' said the old man to the bear, 'you can't have that cub now: we never give up to anybody;' and, with that, he fired a ball between her eyes. But instead of dying, she attacked us, and we had a desperate fight. She got the worst of it though, for we carried off both her skin and cub. You ought to have seen the cub, it was a beauty, and when I gave it to Polly, she pretended that she thought it the nicest keepsake she ever saw. The other was, the skin of a snake. It was nearly six feet long, and very wide, spotted all over its back with white, brown, and black spots, and its sides were striped with brown, so that, when I split it open in the middle, it looked like a ribbon. I made it as soft, smooth and pretty as anything you ever saw.
"I did really think Polly was trying to deceive him, until he was going away, when I saw that pretty snake skin tied around his plunder, and as if that was not enough with a string in hand, he was leading away the cub of the grizzly bear that I had brought all the way from Superior for her."
"My brother's squaw's tongue was forked—the antelope's tongue is not forked, she cannot lie," said the chief.
"Look here, chief; they are all alike. When they say they will have you, they mean they will if they don't get out of the notion of it."
"My brother's heart is dark, and, looking through it, he sees nothing but gloom, where I see sunshine," returned the chief.
"That is, I am to understand, you are in love, and uncle thinks it is an exploded fallacy," said Edward, laughing; for, in truth, he was in a merry mood, and his uncle's mishaps did not have a tendency to lessen it in the least.
"It is nonsense, all nonsense," said the trapper.
"Hist!" said the chief, laying his finger on his lip, "there is large game approaching!—there! I hear it again: have your arrows in readiness," he continued, after a moment's pause.
"Deer, perhaps," said the trapper, "it comes in leaps; I hear it distinctly."
"Yes, deer," said the chief, drawing his bow to his shoulder as a noble buck bounded in sight, with his tongue protruding from his mouth, and his eyes had a wild look of agony and terror, such as is only seen at a moment of despair.
"Chased by a wolf! let the deer pass and shoot the pursuer," said the trapper; but, scarcely were the words spoken, when a giant form covered with hair, but bearing in form a semblance to humanity, came bounding after, clearing from ten to twelve feet at every bound. On he came, and, at the base of the knoll on which they stood, overtook his prey, and grasping it by the throat, with one hand dealt it a succession of furious blows on the head which knocked it down, when choking it until life was extinct, he stood upright contemplating his prey.
They had instinctively dropped their arrows when they saw the pursuer; and Whirlwind motioning the others to keep still, glided on towards the singular creature, slipping from tree to tree until within a few rods of him, when, taking from beneath his tunic his lasso, which he always carried with him, he cut a circle with it in the air, then giving it a throw, it quickly descended, girdling the strange being in its fold. With an unearthly yell, he attempted to free himself from its coil. Unfortunately it did not confine either arm, as the chief hoped it would, and the creature finding it could neither break the stout hide nor gnaw it off, sprang with ferocity at his captor, who had just succeeded in fastening the other end of the lasso to a tree, and before he had time to get out of the way, seized and threw him on the snow with terrific force.
Howe saw the chief at the mercy of the monster, and in a moment an arrow winged its flight, burying itself in its shoulder, causing the monster to lose his hold. Another and another were shot in quick succession, striking where they would not give a mortal wound, for it looked so human, the trapper would not kill him if he could save the life of the chief otherwise. This new attack puzzled the monster for a moment; then seeing Howe and Edward, who had approached within a few yards of him, he rushed with such force upon them, that they had no time to get out of reach, and they were also caught by him and hurled to the ground, but not before a blow dealt by Edward with a club had broken his left arm. At that moment the chief, who had recovered from the stunning effect of the fall, rushed upon the monster, and with a single blow of his tomahawk, felled him to the ground, and before he could rally, the lasso that was still on him, was tied around his arms and feet to render him powerless. In defiance of the wounds he had received, he was in nowise tamed, but glared on them, howling and gnashing his teeth, while the foam rolled from his mouth, and he writhed and rolled with rage on the snow a captive. The stout lasso of hide they had cut in pieces, and so tied his hands and feet that he was powerless to do them harm.
They now had a chance to examine the powerful creature at leisure. He was entirely naked, with a perfect human form and face, but was perfectly covered with hair, except the forehead, eyelids, palms of the hands, and soles of the feet. They were surprised to see that the skin, where it was protected from the sun by the hair, was white and fair as their own. He was powerfully built, full six feet high, and uttered no sound that approached the pronunciation of words; a succession of snarls, growls, and yells, were all the sounds he uttered, and these approached, when accompanied by his efforts to release himself, the terrific, nearer than anything they had ever heard.
"Well, uncle, what will you do with him now you have got him?" said Edward.
"Kill him," spoke up the chief, indignantly.
"Take him home and tame him," said the trapper. "He is a human being like ourselves; probably has been lost in infancy, and grown up wild, without doubt, never having seen his kind before to-day."
"He will kill us if you take him home," said the chief; "better shoot him."
"No, chief, I could not kill him, but will see he does us no harm. I will make him as tame as a kitten in a month."
"How will you get him home, uncle? We can not carry him, and if you untie his feet he will run away."
"That is what I was just thinking about. I think one of us had better return for the colt, and make him ride."
"Very good, if you can get him on and make him stay there," said the chief.
"Make him go himself: tie him so he cannot run away," suggested Edward.
"I am not sure but that would be the best plan," said Howe. "I am sorry he got that blow on his arm; I am sure it pains him; see how he attempts to raise it, and groans at every motion he makes."
"Do you really think, uncle, he is human? It strikes me he is a monkey, or an orang-outang, rather than human."
"There is neither monkey nor orang-outang in the North American forests. One such snow as now lies on the ground, would kill a myriad of them. I am quite confident of the customer I have to deal with. He is no more nor less than a wild man, whose long exposure to the elements, and total isolation from every human being, has caused the hair to grow over his body. This also explains why he cannot speak like us."
They then endeavored to get him forward, having partly untied his feet so as to allow him to move. The chief, with a stout cord, went forward and endeavored to urge him on, but the wild man refused to move. After exhausting every plan they could devise, they bethought themselves of coercion. Howe accordingly raised a club as if he would strike, when, with a wild cry of alarm, he raised his eyes imploringly, at the same time starting forward, when the chief moving on, gave him to understand he was to follow.
On perceiving what was required of him, and finding it was useless to attempt an escape, he made no further opposition to follow, although it was not safe to be near him as he gnashed with his teeth at every one that approached him.
Reaching the temple without further trouble, Edward called the attention of Jane to the new addition to their family, and said with perfect gravity—
"I really think you have one of the most devoted wooers; see what a rare prize he has risked life and limb in securing for you, which he begs you will have the kindness to accept from him in token of the love he bears you."
"Why, what a monster it is," said Sidney, walking round and round it. "It is a comical keepsake to give a girl, I must say. Really, chief, you Indians have curious tastes about such matters."
"My brother gave his squaw a cub," retorted the chief, angrily, as they all burst into a laugh at the very idea of the monster being presented to Jane, who was casting furtive glances from it to the chief, and was just beginning to think that she might next be called on to accept a wolf or panther, and was casting in her mind the chances she had in escaping such an infliction, when the chief said, as if divining her thoughts.
"It is not for the antelope. See, Whirlwind kill it," and he raised his tomahawk, and would have driven it into the wild man's skull had not his arm been caught by the trapper.
"Chief! would you be a murderer?" asked the trapper, sternly. "See him crouch! he fears you, and depend upon it, if we use our power over him discreetly, we shall tame him."
The chief dropped his arm and doggedly walked away. Jane brought some nuts and placing them where he could reach them, begged her uncle to unbind the cord around his hand so that he could eat them. This he did not think prudent to do until the broken bone was set, which, after a great deal of trouble, he succeeded in doing, effectually binding up the fracture with soft strips of the mountain sheep skin, of which they had an abundance in their store room.
After this was done he was dressed in a tunic and small clothes, the long hair was cut from his face as well as they could with their hunting-knives, to which they had given an extra sharpening for the occasion. Tightening the cord around his feet they unbound the cord that confined his hands, when he seized the nuts, cracked them with his teeth and devoured them with avidity.
"Broil him some steaks, Jane," said the trapper, "I think he is hungry."
"There is a cold haunch of venison in the store room; perhaps he will eat that," said Jane.
"Of course he will; bring it in." Cutting off some thick slices she laid them before him; eyeing them intently for a moment as if not knowing what they were, he cautiously turned them over and then turned his eye with an inquiring look towards Jane, who smiling, cut off another slice and commenced eating it. Seeing the action he cautiously raised his slice to his lips; but as soon as he had tasted it all doubt seemed to vanish, for the venison disappeared rapidly. Jane continued to cut as long as he continued to eat, and when he had done gave him a gourd of water to drink.
"I am afraid we have fed him too highly for his broken arm. There will be danger of fever," said the trapper. They miscalculated his nature, and supposed causes produced the same effects in a healthful and an enervated constitution. This knowledge gradually dawned on them as day after day went by without exhibiting the least derangement in his system. From the first, he had been docile and obedient to Jane, and when in the most violent paroxysms, if she spoke to him, his anger vanished and his countenance assumed a pleasing expression. He had eyes of clear, deep blue, large, quick and varying as the emotion in his heart. They could see the passion that held sway over him by his eye; for he had not, like his brothers, learned to dissemble and hide the workings of the soul within. Howe had also become a great favorite with him; but he feared the chief, always cowering and uttering a shrill cry of fear if he came near him. Edward was also a favorite and spent much of his time in learning him to pronounce words in which he was quite successful, his powers of imitation seeming to be boundless. After he had pronounced the first the difficulty seemed to vanish, and he was never tired of repeating words after others. The greatest trouble they experienced with him was during his fits of passion. Then he was furious, tore his fur garments in shreds, and threw down every thing in his reach. They had not dared to liberate him on account of these paroxysms of anger, over which he did not seem to have the least control. He evidently pined to be free again; for if left to himself he uttered a low moan, while tears chased each other down his weather-beaten cheeks.