Were any one inclined to doubt the wonderful harmony which pervades all the works of God, from the very greatest to the very least, he might find a collateral, if not a direct, proof of its existence in the instinctive inclination of the mind of man to discern, in the external world of Nature, figurative resemblances and illustrations of the facts, the events, and the objects of man's moral being and spiritual existence. Not an hour of the day--not a season of the year--not a change in the sky, or on the prospect--not a shade falling over the light, nor a beam penetrating the darkness--but man's imagination seizes upon it to figure some one or other of the moral phenomena of his nature, and at once perceives and proclaims a harmony between material and immaterial things. The earliest flower of the spring (the shade-loving violet) images to the mind of most men a gentle, sweet, retiring spirit. The blushing rose, in its majesty of bloom, displays the pomp and fragrance of mature beauty. The clouds and the storms give us figures for the sorrows, the cares, and the disasters of life; and the spring and the winter, the dawning and the decline of day, shadow forth to our fancy youth and old age; while the rising sun pictures our birth into this life of active exertion, effort, toil, glory, and immortality; and the night, with the new dawn beyond it, the grave, and a life to come.
It was in the old age of the year, then--not the decrepit old age, but the season of vigorous, though declining, maturity; and in the childhood of the day--not the infancy of dawn, where everything is grey and obscure, but the clear, dewy childhood, where all is freshness, and elasticity, and balm--that three travellers took their way onward from the house of Mr. Prevost along a path which led toward the north-east.
Two other persons watched them from the door of the house, and two negro-men and a negro-woman gazed after them from the corner of the building, which joined on to a low fence, encircling the stable and poultry-yard, and running on round the well-cultivated kitchen garden.
The negro-woman shook her head, and looked sorrowful and sighed, but said nothing; the two men talked freely of the imprudence of "master" in suffering his son to go upon such an expedition.
Mr. Prevost and his daughter gazed in silence till the receding figures were hidden by the trees. Then the master of the house led Edith back, saying--
"God will protect him, my child. A parent was not given to crush the energies of youth, but to direct them."
In the meanwhile, Lord H---- and his guide--Captain Brooks, according to his English name, or Woodchuck in the Indian parlance--followed by Walter Prevost, made their way rapidly, though easily, through the wood. The two former were dressed in the somewhat anomalous attire which I have described in first introducing the the worthy captain to the reader; but Walter was in the ordinary costume of the people of the province of that day, except inasmuch as he had his rifle in his hand, and a large leathern wallet slung over his left shoulder; each of his companions, too, had a rifle hung across the back by a broad leathern band; and each was furnished with a hatchet at his girdle, and a long pipe, with a curiously-carved stem, in his hand.
Although they were not pursuing any of the public provincial roads, and they were consequently obliged to walk singly, the one following the other, yet Woodchuck, who led the way, had no difficulty in finding it, or in proceeding rapidly.
We are told by an old writer of those days, who, unlike many modern writers, witnessed, with his own eyes, all he described, that the Indian trails, or footpaths, were innumerable over that large tract of country which the Five Nations called their "Long House," crossing and re-crossing each other in every different direction: sometimes almost lost where the ground was hard and dry; sometimes indenting, by the repeated pressure of many feet, the natural soil to the depth of thirty-six or forty inches.
It was along one of these that the travellers were passing; and although a stump here and there, or a young tree springing up in the midst of a trail, offered an occasional impediment, it was rarely of such a nature as to retard the travellers in their course, or materially add to their fatigues.
With the calm assurance and unhesitating rapidity of a practised woodsman, Brooks led his two companions forward without doubt as to his course. No great light had he, it is true; for though the sun was actually above the horizon, and now and then his slanting rays found their way through some more open space, and gilded their pathway, in general the thick trees and underwood formed a shade, which, at that early hour, the light could hardly penetrate; and the sober morning was still dressed almost in the dark hues of night.
"Set your steps in mine," said Woodchuck, speaking in a whisper over his shoulder to Lord H----, "then we shall be real Ingians. Don't you know that when they go out on the war-path, as they call it, each man puts down his foot just where his leader put down his before. So, come dog, come cat, no one can tell how many went to Jack Pilbury's barn."
"But do you think there is any real danger?" asked Lord H----.
"There is always danger in a dark wood and a dark eye," answered Woodchuck, with a laugh; "but no more danger here than in Prevost's cottage of either the one or the other, for you or for Walter. As for me, I am safe anywhere."
"But you are taking strange precautions where there is no danger," observed Lord H----, who could not banish all doubts of his wild companion: "you speak in whispers, and advise us to follow all the cunning devices of the Indians, in a wood which we passed through fearlessly yesterday."
"I am just as fearless now as you war then, if you passed through this wood," answered Brooks, in a graver tone; "but you are not a woodsman, major, or you'd understand better. We who, five days out of the seven, are surrounded by enemies, or but half-friends--just like a man wrapped up in a porcupine skin--are quite sure that a man's worst enemy and greatest traitor is in himself. So, even when a wise man is quite safe, he puts a guard upon his lips, lest that traitor should betray him; and as for his enemies, knowing there is always one present with him, he takes every care that his everlasting fancy can hit upon, lest more should come suddenly upon him. What I mean, sir, is, that we are sooftenin danger, that we think it best to act as if we werealwaysin it; and, never knowing how near it may be, to make as sure as we can that we keep it at a distance. You cannot tell that there is not an Ingian in every bush you pass; and yet you'd chatter as loud as if you were in my lady's drawing-room. But I, though I know there is ne'er a one, don't speak louder than a grasshopper's hind legs, for fear I should get into the habit of talking loud in the forest."
"There is some truth, my friend, I believe, in what you say," returned Lord H----; "but I hear a sound growing louder and louder as we advance. It is the cataract, I suppose.
"Yes, just the waterfall," answered the other, in an indifferent tone. "Down half a mile below, Master Walter will find the boat that will take him to Albany. Then you and I can snake up by the side of the river till we have gone as fur as we have a mind to. I shouldn't wonder if we got a shot at somewhat on four, as we run along; a moose, or a painter, or a look-severe, or something of that kind. Pity we haven't got a canoe, or a batteau, or something to put our game in."
"In Heaven's name, what do you call a look-severe?" asked Lord H----.
"Why, the French folks call it aloup-cervier," answered Brooks. "I guess you never saw one. But he is not as pleasant as a pretty maid in a by-place, is he, Master Walter? He puts himself up into a tree, and there he watches, looking fast asleep, but with the devil that is in him moving every joint of his tail the moment he hears anything come trotting along; and when it is just under him, down he drops upon it plump, like a rifle-shot into a pumpkin."
The conversation then fell off into a word or two spoken now and then, and still the voice of the waters grew louder and more loud, till Lord H---- could hardly hear his own footfalls. The more practised ear of Brooks, however, caught every sound; and at length he exclaimed:--"What's alive? Why are you cocking your rifle, Walter?"
"Hush!" said the lad; "there is something stealing in there behind the laurels. It is an Indian, I think, going on all fours. Look quietly out there."
"More likely abeear," replied Woodchuck, in the same low tone which the other had used--"I see, I see. It's not abeear either; but it's not an Ingian. It's gone--no, there it is agin. Hold hard!--let him climb. It's a painter. Here, Walter, come up in front--you shall have him. The cur smells fresh meat. He'll climb in a minute. There he goes. No, the crittur's on again. We shall lose him if we don't mind. Quick, Walter! spread out there to the right. I will take the left, and we shall drive him to the water, where he must climb. You, major, keep right on a head--mind take the middle trail all along, and look up at the branches, or you may have him on your head. There, he's a bending south. Quick, Walter, quick!"
Lord H---- had as yet seen nothing of the object discovered by the eyes of his two companions, but he had sufficient of the sportsman in his nature to enter into all their eagerness; and, unslinging his rifle, he followed the path, or trail, along which they had been proceeding, while Walter Prevost darted away into the tangled bushes on the right, and Woodchuck stole more quietly in amongst the trees on his left. He could hear the branches rustle, and, for nearly a quarter of a mile, could trace their course on either side of him by the various little signs of now a waving branch, now a slight sound. Once, and only once, he thought he saw the panther cross the trail, but it was at a spot peculiarly dark, and he did not feel at all sure that fancy had not deceived him.
The roar of the cataract in the mean time increased each moment; and it was evident to the young nobleman that he and his companions on their different courses were approaching close and more closely to some large stream towards which it was the plan of good Captain Brooks to force the object of their pursuit. At length, too, the light became stronger, and the blue sky and sunshine could be seen through the tops of the trees in front, when suddenly, on the right, he heard the report of a rifle, and then a fierce snarling sound, with a shout from Walter Prevost.
Knowing how dangerous the wounded panther is, the young officer, without hesitation, darted away into the brush to aid Edith's brother; for, by this time, it was in that light that he generally thought of him; and the lad soon heard his approach, and guided him up by the voice, calling--"Here, here!" There was no alarm or agitation in his tones, which were rather those of triumph; and, a moment after, as he caught sight of his friend's coming form, he added--"He's a splendid beast. I must have the skin off him."
Lord H---- drew nigh, somewhat relaxing his speed when he found there was no danger, and in another minute he was by the side of the lad who was just quietly re-charging his rifle, while at some six or seven yards' distance lay a large panther, of the American species, mortally wounded, and quite powerless for evil, but not yet quite dead.
"Keep away from him--keep away!" cried Walter, as the young nobleman approached. "They sometimes tear one terribly even at the last gasp."
"Why, he is nearly as big as a tiger," said Lord H----.
"He is a splendid fellow," answered Walter, joyfully. "One might live a hundred years in England without finding such game."
Lord H---- smiled, and remained for a moment or two, till the young man's rifle was re-loaded, gazing at the beast in silence.
Suddenly, however, they both heard the sound of another rifle on the left, and Walter exclaimed--
"Woodchuck has got one too."
But the report was followed by a yell very different from the snarl or growl of a wounded beast.
"That's no panther's cry," exclaimed Walter Prevost, his cheek turning somewhat pale; "what can have happened?"
"It was a human utterance," said Lord H----, listening, "like that of some one in sudden agony. I trust our friend, the Woodchuck, has not shot himself by accident."
"It is not a white man's cry," said Walter, bending; his ear in the direction from which had come the sounds. But all was still; and the young man raised his voice, and shouted to their companion.
No answer was returned; and Lord H----, exclaiming, "We had better seek him at once, he may need help," darted away towards the spot whence his ear told him the shot had come.
"A little more to the right, my lord, a little more to the right," said Walter; "you will hit on a trail in a minute" Then, raising his voice again, he shouted "Woodchuck! Woodchuck!" with evident alarm and distress.
He was right in the supposition that they should soon find some path, for they struck an Indian trail, crossing that on which they had been previously proceeding, and leading in the direction in which they wished to go. Both then hurried on with greater rapidity, Walter running rather than walking, and Lord H---- following, with his cocked rifle in his hand.
They had not far to go, however; for the trail soon opened upon a small piece of grassy savanna, lying close upon the river's edge; and in the midst of it they beheld a sight which was terrible enough in itself, but which afforded less apprehension and grief to the mind of Lord H---- than to that of Walter Prevost, who was better acquainted with the Indian habits and character.
About ten yards from the mouth of the path appeared the powerful form of Captain Brooks, with his folded arms leaning on the muzzle of his discharged rifle. He was as motionless as a statue; his brow contracted; his brown cheek very pale, and his eyes bent forward upon an object lying upon the grass before him. It was the body of an Indian weltering in his blood. The dead man's head was bare of all covering, except the scalp-lock. He was painted with the war colours; and in his hand, as he lay, he still grasped the tomahawk, as if it had been raised, in the act to strike, the moment before he fell.
To the eyes of Lord H----, his tribe or nation was an undiscovered secret; but certain small signs and marks in his garb, and even in his features, showed Walter Prevost at once that he was not only one of the Five Nations, but an Oneida.
The full and terrible importance of the fact will be seen by what followed.
For a few minutes, the three living men stood silent in the presence of the dead; and, then Walter exclaimed, in a tone of deep grief, "Alas, Woodchuck! what have you done?"
"Saved my scalp," answered Brooks, sternly, and fell into silence again.
There was another long pause; at last, Lord H----, mistaking in some degree the causes of the man's strong emotion, laid his hand upon the hunter's arm, saying, "Come away, my friend! Why should you linger here?"
"It's no use," answered Woodchuck, gloomily; "he had a woman with him, and it will soon be known all through the tribe."
"But for your own safety," said Walter, "you had better fly. It is very sad, indeed. What could make him attack you?"
"An old grudge, Master Walter," answered Brooks, seating himself deliberately on the ground, and laying his rifle across his knee. "I knew the crittur well--the Striped Snake they called him, and a snake he was. He tried to cheat and rob me, and I made it plain to the whole tribe. Some laughed and thought it fair; but old Black Eagle scorned and rebuked him, and he has hated me ever since. He has been long watching for this, and now he has got it."
"Well, well," returned Walter, "what's done cannot be undone. You had better get away as fast as you can; for Black Eagle told me he had left three scouts behind, to bring us tidings in case of danger, and we cannot tell how near the others may be."
"This was one of them," answered Brooks, still keeping his seat, and gazing at the Indian; "but what is safety to me, Walter? I can no more roam the forests, I can no more pursue my way of life; I must go into dull and smoky cities, and plod amongst thieving, cheating crowds of white men. The rifle and the hatchet must be laid aside for ever; the forest grass must know my foot no more. Flowers and green leaves, and rushing streams, and the broad lake, and the mountain top, are lost and gone--the watch under the deep boughs, and by the silent water. Close pressed amidst the toiling herd, I shall become sordid, and low, and filthy, as they are; my free nature lost, and gyves upon my spirit. All life's blessings are gone from me; why should I care for life?"
There was something unusually plaintive, mournful, and earnest in his tones, and Lord H---- could not help feeling for him, although he did not comprehend fully the occasion of his grief.
"But, my good friend," he said, "I cannot perceive how your having slain this Indian in your own defence can bring such a train of miseries upon you. You would not have killed him, if he had not attacked you."
"Alas for me! alas for me!" was all the answer that the poor man made.
"You do not know their habits, sir," said Walter, in a low voice; "they must always have blood for blood. If he stays here, if he ever returns, go where he will in the Indian territory, they will track him, they will follow him day and night. He will be amongst them like one of the wild beasts whom we so eagerly pursue from place to place, with the hatchet always hanging over his head. There is no safety for him, except far away in the provinces beyond those towns that Indians ever visit. Do persuade him to come away and leave the body. He can go down with me to Albany, and thence make his way to New York or Philadelphia."
For some minutes Brooks remained deaf to all arguments; his whole thoughts seemed occupied with the terrible conviction that the wild scenes and free life which he enjoyed so intensely were, with him, at an end for ever.
Suddenly, however, when Lord H---- was just about to abandon, in despair, the task of persuading him, he started up as if some new thought struck him; and, gazing first at Walter and then at the young officer, he exclaimed,--
"But I am keeping you here, and you too may be murdered. The death-spot is upon me, and it will spread to all around. I am ready to go. I will bear my fate as I can, but it is very, very hard. Come, let us be gone quick. Stay, I will charge my rifle first. Who knows how soon we may need it for more such bloody work?"
All his energy seemed to have returned in a moment, and it deserted him not again. He charged his rifle with wonderful rapidity, tossed it under his arm, and took a step as if to go. Then for a moment he paused, and, advancing close to the dead Indian, gazed at him sternly.
"Oh, my enemy!" he cried, "thou saidst thou wouldst have revenge, and thou hast had it, far more bitter than if thy hatchet had entered into my skull, and I were lying there in thy place."
Turning round as soon as he had spoken, he led the way back along the trail, murmuring, rather to himself than to his companions,--
"The instinct of self-preservation is very strong. But better for me had I let him slay me. I know not how I was fool enough to fire. Come, Walter, we must get round the falls, where we shall find some bateaux that will carry us down."
He walked along for about five minutes in silence; and then suddenly looked around to Lord H----, exclaiming,--
"But what's to become of him? How is he to find his way back again? Come, I will go back with him; it matters not if they do catch me and scalp me. I do not like to be dogged, and tracked, and followed, and taken unawares. But I can only die at last. I will go back with him as soon as you are in the boat, Walter."
"No, no, Woodchuck, that will not do," returned the lad; "you forget that if they found you with him, they would kill him too. I will tell you how we will manage it. Let him come down with us to the point; then there is a straight road up to the house, and we can get one of the bateaux-men to go with him and show him the way, unless he likes to go on with me to Albany."
"I cannot do that," replied Lord H----, "for I promised to be back at your father's house by to-morrow night, and matters of much importance may have to be decided. But I can easily land at the point, as you say--whatever point you may mean--and find my way back. As for myself, I have no fears. There seem to be but a few scattered parties of Indians of different tribes roaming about, and I trust that anything like general hostility is at an end for this year at least."
"In Indian warfare, the danger is the greatest, I have heard, when it seems the least," observed Walter Prevost; "but from the point to the house, some fourteen or sixteen miles, the road is generally safe, for it is the only one on which large numbers of persons are passing to and from Albany."
"It will be safe enough," said Woodchuck; "that way is always quiet, and, besides, a wise man and a peaceful one could travel at any time from one end of the Long House to the other without risk--unless there were special cause. It is bad shooting we have had to-day, Walter; but still I should have liked to have the skin of that painter; he seemed to me an unextinguishable fine crittur."
"He was a fine creature, and that I know, for I shot him, Woodchuck," said Walter Prevost, with some pride in the achievement. "I wanted to send the skin to Otaitsa; but it cannot be helped."
"Let us go and get it now," cried Woodchuck, with the ruling passion strong in death; "'tis but a step back. Darn those Ingians! Why should we care?"
But both his companions urged him forward; and they continued their way through the woods skirting the river for somewhat more than two miles, first rising gently to a spot where the roar of the waters was heard distinctly, and then descending to a rocky point, midway between the highest ground and the water level, where a small congregation of huts had been gathered together, principally inhabited by boatmen, and surrounded by a stout palisade. One of the most necessary parts of prudence in any body of settlers, was to choose such a site for their dwelling-place as would command a clear view of an approaching stranger, whether well or ill disposed; and the ground round this little hamlet had been cleared on all sides of every tree and shrub that could conceal a rabbit. Thus situated on the top of the eminence nearest to the water, it possessed an almost panoramic view, hardly to be surpassed in the world.
That view, however, had one principal object. On the left, at about four hundred yards' distance, the river of which I have spoken came thundering over a precipice of about three hundred feet in height. Whether worn by the constant action of the waters, or cast into that shape by some strange geological phenomenon, the rock over which the torrent poured had assumed the form of a great amphitheatre, scooped out, as it were, in the very bed of the river, which, flowing on in a mighty stream, fell over the edge at various points; sometimes in an immense green mass, sometimes in a broad and silvery sheet, sometimes in a dazzling line of sparkling foam; all the streams meeting about half-way down, and thundering and boiling in a dark abyss, which the eye from above could hardly fathom. Jutting masses of gray rock protruded themselves in strange fantastic shape about, around, and below, the chasm; and upon these, wherever a root could cling, or a particle of vegetable earth could rest, a tree, a shrub, or a flower had perched itself. The green boughs waved amidst the spray; the dark hemlock contrasted itself, in its stern grandeur, with the white, agitated waters; and the birch and the ash, with their waving branches, seemed to sport with the eddies as they leaped along.
At the foot of the precipice was a deep, whirling pool, unseen, however, from the spot where the travellers stood; and from this issued, first narrow and confined, but then spreading out gradually, between the decreasing banks, a wide and beautiful river, which, by the time it circled the point in front of the travellers, had become as calm and glossy as a looking-glass, reflecting for their eyes the blue sky and the majestic clouds which were now moving slowly over it.
The bend taken by the river shaped the hilly point of ground on which the travellers stood into a small peninsula, about the middle of the neck of which was the boatman's little hamlet which I have mentioned; and nearly at the same distance as the falls from the huts, though more than a mile and a half by the course of the stream, was a piece of broad, sandy shore, on which the woodman had drawn up ten or twelve boats, used sometimes for the purposes of fishing, sometimes for the carriage of peltries to the towns lower down; and goods and passengers returning.
Thence onward, the course of the river could be traced for eight or ten miles, flowing through a gently undulating country, densely covered with forest, while to the east and north rose up some fine blue mountains, at the distance, probably, of thirty miles.
The scene at the hamlet itself had nothing very remarkable in it. There were women sitting at the door, knitting and sewing; men lounging about, or mending nets, or making lines; children playing in the dirt, as usual, both inside and outside the palisade. The traces of more than one nation could be discovered in the features, as well as on the tongues, of the inhabitants; and it was not difficult to perceive, that here had been congregated, by the force of circumstances, into which it is not necessary to inquire, sundry fragments of Dutch, English, Indian, and even French, races, all bound together by a community of object and pursuit.
The approach of the three strangers did not in any degree startle the good people from their idleness or their occupations. The carrying trade was then a very good one, especially in remote places where travelling was difficult; and these people could always make a tolerable livelihood, without any very great or continuous exertion. The result of such a state of things is always very detrimental to activity of mind or body; and the boatmen, though they sauntered round Lord H---- and his companions, divining that some profitable piece of work was before them, showed amazing indifference as to whether they would undertake it or not.
But that which astonished Lord H---- the most, was to see the deliberate coolness with which Woodchuck set about making his bargain for the conveyance of himself and Walter to Albany. He sat down upon a large stone within the enclosure, took a knife from his pocket, a piece of wood from the ground, and began cutting the latter into small splinters, with as tranquil and careless an air as if there were no heavy thought upon his mind, no dark memory behind him, no terrible fate dogging him at the heels.
But Woodchuck and Walter were both well known to the boatmen; and though they might probably have attempted to impose upon the inexperience of the lad, they knew they had met their match in the shrewdness of his companion, and were not aware that any circumstance rendered speed more valuable to him than money.
The bargain, then, was soon concluded; but Captain Brooks was not contented till he had stipulated also for the services of two men in guiding Lord H---- back to the house of Mr. Prevost. This was undertaken for a dollar atpiece; and then the whole party proceeded to the bank of the river, where a boat was soon unmoored, and Walter and his companion set forth upon their journey; not, however, until Lord H---- had shaken the former warmly by the hand, and said a few words in the ear of Captain Brooks, adding:--
"Walter will tell you more, and how to communicate with me."
"Thank you, thank you," replied the hunter, wringing his hand hard. "A friend in need is a friend indeed; I do not want it, but I thank you as much as if I did. But you shall hear if I do; for somehow I guess you are not the man to say what you don't mean."
After seeing his two companions row down the stream for a few yards, the nobleman turned to the boatmen who accompanied him, saying--
"Now, my lads, I want to make a change of our arrangements, and to go back the short way by which we came. I did not interrupt our good friend Woodchuck, because he was anxious about my safety. There are some Indians in the forest, and he feared I might get scalped. However, we shot a panther there, which we couldn't stay to skin, as their business in Albany was pressing. Now, I want the skin, and am not afraid of the Indians--are you?"
The men laughed, and replied in the negative, saying that there were none of the red men there, except four or five Oneidas, and some Mohawks; but they added that the way, though shorter, was much more difficult and bushy, and, therefore, they must have more pay. Lord H---- was less difficult to deal with than Captain Brooks, and the bargain was soon struck.
Each of the men then armed himself with a rifle, and took a bag of parched corn with him, and the three set out. Lord H---- undertook to guide them to the spot where the panther lay; and not a little did they marvel at the accuracy and precision with which his military habits of observation enabled him to direct them step by step. He took great care not to let them approach the spot where the Indian had been slain, but, stopping about a quarter of a mile to the south, led them across the thicket to within a very few yards of the object he was in search of. It was soon found when they came near the place, and about half an hour was employed in taking off the skin and packing it up for carriage.
"Now," said Lord H----, "will you two undertake to have this skin properly cured, and dispatched by the first trader going west to the Oneida village?"
The men readily agreed to do so, if well paid for it, but of course required further directions, saying there were a dozen or more Oneida villages.
"It will be sure to reach its destination," said Lord H----, "if you tell the bearer to deliver it to Otaitsa, which I believe means the Blossom, the daughter of Black Eagle, the Sachem. Say that it comes from Walter Prevost."
"Oh ay," answered the boatmen, "it shall be done; but we shall have to pay the man who carries it."
The arrangement in regard to payment was soon made, though it was somewhat exorbitant; but to insure that the commission was faithfully executed, Lord H---- reserved a portion of the money, to be given when he heard that the skin had been delivered. He little knew the consequences which were to flow from the little act of kindness he was performing.
The rest of the journey passed without interruption or difficulty, and at an early hour of the evening the young nobleman stood once more at the door of his countryman's house.
The return of Lord H---- without his guide and companion, Captain Brooks, caused some surprise in Mr. Prevost and his daughter, who had not expected to see any of the party before a late hour of the following evening.
Not choosing to explain, in the presence of Edith, the cause of his parting so suddenly from the hunter, the young nobleman merely said that circumstances had led him to conclude that it would be advisable to send Woodchuck in the boat with Walter to Albany; and his words were uttered in so natural and easy a tone, that Edith, unconscious that her presence put any restraint upon his communication with her father, remained seated in their pleasant little parlour till the hour for the evening meal.
"Well, my lord," said Mr. Prevost, after the few first words of explanation had passed, "did you meet with any fresh specimen of the Indian in your short expedition?"
The question might have been a somewhat puzzling one for a man who did not want to enter into any particulars; but Lord H---- replied with easy readiness--
"Only one. Him we saw but for a moment, and he did not speak with us."
"They are a very curious race," observed Mr. Prevost, "and albeit not very much given to ethnological studies, I have often puzzled myself as to whence they sprang, and how they made their way over to this continent."
Lord H---- smiled.
"I fear I cannot help you," he said. "My profession, you know, my dear sir, leads one much more to look at things as they are than to inquire how they came about. It strikes me at once, however, that in mere corporeal characteristics the Indian is very different from any race I ever beheld, if I may judge by the few individuals I have seen. The features are very different from those of any European or Asiatic people that I know of, and the frame seems formed for a combination of grace and power almost perfect. Our friend the Black Eagle, for instance; compare him with a Yorkshire or Somersetshire farmer, and what a contrast you would find! Habits could not have produced the difference, at least if they sprang from an Eastern stock, for the tribes of the desert are as free and unrestrained, as much used to constant exercise and activity; but I should be inclined to fancy that climate may have something to do with the matter, for it has struck me that many of the people I have seen in the provinces have what I may call a tendency toward the Indian formation. There is a length and suppleness of limb, which to my eyes has something Indian about it."
"Bating the grace and dignity," said Edith, gaily, "I do think that what my father would call the finest specimens of the human animal are to be found among the Indians. Look at our dear little Otaitsa, for instance, can anything be more beautiful, more graceful, more perfect, than her whole face and form?"
Lord H---- smiled, and slightly bowed his head, saying,--
"Now, many a fair lady, Miss Prevost, would naturally expect a very gallant reply; and I might make another without a compliment in good cool blood, and upon calm, mature consideration. I am very poorly versed, however, in civil speeches, and therefore I will only say that I think I have seen white ladies as beautiful, as graceful, and as perfect, as your fair young friend, together with the advantage of a better complexion. But, at the same time, I will admit that she is exceedingly beautiful, and not only that, but very charming, and very interesting too. Hers is not exactly the style of beauty I admire the most; but certainly it is perfect in its kind, and my young friend Walter seems to think so too."
A slight flush passed over Edith's cheek, and her eyes instantly turned towards her father. But Mr. Prevost only laughed, saying,--
"If they were not so young, I should be afraid that my son would marry the Sachem's daughter, and, perhaps, in the end, take to the tomahawk and the scalping-knife. But, joking apart, Otaitsa is a very singular little creature. I never can bring myself to feel that she is an Indian--a savage, in short. When I hear her low, melodious voice, with its peculiar song-like intonation, and see the grace and dignity with which she moves, and the ease and propriety with which she adapts herself to every European custom, I have to look at her bead-embroidered petticoat, and her leggins, and her moccassins, before I can carry it home to my mind that she is not some very high-bred lady of the court of France or England. Then she is so fair, too; but that is probably from care, and the lack of that exposure to the sun which may, at first, have given and then perpetuated the Indian tint. To use an old homely expression, she is the apple of her father's eye, and he is as careful of her as of a jewel, after his own particular fashion."
"She is a dear creature," said Edith, warmly; "all soul, and heart, and feeling. Thank God, too, she is a Christian, and you cannot fancy, my lord, what marvellous stores of information the little creature has. She knows that England is an island in the middle of the salt sea; and she can write and read our tongue nearly as well as she speaks it. She has a holy hatred of the French, however; and would not, for the world, speak a word of their language; for all her information, and a good share of her ideas, come from our friend, Mr. Gore, who has carried John Bull completely into the heart of the wilderness, and kept him there perfect in a sort of crystallized state. Had we but a few more men such as himself amongst the Indian tribes, there would be no fear of any wavering in the friendship of the Five Nations. There goes an Indian now past the window. We shall have him in here in a moment, for they stand upon no ceremony--and he is speaking to Antony, the negro boy. How curiously he peeps about him! He must be looking for somebody he does not find."
Lord H---- rose and went to the window, and, in a minute or two after, the Indian stalked quietly away, and disappeared in the forest.
"What could he want?" said Edith. "It is strange he did not come in. I will ask Antony what he sought here."
And, going to the door, she called the gardener boy up, and questioned him.
"He want Captain Woodchuck, missy," replied the lad. "He ask if he not lodge here last night. I tell him yes; but Woodchuck go away early this morning, and not come back since. He 'quire very much about him, and who went with him. I tell him Massa Walter and de strange gentleman, but both leave him soon--Massa Walter go straight to Albany, strange gentleman come back here."
"Did he speak English?" asked Edith.
"Few word," replied the negro. "I speak few word Indian. So patch 'em together make many, missy."
And he laughed with that peculiar unmeaning laugh with which his race are accustomed to distinguish anything they consider witty.
The whole conversation was heard by the two gentlemen within. On Mr. Prevost it had no effect, but to call a sort of cynical smile upon his lips; but the case was different with Lord H----. He saw that the deed which had been done in the forest was known to the Indians; that its doer had been recognized, and that the hunt was up; and he rejoiced to think that poor Woodchuck was already far beyond pursuit.
Anxious, however, to gain a fuller insight into the character and habits of a people of whom he had as yet obtained only a glimpse, he continued to converse with Mr. Prevost in regard to the aboriginal races; and learned several facts which by no means tended to decrease the uneasiness which the events of the morning; had produced.
"The Indians," said his host, in answer to a leading question, "are, as you say, a very revengeful people; but not more so than many other barbarous nations. Indeed, in many of their feelings and habits they greatly resemble a people I have heard of in central Asia, called Affghans. Both, in common with almost all barbarians, look upon revenge as a duty imperative upon every family and every tribe. They modify their ideas, indeed, in case of war; although it is very difficult to bring about peace after war has commenced; but if any individual of a tribe is killed by another in time of peace, nothing but the blood of the murderer can satisfy the family or the tribe, if he can be caught. They will pursue him for weeks and months, and employ every stratagem which their fertile brains can suggest to entrap him, till they feel quite certain that he is entirely beyond their reach. This perseverance proceeds from a religious feeling; for they believe that the spirit of their dead relation can never enter the happy hunting-grounds till his blood has been atoned by that of the slayer."
"But if they cannot catch the slayer," asked Lord H----, "what do they do then?"
"I used a wrong expression," replied Mr. Prevost. "I should have said the blood of some other victim. It is their duty, according to their ideas, to sacrifice the slayer. If satisfied that he is perfectly beyond their power, they strive to get hold of his nearest relation. If they cannot do that, they take a man of his tribe or nation, and sacrifice him. It is all done very formally, and with all sorts of consideration and consultation; for in these bloody rites they are the most deliberate people in the world, and the most persevering also."
Lord H---- mused gravely for some moments without reply, and then turned the conversation in another direction. It certainly was not gay; but it was, to all appearance, cheerful enough on his side; for this world is a strange teacher of hypocrisy in all its various shades, from that which is the meanest and most detestable of vices to that which is dignified by its motives and its conduct almost to a virtue. God forbid that I should ever, for a moment, support the false and foul axiom that the end can justify the means. But it is with all evil things as with deadly poisons. There are occasions when, in small portions, they may, for certain diseased circumstances, become precious antidotes. Had man remained pure, perfect, and upright, as he came from the bands of his Creator--had he never doubted God's word, disobeyed his commandments, tasted of that which was forbidden--had disobedience never brought pain and death--had blood never stained the face of earth, and pain in all its shapes followed in the footsteps of sin--there would, indeed, have never been any occasion or any circumstances in which it would have been needful, honourable, or kind for man to hide one feeling of his heart from his fellow-beings. But in this dark, corrupted world, where sickness and sorrow, care, distress, and death surround, not only ourselves, but those who are dearest to us, and hem us in on every side, how often is it needful to hide from those, even, whom we love the best and trust the most, the anxieties which imagination suggests, or to which reason and experience give birth; to conceal, for a time, even the sad and painful facts of which we are cognizant; to shut up our sorrow and our dread in our own bosom, till we have armed and steeled the hearts of those we love better than ourselves, to resist or to endure the evil which is preying on our own.
A few days earlier, Lord H---- might plainly and openly have told all the occurrences of the morning in the ears of Edith Prevost; but sensations had been springing up in his breast, which made him more tender of her feelings, more careful of creating alarm and anxiety; and he kept his painful secret well till after the evening meal was over, and she had retired to her chamber. Then, however, he stopped Mr. Prevost just as that gentleman was raising a light to hand to his guest, and said--
"I am afraid, my good friend, we cannot go to bed just yet. I have something to tell you, which, from all I have heard since it occurred, appears to me of much greater importance than at first. Whether anything can be done to avert the evil consequences or not, I cannot tell; but, at all events, it is as well that you and I should talk the matter over."
He then related to Mr. Prevost all the events of the morning, and was sorry to perceive that gentleman's face assuming a deeper and deeper gloom as he proceeded.
"This is most unfortunate indeed," said Mr. Prevost at length. "I quite acquit our poor friend Brooks of any evil intent; but to slay an Indian at all so near our house, and especially an Oneida, was most unlucky. That tribe, or nation, as they call themselves, has, from the strong personal regard, I suppose, which has grown up accidentally between their chief and myself, always shown the greatest kindness and friendship towards myself and my family. Before this event, I should have felt myself, in any of their villages, as much at home as by my own fireside, and I am sure that each man felt himself as secure on any part of the lands granted to me as if he were in his own lodge. But now their blood has stained my very mat, as they will call it, and the consequences no one can foresee. Woodchuck has himself escaped. He has no relations or friends on whom they can wreak their vengeance."
"Surely," exclaimed Lord H----, "they will never visit his offence on you or yours."
"I trust not," replied Mr. Prevost, after a moment's thought; "yet I cannot feel exactly sure. They will take a white man for their victim--an Englishman--one of the same nation as the offender. Probably it may not matter much to them who it is; and the affectionate regard which they entertain towards us may turn the evil aside. But these Indians have a sort of fanaticism in their religion, as well as we have in ours; the station and the dignity of the victim which they offer up enters into their consideration--they like to make a worthy and an honourable sacrifice, as they consider it; and, just as this spirit moves them or not, they may think that any one will do for their purpose, or that they are required by their god of vengeance to immolate some one dear to themselves, in order to dignify the sacrifice."
"This is, indeed, a very sad view of the affair, and one which had never struck me," replied Lord H----. "It may be well to consider, my dear sir, what is the best and safest course. I must now tell you one of the objects which made me engage your son to carry my despatches to Albany. It seemed to me, from all I have learned during my short residence with you, especially during my conference with Sir William Johnson, that the unprotected state of this part of the country left Albany itself, and the settlements round it, unpleasantly exposed. We know that on a late occasion it was Dieskau's intention, if he had succeeded in defeating Sir William and capturing Fort George, to make a dash at the capital of the province. He was defeated; but there is reason to believe that Montcalm--a man much his superior both in energy and skill--entertained the same views, although we know not what induced him to retreat so hastily after his black and bloody triumph at Fort William Henry. He may seize some other opportunity; and I can perceive nothing whatsoever to oppose his progress, or delay him for an hour, if he can make himself master of the few scattered forts which lie between Carrillon or Ticonderoga. In these circumstances, I have strongly urged that a small force should be thrown forward to a commanding point on the river Hudson, not many miles from this place, which I examined as I came hither--with an advanced post or two, still nearer to your house. My own regiment I have pointed out as better fitted for the service than any other; and I believe that if my suggestions are adopted, as I doubt not they will be, we can give you efficient protection. Still I think," continued the nobleman, speaking more slowly and emphatically, "that, with two young people so justly dear to you--with a daughter so beautiful, and every way so charming; and so gallant and noble a lad as Walter, whose high spirit and adventurous character will expose him continually to any snare that may be set for him, it will be much better for you to retire with them both to Albany; at least till such time as you know that the spirit of Indian vengeance has been satisfied, and that the real peril has passed."
Mr. Prevost mused for several minutes, and then replied:--
"The motives you suggest are certainly very strong, my lord; but I have strange ways of viewing such subjects, and I must have time to consider whether it is fair and right to my fellow-countrymen, scattered over this district, to withdraw from my share of the peril which all who remain would have to encounter. Do not argue with me upon the subject to-night. I will think over it well; and doubt not that I shall view the plan you have suggested with all the favour that paternal love can afford. I will also keep my mind free to receive any further reasons you may have to produce. But I must first consider quietly and alone. There is no need of immediate decision; for these people, according to their own code, are bound to make themselves perfectly sure that they cannot get possession of the actual slayer before they choose another victim. It is clear from what the Indian said to the negro boy, that they know the hand that did the deed, and they must search for poor Brooks first, and practise every device to allure him back before they immolate another. Let us both think over the matter well, and confer to-morrow."
Thus saying, he shook hands with Lord H----, and they retired to their several chambers with very gloomy and apprehensive thoughts.