“Thus he spake, and I was silent. I was guilty. I could not excuse myself, and did not entreat. I felt the truth of his complaint and the justice of his anger. I felt how great had been my folly and my crime. Istakalina was lost to us both. Thus then, a fugitive, and an outlaw from Calos, dreading every moment the vengeance of Wa-ha-la and his warriors, I dwelt for seven years with Onathaqua, who hath ever treated me as a son. I have fought among his warriors, and shared the fortunes of his people, of which nothing more need be said. Tidings at length came to me, of a people in the country bearded like myself. Then came your messengers to Onathaqua, and you behold me here. I looked not for Frenchmen but for Spaniards. I thank and praise the Blessed Mother of God, that I have found friends if not countrymen, and that I see, once more, the faces of a Christian people.”
Thus ended the narrative of Le Barbu, or the Bearded Man of Calos.
Wehave already mentioned that, with the restoration of Laudonniere to power, and the complete subjection of his mutineers, he resumed by degrees his projects of exploration and discovery. Among other places to which he sent his barks, was the territory of King Audusta, occupying that region in which Fort Charles had been erected by Ribault, in the first attempt to colonize in the country. To Audusta, himself, were sent two suits of apparel, with knives, hatchets and other trifles; “the better,” as Laudonniere says, “to insinuate myselfe into his friendship.” To render this hope more plausible, “I sent in the barke, with Captaine Vasseur, a souldier called Aimon, which was one of those which returned home in the first voyage, hoping that King Audusta might remember him.” This Aimon was instructed to inquire after another soldier named Rouffi, who, it appears, had preferred remaining in the country, when it had been abandoned by the colonists under Nicolas Barré.
Audusta received his visitors with great favor,—sent back to Laudonniere a large supply of “mil, with a certaine quantity of beanes, two stagges, some skinnes painted after their manner, and certaine pearles of small value, because they were burnt.” Theold chief invited the Frenchmen once more to remove and plant in his territories. He proffered to give him a great country, and would always supply him with a sufficient quantity of grain. Audusta had known the Frenchmen almost entirely by benefits and good fellowship. The period of this visit to Audusta, which was probably in the month of December, is distinguished in the chronicle of Laudonniere, by expressions of delightful surprise at the number of stock doves (wild pigeons) which came about the garrison—“in so greate number, that, for the space of seven weekes together,” they “killed with harquebush shot at least two hundred every day.” This was good feeding. On the return of Capt. Vasseur from his visit to Audusta, he was sent with a present “unto the widow of Kinge Hiocaia, whose dwelling was distant from our fort about twelve leagues northward. She courteously received our men, sent me backe my barkes, full of mil and acornes, with certaine baskets full of the leaves of cassine, wherewith they make their drinke. And the place where this widow dwelleth, is the most plentifull of mil that is in all the coast, and the most pleasante. It is thought that the queene is the most beautifulof all the Indians, and of whom they make the most account: yea, and her subjects honour her so much that almost continually they beare her on their shoulders, and will not suffer her to go on foot.”
The visit of Laudonniere, through his lieutenant, was returned, in a few days, by the beautiful widow, through her Hiatiqui, “which is as much as to say, her Interpreter.”
Laudonniere continued his explorations, still seeking provisions, and with the view to keeping his people from that idleness which hitherto had caused such injurious discontents in his garrison. His barks were sent up May River, to discover its sources, andmake the acquaintance of the tribes by which its borders were occupied. Thirty leagues beyond the place called Mathiaqua, “they discovered the entrance of a lake, upon the one side whereof no land can be seene, according to the report of the Indians, which had oftentimes climbed on the highest trees in the country to see land, and notwithstanding could not discerne any.”
These few sentences may assist in enabling the present occupants of the St. John’s to establish the location along that river, at the period of which we write. The ignorance of the Indians in regard to the country opposite, along the lake, indicates equally the presence of numerous tribes, and the absence of much adventure or enterprise among them—results that would seem equally to flow from the productive fertility of the soil, and the abundance of the game in the country. With this account of it as aterra incognita, the explorers ceased to advance. In returning, they paid a visit to the island of Edelano—one of those names of the Indians, which harbors in the ear with a musical sweetness which commends it to continued utterance. We should do well to employ it now in connection with some island spot of rare beauty in the same region.
This island of Edelano is “situated in the midst of the river; as fair a place as any that may be seene thorow the world; for, in the space of some three leagues that it may containe, in length and breadth, a man may see an exceedingly rich countrey and marvellously peopled. At the coming out of the village of Edelano, to goe unto the river side, a man must passe thorow an alley about three hundred paces long and fifty paces broad; on both sides whereof great trees are planted, the boughes whereof are tied [blended?] together like an arch, and meet together so artificially [as if done by art] that a man would thinke it were anarbour made of purpose, as faire, I say, as any in all Christendom, although it be altogether naturall.”
Leaving the island of Edelano, thus equally famous for its beauties of nature and name, our voyagers proceeded “to Eneguape, then to Chilily, from thence to Patica, and lastly they came unto Coya.” This place seems to have been, at this period, one of the habitations of the powerful king Olata Utina. In the name Olata, we find an affix such as is common to the Seminoles and Creeks of the present day.Holata, as we now write the word, is evidently the Olata of Laudonniere. It was probably a title rather than a name.[23]Olata Utina received his visitors with great favor, as he had always done before; and six of them were persuaded to remain with him, in order the better to see the country, while their companions returned to La Caroline. Some of these remained with the Indian monarch more than two months. One of them, named Groutald, a gentleman who had taken great pains in this exploration, reported to Laudonniere that he had never seen a fairer country. “Among other things, he reported to me that he had seene a place, named Hostaqua, and that the king thereof was so mighty, that he was able to bring three or four thousand savages into the field.” Of this king we have heard before. It was the counsel of Monsieur Groutald to Laudonniere that he should unite in a league with this king, and by this means reduce the whole country into subjection. “Besides, that this king knew the passages unto the mountaine of Apalatci, which the Frenchmen desired so greatly to attaine unto, and where the enemy of Hostaqua made his abode, which was easie to be subdued, if so be wee would enter into league together.” Hostaquasent to Laudonniere “a plate of a minerall that came out of this mountaine,—out of the foote whereof”—such was the glowing account given by the Indian monarch—“there runneth a streame of golde or copper.” The process by which the red-men obtain the pure treasures of this golden stream was an exceedingly primitive one, and reminds us of the simple process of gathering golden sands in California. “They dig up the sand with an hollow and drie cane of reed, until the cane be full; afterward they shake it, and find that there are many small graines of copper and silver among this sand; which giveth them to understand that some rich mine must needs be in the mountaine.” Laudonniere is greatly impressed by this intelligence, “and because the mountaine was not past five or six days journey from our fort, lying towards the north-west, I determined, as soone as our supply should come out of France, to remove our habitation unto some river more towards the north, that I might be nearer thereunto.”
An incident, which occurred about this time, still further increased the appetites of Laudonniere. He had suffered, and indeed sent, certain favorite soldiers to go into several parts of the country, among the savage tribes with whom he kept terms of amnesty and favor, in order that they should acquire as well a knowledge of the Indian language as of the country. One of these was named Peter Gambier. This man had rambled somewhat farther than his comrades. He had shared in all the more adventurous expeditions of the Indians, and had succeeded in gathering a considerable quantity of gold and silver, all of which was understood to have been directly or indirectly from the Indians, who dwelt at the foot of the Apalachian Mountains. These were tribes of the Cherokee nation, with whom the Indiannations along the sea-board were perpetually at war. Full of news, and burdened with his treasure, Peter Gambier prepared to return to La Caroline. He had made his way in safety until he reached the beautiful island with the beautiful name, Edelano, lying in the midst of but high up May River. On the same stream which was occupied by his countrymen, in force, the thoughtless soldier conceived himself to be quite safe. He was hospitably entertained by the chief or king of Edelano, and a canoe was accorded him, with two companions, with whom to descend the river to the fort. But the improvident Frenchman, allowed his precious treasures to glitter in the eyes of his host. He had not merely gold and silver, but he had been stocked with such European merchandises as were supposed most likely to tempt the savages to barter. A portion of this stock remained in his possession. The natural beauties of the island which they occupied had not softened the hearts of the savages with any just sense of humanity. They were as sensible to theauri sacra famesas were the Europeans, and just as little scrupulous, we shame to say it, in gratifying their appetites as their pale-faced visitors. The possessions of the Frenchmen were sufficient to render the Mico of Edelano indifferent to all considerations of hospitality, and the two Indians whom he lent to Gambier were commissioned to take his life. Thus, accompanied by his assassins, he entered the canoe, and they were in progress down the river, when, as the Frenchman stooped over some fish which he was seething in the boat, the red-men seized the opportunity to brain him with their stone hatchets, and possess themselves of his treasures. When the tidings came to Laudonniere, he was not in a situation to revenge the crime; but the large acquisitions of gold and silver procured by his soldier, as reported to him,confirmed him in his anxiety to penetrate these tantalizing realms, in which the rivers ran with such glittering abundance from rocks whose caverns promised to outvie all that Arabian story had ever fabled of the magical treasures of Aladdin.
Scarcely had this event taken place, when the war was renewed between Olata Utina and Potanou. The former applied for assistance to Laudonniere, who, adopting the policy of the “Spaniards, when they were imployed in their conquests, who did alwayes enter into alliance with some one king to ruine another,” readily sent him thirty arquebusiers, under Lieutenant Ottigny. These, with three hundred Indians, led by Utina, penetrated the territories of Potanou, and had a severe fight, which lasted for three hours, with the people of that potentate. “Without doubt, Utina had been defeated, unlesse our harquebusiers had borne the burthen and brunt of all the battell, and slaine a great number of the soldiers of Potanou, upon which occasion they were put to flight.” The lieutenant of the French would have followed up the victory, but Utina, the Paracoussi, had gathered laurels quite enough for a single day, and was anxious to return home to show his scalps and enjoy his triumphs among his people. His tribes and villages were assembled at his return, and, for several days, nothing but feasts, songs and dances, employed the nation. Ottigny returned to the fort, after two days spent in this manner with Utina, and his return was followed by visits from numerous other chiefs, nearer neighbors than Utina, and enemies of that savage, who came to expostulate with Laudonniere against his lending succor to a prince who was equally faithless and selfish. They, on the other hand, entreated him to unite with them in the destruction of one who was a common enemy. This application had been made to him before;but his policy had been rather to maintain terms of alliance, offensive and defensive, with a powerful chieftain, at some little distance, than to depend wholly upon others more near at hand. This policy was again drawn from that of the Spaniard. He was soon to be taught how little was the reliance which he could place in any of the forest tribes. He was about to suffer from those deficiencies and evils which were due to his anxious explorations of the country, when his people had been much better employed in the wholesome labors of the field, in the very eye of the garrison.
It was the custom of the Indian tribes, after the gathering and storing away of their harvests, to commence hunting with the first fall of the leaves, probably about the middle of September. The chase, during this period, was seldom such as to carry them far from the fields which they had watched during the summer. Near at hand, for a season at least, the game was in sufficient quantity to supply their wants. But, as the season advanced, and towards the months of January, February and March, they gradually passed into the deeper thickets, and disappeared from their temporary habitations. During this period, they build up new abodes, which are equally frail, in the regions to which they go, and which are contiguous to the hunting-grounds which they are about to penetrate. To these retreats the whole tribe retires; and hither they carry all the commodities which are valuable in their eyes. Their summer dwellings are thus as completely stripped as if the region were abandoned forever.
This removal, for which their previous experience should sufficiently have prepared our Frenchmen, was yet destined to have for them some very pernicious results. We have seen that certain subsidies of corn and beans had been procured fromvarious tribes and nations; enough, according to Laudonniere, to serve them until the arrival of expected succors from France. But, calculating on these succors, and confident of their arrival during the month of April, our Frenchmen had become profligate of their stores. April found them straitened for provisions, and not an Indian could be seen. April passed slowly and brought no succor. With the month of May the Indians had returned to their former abodes; but, by this time, their remaining stock of grain had mostly found its way into the ground, in the setting of another crop. From the savages, accordingly, nothing but scanty supplies of fish could be procured, without which, says Laudonniere, “assuredly wee had perished from famine.” Of the incompetence of this captain, and the wretched order which prevailed among his garrison, his incapacity and other incompetence, this statement affords sufficient proof. They neither tilled the earth for its grain, nor sounded the river for its finny tribes; though these realms were quite as much under their dominion as that of the savages; but they relied solely upon this capricious and inferior race, in the exploration of land and sea, for maintaining them against starvation.
May succeeded to April, and still in vain did our Frenchmen look forth upon the sea, for the ships of their distant countrymen. June came, and their wants increased. They fell finally into famine, of which Laudonniere himself affords us a sufficiently impressive picture.
“We were constrayned to eate rootes, which the most part of our men punned in the mortars which I had brought with me to beate gunnepowder in, and the graine which came to us from other places. Some tooke the wood ofesquine, (?) beate it, and made meale thereof, which they boiled with water, and eate it.Others went with their harquebusies to seeke to kill some foule. Yea, this miserie was so great, that that one was founde that had gathered up all the fish-bones that he could finde, which he dried and beate into powder to make bread thereof. The effects of this hidious famine appeared incontinently among us, for our bones eftsoones beganne to cleave so neare unto the skinne, that the most part of the souldiers had their skinnes pierced thorow with them in many partes of their bodies, in such sort that my greatest feare was, least the Indians would rise up against us, considering that it would have beene very harde for us to have defended ourselves in such extreme decay of all our forces, besides the scarsitie of all vittualls, which fayled us all at once. For the very river had not such plentie of fish as it was wont, and it seemed that the very land and water did fight against us.” In this condition were they till the beginning of June. “During which time,” says the chronicler, further—“the poore souldiers and handicraftsmen became as feeble as might be, and being not able to worke, did nothing but goe, one after another, as centinels, unto the clift of an hill, situate very neare unto the fort, to see if they might discover any French ship.”
But their watchings still ended with disappointment. Thus was the hope with which the heart sickens, deferred too long. No ships greeted their famishing eyes, and they at length appealed to their commander, in a body, to take measures for returning to France, and abandoning the colony,—“considering that if wee let passe the season to embarke ourselves, wee were never like to see our country;” and alleging, plausibly enough, that new troubles had probably broken out in France, which was the reason that they had failed to receive the promised succors. Laudonniere lent an easy ear to their demands. He, himself, wasprobably quite as sick of the duties, to which he was evidently unequal, as were his followers. It was, perhaps, prudent to submit to those for whom he could no longer provide. The bark “Breton” was fitted up, and given in charge to Captain Vasseur; and, as this vessel could carry but a small portion of the colony, it was determined to build a “faire ship,” which the shipwrights affirmed could be made ready by the 8th of August. “Immediately I disposed of the time to worke upon it. I gave charge to Monsieur de Ottigny, my lieutenant, to cause timber necessary for the finishing of bothe the vessels to be brought, and to Monsieur D’Erlach, my standard-bearer, to goe with a barke a league off from the forte, to cut down trees fit to make plankes.” Sixteen men, under the charge of a sergeant, were set “to labour in making coals; and to Master Hance, keeper of the artillery,” was assigned the task of procuring rosin to bray the vessels. “There remained now but the principal, [object,] which was to recover vittualls, to sustain us while the worke endured.” Laudonniere, himself, undertook to seek for this supply. He embarked with thirty men in the largest of his vessels, with the purpose of running along the coast for forty or fifty leagues. But his search was taken in vain. He procured no supplies. He returned to the fort only to defraud the expectations of his people, who now grew desperate with hunger and discontent. They assembled together, riotously, and, with one voice, insisted that the only process by which to extort supplies from the savages was to seize upon the person of their kings.
To this, at first, Laudonniere would not consent. The enterprise was a rash one. The consequences might be evil, in regard to any future attempts at settlement. He proposed one more trial among them, and sent despatches communicating his desire totraffic for food with the surrounding tribes. The Indians were not averse to listen. But they knew the distress under which the Frenchmen suffered, and were prepared to turn it to account. They came into the garrison with small supplies of grain and fish, enough to provoke appetite rather than to satisfy it. For these they demanded such enormous prices, as, if conceded, would have soon exhausted all the merchandise of the garrison. With one hand they extended their produce, while the other was stretched for the equivalent required. Knowing the desperation of the Frenchmen, they took care, while thus tantalizing their hopes and hunger, to keep out of reach of shot of arquebuse. In this way, they took the very shirts from the backs of the starving soldiers. When Laudonniere remonstrated against their prices, their answer was a bitter mockery.
“Very good,” said the savages, “if thou make such great account of thy merchandise, let it stay thy hunger. Do thou eat of it and we will eat of our fish.” This reply would be cheered with their open-throated laughter. The old ally of the French, the Paracoussi Utina, mocked them in like manner. His subjects followed his example; and, in the end, goaded to madness, Laudonniere resolved on adopting the course which his people had counselled; that, by which, taking one of their kings prisoner, food could be extorted for his ransom. The ingratitude of Utina, for past services, a recent attempt which he had made to employ the French soldiers in his own conquests, while professing to lead them only where they should find provisions, and the supposed extent of his resources, pointed him out to all parties as the proper person upon whom to try the experiment, on a small scale, which Cortez and Pizzarro had used, on a large one, in the conquest of Peru and Mexico.
Of the captivity of the Great Paracoussi—Olata Ouvae Utina, and the war which followed between his people and the French.
Of the captivity of the Great Paracoussi—Olata Ouvae Utina, and the war which followed between his people and the French.
It being determined by Laudonniere, in the necessities of his people, to seize upon the person of the great Paracoussi, Olata Ouvae Utina, in order, by the ransom which he should extort, to relieve the famine which prevailed among the garrison, he proceeded to make his preparations for the event. Two of his barks were put in order for this purpose, and a select body of fifty men was chosen from his ranks to accompany him on the expedition. But this select body, though the very best men of the garrison, exhibited but few external proofs of their adequacy for the enterprise. So lean of flesh, so shrunk of sinew, so hollow-eyed were they, that their picture recals to us the description given by Shakspeare of the famished and skeleton regiments of Henry of Monmouth at the famous field of Agincourt—‘A poor and starved band,’ the very ‘shales and husks of men,’ with scarcely blood enough in all their veins, to stain the Indian hatchet, which they travel to provoke. But famine endows the sinews with a vigor of its own. Hunger enforced to the last extremities of nature, clothes the spirit of the man in thepassions of the wolf and tiger. Lean and feeble as are our Frenchmen, they are desperate. They are in the mood to brave the forest chief in his fastnesses, and to seize upon his own heart, in the lack of other food. The very desperation of their case secures them against any misgivings.
The dominions of Holata Utina were distant from La Caroline, between forty and fifty leagues up the river. His chief town, where he dwelt, lay some six more leagues inland, a space over which our Frenchmen had to march. Leaving a sufficientguard in their vessels, Laudonniere and his company landed and proceeded in this quarter. He marched with caution, for he knew his enemy. His advance was conducted by Alphonse D’Erlach, his standard-bearer—one, whose experience and skill had been too frequently tried to leave it doubtful that his conduct would be a safe one. He had traversed the space before, and he knew the route thoroughly. The progress was urged with as much secrecy as caution. The cover of the woods was carefully maintained, the object of the party being a surprise. They well knew that Utina had but little expectation of seeing them, at this juncture, in his own abodes. None, so well as himself, knew how feeble was their condition, how little competent to any courageous enterprise. They succeeded in appearing at the village of the chief without provoking alarm. He himself was at home, sitting in state in the royal wigwam, with but few warriors about him. The fashion of the Indian, with less royal magnificence, in other words, with less art and civilization—is not greatly unlike that of the Turk. Olata Utina sat crossed legs upon adaisprepared of dressed skins of the deer, the bear and panther. The spotted hides hung over the raised portions of the seat which he kept, upon which also might be seen coverlets of cotton ingeniouslymanufactured, and richly stained with the bright crimson, scarlet, and yellow, of native dye-woods. This art of dyeing, the savages had brought to a comparatively high state of perfection. His house itself stood upon an artificial eminence of earth, raised in the very centre of his village, and overlooking it on every hand. It was an airy structure, with numerous openings, and the breeze played sweetly and capriciously among the coverlets which hung as curtains before the several places of egress and entrance. Utina himself was a savage of noble size and appearance. He carried himself with the ease and dignity of one born to the purple. His form, though an old man, was still unbending and tall. His countenance was one of great spirit and nobleness. With forehead equally large and high, with a dark eye that flashed with all the fires of youth, with lips that opened only to discourse in tones of a sweet but majestic eloquence, and with a shrewd sagacity, that made him, among a cunning people, a recognised master of all the arts of the serpent, he was necessarily a person to impress with respect and admiration those even who came with hostility.
It is probable that Utina knew nothing of the approach of the Frenchmen, until it was too late to escape them. But, before they entered the opened space assigned to the settlement, he was advised of their coming. Then it was that he threw aside his domestic habit and assumed his state. Then it was that he resumed his dignity and ascended thedaisof stained cotton and flowing deer-skin. His turban of purple and yellow cotton was bound skilfully about his brow, his bow and quiver lay beside him, while at his feet was extended his huge macana, or war-club, which it scarcely seemed possible that his aged hands should now grasp with vigor sufficient for its formidable use. His hands, when theFrenchmen entered the dwelling, held nothing more formidable than the earthen pipe, and the long tubulated reed which he busied himself in inserting within the bowl. Two of his attendant warriors retired at the same moment. These, Laudonniere did not think proper to arrest, though counselled to do so by D’Erlach. He knew not that they had been despatched by the wily Paracoussi for the purpose of gathering his powers for resistance.
Laudonniere appeared in the royal wigwam with but ten companions. Forty others had been dispersed by D’Erlach at proper points around the village. Of their proximity the king knew nothing. His eye took in, at a single glance, the persons of his visitors; and a slight smile, that looked derisive, was seen to overspread his visage. It was with something like good humor in his tones that he gave them welcome. A page at the same time brought forth a basket of wicker-work, which contained a large collection of pipes of all sorts and sizes. Another basket afforded a sufficient quantity of dried leaves of the tobacco and vanilla. The Paracoussi nodded to his guests as the boy presented both baskets, and Laudonniere, with two others of his company, helped themselves to pipes and weed. Thus far nothing had been said but “Ami,” and “Bonjour.” The welcome of the Indians was simple always, and a word sufficed among them as amply as the most studied and verbose compliment. The French had learned to imitate them in this respect, to be sparing of words, and to restrain the expression of their emotions, particularly when these indicated want or suffering.
But the necessities of our Frenchmen were too great and pressing, at the present time, to be silenced wholly by convention; and when, as if in mockery, a small trencher of parched corn was setbefore them, with a vessel of water, the impatience of Laudonniere broke into utterance.
“Paracoussi Utina,” said he, “you have long known the want which has preyed upon our people.”
“My brother is hungry,” replied Utina, with a smile more full of scorn than sweetness—“let my brother eat. Let his young men eat. There is never famine among the people of Utina.”
“And if there be no want among the people of Utina, wherefore is it that he suffers the French to want? Why has he forgotten his allies? Did not my young men fight the battles of Utina against the warriors of the mighty Potanou? Did not many captives grace the triumph of Utina? Has the Paracoussi forgotten these services? Why does he turn away from his friends, and show himself cold to their necessities?”
“Why will my pale brother be talking?” said the other, with a most lordly air of indifference. “The people of Utina have fought against the warriors of Potanou for more than a hundred winters. My French brother is but a child in the land of the red-people. What does he know of the triumphs of my warriors? He saw them do battle once with the tribes of Potanou, and he makes account because he then fought on behalf of my people. My people have fought with the people of Potanou more than a hundred battles. Our triumphs have been witnessed by every bird that flies, every beast that runs, every fish that swims, between the villages of Potanou and the strong house of the Frenchman where he starves below. What more will our pale brother say, being thus a child among the red-men?”
“Why parley with the savage?” said Alphonse D’Erlach, “if you mean to take him? I care not for his insolence whichchafes me nothing; but we lose time. You have suffered some of his warriors to depart. They are gone, doubtless, to gather the host together. We shall need all the time to carry our captive safely to the boats.”
These words were spoken aloud, directly in the rear of Utina, D’Erlach having taken a place behind him in the conference. The Paracoussi was startled by the language. Some of it was beyond his comprehension. But he could not misunderstand the tone and manner of the speaker. D’Erlach was standing above him, with his hand stretched over him, and ready to grasp his victim the moment the word should be spoken. His slight form and youthful features, contrasted with the cold, inflexible expression of his eyes and face, very forcibly impressed the imagination of the Indian monarch, as, turning at the interruption, he looked up at the person of the speaker. But, beyond the first single start which followed the interruption, Utina gave no sign of surprise or apprehension.
“Awhile, awhile, Alphonse—be not too hasty, my son;” was the reply of Laudonniere. He continued, addressing himself to the Paracoussi:
“My red brother thinks he understands the French. He is mistaken. He will grow wiser before he grows much older. But it will be time then that I should teach him. It matters now only, that I should say to the Paracoussi Utina,we want, and you have plenty. We have fought your battles. We are your friends. We will trade with you for mil and beanes. Give us of these, according to our need, and you shall have of the merchandize of the French in just proportion. Let it be so, brother, that peace may still flourish between our people.”
“There is mil and beanes before my white brother. Let him take and divide among his people.”
“But this will not suffice for a single meal. Does the Paracoussi laugh to scorn the sufferings of my people?”
“The Paracoussi laughs because the granaries of the red-men are full. There is no famine amonghispeople. Hath the Great Spirit written that the red-man shall gather food in the proper season that the white man may sleep like the drowsy buffalo in the green pasture? Let my white brother drive from his ear the lying bird that sings to him: ‘Sleep—take thy slumber under the pleasant shade tree, while the people of Utina get thee food!’”
“Would the Paracoussi make the Frenchmen his enemies? Is their anger nothing? Is their power not a thing to be feared?”
“And what is the Paracoussi Olata Ovae Utina? Hath he not many thousand warriors? The crane that rises in the east in the morning, though he flies all day, compasses not the land at sunset, which belongs to my dominions. East and west my people whoop like the crane, and hear no birds that answer but their own. Let my pale brother hush, for he speaks a foolish thing of his warriors. Did I dream, or did any runners tell me that the bones of the Frenchmen break through the skin, lacking food, and their sinews are so shrunken that they can never more strive in battle? Who shall fear them? I had pity on my brother when I heard these things. I sent him food, and bade my people say—‘take this food which thou needest; the great Paracoussi asks for nothing in recompense, but thy guns, thy swords, and thy lances; weapons which they tell me thou hast strength to use no longer.’”
“Did they tell thee so, Utina? But thou shalt see. Oncemore, my brother, I implore thee to give us of thy abundance, and we will cheerfully impart to thee from our store of knives, reap-hooks, hatchets, mirrors, and lovely beads, such as will delight thy women. Here, behold,—this is some of the treasure which I have brought thee for the purposes of barter.”
The lordly chieftain deigned not a single glance to the European wares, which, at a word from Laudonniere, one of the French soldiers laid at his feet. The French captain, as if loth to proceed to extremities, continued to entreat; while every new appeal was only answered, on the part of the savage prince, with a new speech of scorn, and new gestures of contempt. At length, Laudonniere’s patience was exhausted, and he gave the signal which had been agreed upon with his lieutenant. In the next moment, the quick grasp of Alphonse D’Erlach was laid upon the Paracoussi’s shoulders. He attempted to rise, and to grasp, at the same time, the macana which lay at his feet. But D’Erlach kept him down with his hands, while his foot was struck down upon the macana. In that moment, the war-conch was sounded at the entrance by several Indians who had been in waiting. It was caught up and echoed by the bugles of D’Erlach; the blast of which had scarcely been heard throughout the village, before it had been replied to, four several times, from as many different points where the French force had been stationed, ten soldiers in each. One desperate personal struggle which the Paracoussi made, proved fruitless to extricate him from the grasp of his captor; and he then sat quietly, without a word, coldly looking his enemies in the face.
Thecaptive Paracoussi lost none of his dignity in his captivity. He scorned entreaty. He betrayed no symptom of fear. That he felt the disgrace which had been put upon him, was evident in the close compression of his lips; but he was sustained by the secret conviction that his warriors were gathering, and that they would rescue him from his captors by the overwhelming force of their numbers. At first his stoicism was shared by his family and attendants; but when Laudonniere declared his purpose to remove his prisoner to the boats, then the clamors of women, not less eloquent in the wigwam of the savage, than in the household of the pale faces, became equally wild and general. The Paracoussi had but one wife, foregoing, in this respect, some of his princely privileges, to which the customs of the red-men afforded a sufficient sanction. But there were many females in the royal dwelling, all of whom echoed the tumultuous cries ofits mistress. This devoted woman, with her attendants, accompanied the captive to the boats, where, following the precautions adopted by D’Erlach, the Frenchmen arrived in safety. The warriors of the red-men had not yet time to gather and array themselves. Laudonniere gave the women and immediate companions of the Paracoussi to understand that his purpose was not to do his captive any injury. The French were hungry and must have food. When a sufficient supply was brought them, Olata Utina should be set free.
But these assurances they did not believe. They themselves, seldom set free their captives. Ordinarily, they slew all their male prisoners taken by surprise or in war, reserving the young females only. They naturally supposed, that what was thecustom with them, founded upon sufficient reasons, at once of fear and superstition, must be the custom with the white men also. Accordingly, the queen of Utina, was not to be comforted. She followed him to the river banks, clinging to him to the last, and stood there ringing her hands and filling the air with her shrieks, while the people of Laudonniere lifted him into the bark, and pushed out to the middle of the river. It was well for them that this precaution was taken. The warriors of the Paracoussi were already gathering in great numbers. More than five hundred of them showed themselves on the banks of the river, entreating of Laudonniere to draw nigh that they might behold their prince. They brought tidings that, taking advantage of his captivity, the inveterate Potanou had suddenly invaded his chief village, had sacked and fired it, destroying all the persons whom he encountered. But Laudonniere was properly suspicious, and soon discovered, that, while five hundred archers showed themselves to him as suppliants, the shores were lined with thrice five hundred in snug ambush, lying close for the signal of attack. Failing to beguile the Frenchmen to the land, a few of them, in small canoes, ventured out to the bark in which their king was a prisoner, bringing him food—meal and peas, and their favorite beverage, the cassina tea. Small supplies were brought to the Frenchmen also; but without softening their hearts. Laudonniere had put his price upon the head of his captive, and would ’bate nothing of his ransom.
But it so happened, that the Indians were quite as suspicious and inflexible as the Frenchmen. They believed that Laudonniere only aimed to draw from them their stores, and then destroy their sovereign. A singular circumstance, illustrative of the terrible relations in which all savage tribes must stand towardeach other, even when they dwell together in near neighborhood, occurred at this time, and increased the doubts and fears of the people of Utina. As soon as it was rumored about that this mighty potentate, whom they all so much dreaded, was a prisoner to the white man, the chiefs of the hostile tribes gathered to the place of his captivity, as the inhabitant of the city goes to behold in the menagerie the great lion of Sahara, the lord of the desert, of whom, when free in his wild ranges, it shook their hearts only to hear the roar. With head erect, though with chains about his limbs,—with heart haughty, though with hope humbled to the dust—the proud Paracoussi sate unmoved while they gathered, gazing upon him with a greedy malice that declared a long history of scorn and tyranny on the one hand, and hate and painful submission on the other. They walked around the lordly savage, scarcely believing their eyes, and still with a secret fear, lest, in some unlucky moment, he should break loose from his captivity, and resume his weapon for the purposes of vengeance. Eagerly and earnestly did they plead with Laudonniere either to put him to death, or to deliver him to their tender mercies. Among those who came to see and triumph over his ancient enemy, and, if possible, to get him into his power, was the Paracoussi Satouriova, one of Laudonniere’s first acquaintances, whose power, perhaps, along the territories of May River, was only next to that of Utina. He, as well as the rest of the chiefs, brought bribes of maize and beans, withheld before, in order to persuade Laudonniere to yield to their desires. In this way he procured supplies, much beyond those which were furnished by the people of the prisoner, though still greatly disproportioned to his wants. The people of Utina, meanwhile, persuaded that their monarch could not escape the sacrifice, and aware of the several and stronginfluences brought to bear upon his captors, proceeded to do that which was likely to defeat all the hopes and calculations of the French. Their chiefs assembled in the Council House, assuming that Utina was dead already, and elected another for their sovereign, from among his sons. The measure was a hasty one, ill considered, and promised to lead to consequences the most injurious to the nation. The new prince immediately took possession of the royal wigwam, and began the full assertion of his authority. Parties were instantly formed among the tribes, from among the many who were dissatisfied with this assumption, and, but for the great efforts of the nobles of the country, the chiefs, the affair would have found its finish in a bloody social war; since, already had one of the near kinsmen of Olata Utina set up a rival claim to the dominion of his people.
But, it was sufficient that the election of the son of their captive, to the throne of his father, rendered unavailing the bold experiment of the Frenchmen, and threatened to defeat all the hopes which they had founded on the securing his person. The savages had adopted the most simple of all processes, and the most satisfactory, by which to baffle the invaders. Olata Utina was an old man, destined, in the ordinary course of nature, to give way in a short time to the very successor they had chosen. Why should they make any sacrifices to procure the freedom of one whom they did not need. Their reverence for royalty in exile was hardly much greater than it is found to-day in civilized Europe; and they resigned themselves to the absence of Olata Utina with a philosophy duly proportioned to the quantities of corn and peas which they should save by the happy thought which had already found a successor to his sway. In due degree with their resignation to the chapter of accidents, however, wasthe mortification of our Frenchmen, who thus found themselves cut off from all the hopes which they had built upon their bold proceeding. They had made open enemies of a powerful race, without reaping those fruits of their offence, which might have reconciled them to its penalties. Still they suffered in camp as well as in garrison, from want of food, and were allowed to entertain no expectations from the anxieties of the savages in regard to the fate of the captive monarch. His importance naturally declined in the elevation of his successor. Whether governed by policy or indifference, his people betrayed but little sympathy in his condition; and though keeping him still in close custody, treating him with kindness the while, Laudonniere was compelled to seek elsewhere for provisions. Apprised by certain Indians that, in the higher lands above, but along the river, there were some fields of maize newly ripening, he took a detachment of his men in boats and proceeded thither. Coming to a village called Enecaque, he was hospitably entertained by the sister of Utina, by whom it was governed. She gave him good cheer, a supper of mil, beans, and fish, with gourds of savory tea, made of cassina. Here it was found that the maize was indeed ripe: but the hungry Frenchmen suffered by the discovery and their own rapacity. They fastened upon it in its fresh state, without waiting for the slow process of cooking, to disarm it of its hurtful juices, and they became sick accordingly. Yet how could men be reproached for excess, who had scarcely eaten for four days, and for whom a portion of the food that silenced hunger during this time, consisted of a dish of young puppies newly whelped.
While on this expedition, it occurred to Laudonniere to revenge upon the lord of Edelano, the cruel murder of his soldier, Peter Gambier, whose story has been given in previous pages.He was now drawing nigh to that beautiful island; and after leaving Enecaque, he turned his prows in search of its sweet retreats. But, with all his caution, the bird had flown. The lord of Edelano had been advised of what he had to fear, and, at the approach of the Frenchmen he disappeared, crossing the stream between, to the opposite forests, and leaving his village at the mercy of the enemy. Baffled of their revenge upon the offender, the Frenchmen vented their fury upon his empty dwellings. The torch was applied to the village, which was soon consumed. Returning to Enecaque, Laudonniere swept its fields of all their grain, with which he hastened back to his starving people at La Caroline. These, famishing still, “seeing me afar off coming, ranne to that side of the river where they thought I would come on land; for hunger so pinched them to the heart, that they could not stay until the victuals were brought them to the fort. And that they well showed as soon as I was come, and had distributed that little maize among them which I had given to each man, before I came out of the barke; for they eate it before they had taken it out of the huske.”
The necessity of the garrison continued as great as ever. The wretched fields of the red-men afforded very scanty supplies. Other villages were sought and ransacked, those of Athoré, swayed by King Emola, and those of a Queen named Nia Cubacani. In ravaging the fields of the former, two of the Frenchmen were slain. But the provisions got from Queen Nia Cubacani, were all free gifts. The pale faces seem to have been favorites with the female sovereigns wherever they went. In the adventures of the Huguenots, as in those of the Spaniards under Hernan de Soto and other chiefs, the smiles of the Apalachian women seemed to have been bestowed as freely as were the darts andarrows of their lords and masters. In this way was the path of enterprise stripped of many of its thorns, and he whose arm was ever lifted against the savage man, seldom found the heart of the savage woman shut against his approach. This is a curious history, but it seems to mark usually the fortunes of the superior, invading the abodes of the inferior people. The women of a race are always most capable of appreciating the social morals of a superior.
The Paracoussi Olata Utina, now made an effort to obtain his liberty. The hopes of the Frenchmen, in respect to his ransom, had failed. His people had shown a stubbornness, which, to do the Indian monarch justice, had not been greater than his own. He saw the poverty and distress which prevailed among his captors, in spite of all their attempts at concealment. He saw that the lean and hungry famine was still preying upon their hearts. He said toLaudonniere—
“Of what avail is it to you or to me, that you hold me here a captive? Take me to my people. The maize is probably ripened in my fields. One of these shall be set aside for your use wholly, with all its store of corn and beans, if you will set me free in my own country.”
Laudonniere consulted with his chief men. They concurred in granting the petition of the Paracoussi. The two barks were accordingly fitted out, and, with a select detachment, Laudonniere proceeded with his captive to a place called Patica, some eight or nine leagues distant from the village of Utina. The red-men fled at their approach, seeking cover in the forests, though their king, himself, cried to them to await his coming. To pursue them was impossible. To trust the king out of their possession, without any equivalent, was impolitic. Another plan waspursued. One of the sons of the Paracoussi, a mere boy, had been taken with his father. It was now determined to dismiss this boy to the village, accompanied by one of the Frenchmen, who had been thither before, and who knew the character and condition of the country. His instructions were to restore the boy to his mother and his kindred, and to say that his father should be delivered also, if an adequate supply of provisions was brought to the vessel. The ancient chronicle, briefly, but very touchingly, describes the welcome which was given to the enfranchised child. All were delighted to behold him, the humblest making as much of him as if he had been the nearest kindred, and each man thinking himself never so happy as when permitted to touch him with his hand. The wife of Utina, with her father, came to the barks of the Frenchmen, bringing bread for the present wants of the company; but the policy of the Indians did not suffer the pleadings of the woman to prevail. The parties could not agree about the terms of ransom; the red-men, meanwhile, practised all their arts to delay the departure of the vessels. It was discovered that they were busy with their forest strategy, seeking rather to entrap the captain of the French, than to bargain for the recovery of their own chieftain. Laudonniere was compelled finally to return with his prisoner to La Caroline, as hungry as ever, and with no hopes of the future.
Here, a new danger awaited the captive. Furious at their disappointment, the starving Frenchmen, as soon as the failure of the enterprise was known, armed themselves, and with sword and matchlock assailed the little cavalcade which had the chief in custody, as they were about to disembark. With gaunt visages and staring eyes, that betrayed terribly the cruel famine under which they were perishing, and cries of such terrible wrath, asleft but little doubt of the direst purpose, they darted upon their prey. But Laudonniere manfully interposed himself, surrounded by his best men, between their rage and his victim. Captain La Vasseur and Ensign D’Erlach, each seized upon a mutineer whom they held ready to slay at a stroke given; and other good men and true, coming to the rescue, the famishing mutineers were shamed and frightened into forbearance. But bitterly did they complain of the lack of wisdom in their captain, who had released the son, the precious hope of the nation, retaining the sire, for whom, having a new king, the savages cared nothing. Their murmurs drove Laudonniere forth once more. Taking the Paracoussi with him, after a brief delay, he proceeded to explore other villages along the river. The red-men planted two crops during the growing season. Their maize ripened gradually, and fields that yielded nothing during one month, were in full grain in that ensuing. For fifteen days the French commandant continued his explorations with small success; when the Paracoussi, whom nothing had daunted, of his proper and haughty firmness, during all his captivity, once more appealed to his captors:
“That my people did not supply you with maize and beanes when you sought them last, was because they were not ripe. I spake to you then as a foolish young man, anxious to set foot once more among my people. I should have known that the grain could not be ready then for gathering. But the season is now. It is ripened everywhere, and, in the present abundance of my people, they will gladly yield to your demands, and give full ransom for their king. Take me thither then, once more, and my people will not stick to give you ample victual.”
The necessities of the French were too great to make them hesitate at a renewal of the attempt, where all others had proved soprofitless; particularly when the old king, with some solemnity, placing his hand upon the wrist of the French captain, said tohim—
“Brother, doubt me not—doubt not my people. If they answer thee not to thy expectations as well as mine, bring me back to thy people, and let them do with me even as they please?”
Again was the Paracoussi brought into the presence of his subjects. They assembled to meet him on the banks of a little river, which emptied into the main stream, and to which Laudonniere had penetrated in his vessels. They appeared with considerable supplies of bread, fish and beans, which they shared among the Frenchmen. They put on the appearance of great good feeling and friendship, and entered into the negotiations for the release of their king, with equal frankness and eagerness. But in all this they exhibited only the consummate hypocrisy of their race;—a hypocrisy not to be wondered at or complained of, as it is the only natural defence which a barbarous people can ever possibly oppose to the superior power of civilization. Their effort was simply still so to beguile the Frenchmen, as to ensnare their leader,—gethimwithin their power, and then compel an exchange with his people of chief for chief. For this purpose they prolonged the negotiations. Small supplies of food, enough to provoke expectation, without satisfying demand, were brought daily to their visitors. But, in the meantime, their warriors began to accumulate along the shores, covered in the neighboring thickets, or crouching in patient watch along the reedy tracts that fringed the river. The vigilant eye of Alphonse D’Erlach soon detected the ambush; and at length, finding Laudonniere preparing to leave them, still keeping their king a captive, the savagesresumed their negotiations with more activity, and withdrew their archers from the neighborhood.
It must not be supposed that their love for their monarch was small, because they showed themselves so slow in bringing the humble ransom of corn and beans, which the French demanded. To them, that ransom was by no means insignificant. It swept their granaries. It took the food from their children. It drove them into the woods in winter without supplies, leaving them to the rigors of the season, the uncertainties of the chase, and with no other dependence than the common mast of the forest. It deprived them of the very seed from which future harvests were to be gathered. The drain for the supply of the hungry mouths at La Caroline, seemed to them perpetual, and Laudonniere aimed now not only to meet the wants of the present, but to store ships and fort against future necessities. It was of the last importance to the people of Olata Utina, that they should recover their king without subjecting their people to the horrors of such a famine as was preying upon the vitals of the Frenchmen.
They over-reached Laudonniere at last. They persuaded him that the presence of the king, among his people, was necessary to compel each man to bring in his subsidy;—that they must see him, in his former abodes, freed entirely from bonds, before they would recognize his authority;—that they feared, when they should have brought their grain, that the French would still retain their captive;—and, in short, insisted so much upon the freedom of Utina, as thesine quâ non, that the doubts of Laudonniere were overcome. It was agreed that two chiefs should become hostages for Olata Utina, and, in guaranty of the fulfilment of his pledges.
We are not told of the exact amount of ransom required forthe surrender of their king. It was probably enormous, according to the equal standards of Indian and Frenchmen, in this period and region. Willingly came the two chiefs to take the place of Olata Utina. They were admitted on board the bark, where he was kept in chains. They were warriors, and as they approached him, they broke their bows and arrows across, and threw them before him: Then, as they beheld his bonds, they rushed to his feet, lifted up and kissed his chains, and supported them, while the Frenchmen unlocked them from the one captive to transfer them to the hands and feet of those who came to take his place. These looked not upon the bonds as they were riveted about their limbs. They only watched the movements of their king with eyes that declared a well-satisfied delight. He rose from his place, and shook himself slowly, as a lion might be supposed to do, rousing himself after sleep. Never was head so erect, or carriage so like one who feels all his recovered greatness. He waved his hand in signal to the shore, where hundreds of his people were assembled to greet his deliverance.
The signal was understood, a mantle of fringed and gorgeously-dyed cotton was brought him by one of his sons. His macana, or war-club, and a mighty bow from which he could deliver a shaft more than five English feet in length, were also brought him. Over his shoulder the mantle was thrown by one of his attendants. The war-club was carried before him by a page. But, before he left the vessel, he bent his bow, fixed one of the shafts upon the deer sinews, which formed the cord, and drawing it to its head, sent it high in air, until it disappeared for a few seconds from the sight. This was a signal to his people. Their king, like the arrow, was freed from its confinement. It had gone like a bird of mighty wing, into the unchained atmosphere. Acloud of arrows from the shore followed that of their sovereign. To this succeeded a great shout of thanks and deliverance—“He! He! yo-he-wah! He—he—yo-he-wah.” The echo of which continued to ring through the vaulted forests, long after the Paracoussi had disappeared within their green recesses.
TheParacoussi, on parting with Laudonniere, renewed his assurances of good will, and repeated the promises which had been given to ensure his deliverance from captivity. The engagement required that a certain number of days should be allowed him, in which to gather supplies in sufficient quantity to discharge his ransom. Laudonniere left his lieutenants, Ottigny and D’Erlach, with the two hostages, in one of the barks, to receive the provisions which Utina was to furnish, while he himself returned to La Caroline. The lieutenants moored their vessel within a little creek which emptied into the May, and adopted all necessary precautions against savage artifice. The vigilance of Alphonse D’Erlach, in particular, was sleepless. He knew, more certainly than his superior, the necessities and dangers of the French, and the subtlety of the Indians. By day and night they lurked in the contiguous thickets, watchful of every opportunity for assault. An arquebuse presented in wantonness against the ledge which skirted the river, would frequently expel a group of shrieking warriors, well armed and covered with the war paint; and, with the dawn of morning, the first thing to salute the eyes of our Frenchmen would be long strings of arrows, planted in the earth, their barbs of flint turned upwards, from which long hairs shreds fromheads which had been shorn for war, were to be seen waving in the wind. These were signs, too well understood by previous experience, of a threatened and sleepless hostility.
It was soon found that the Paracoussi either could not or would not comply with his engagements. He sent a small supply of grain to the lieutenant, but said that more could not be provided except by a surrender of the hostages. The Frenchmen were required to bring the captives to the village, when and where they should be furnished with the full amount of the promised ransom. Satisfied that all this was mere pretence, indicating purposes of treachery, the Frenchmen were yet too much straitened by want to forego any enterprise which promised them provisions. They, accordingly, set forth for the place appointed, in two separate bodies, marching so that they might support each other promptly, under the several leads of D’Erlach and Ottigny. The former held the advance. The village of Utina was six French leagues from the river where they left their barque, and the route which they were compelled to pursue was such as exposed them frequently to the perils of ambuscade. But so vigilant was their watch, so ready were they with matches lighted, and so close was the custody in which they kept their hostages, that the Indians, whom they beheld constantly flitting through the thickets, dared never make any attempt upon them. They reached the village in safety, and immediately proceeded to the dwelling-house of Olata Utina, raised, as before described, upon an artificial eminence. Here they found assembled all the chiefs of the nation; but the Paracoussi was not among them. He kept aloof, and was not to be seen at present by the Frenchmen. His chiefs received their visitors with smiles and great professions; but, as their own proverb recites, when the enemy smiles your scalp is in danger.They pointed to great sacks of mil and beans which had already been accumulated, and still they showed the Frenchmen where hourly came other of their subjects adding still more to the pile.
“But wherefore,” they demanded, “wherefore come our white brethren, with the fire burning in their harquebuses? See they not that it causes our women to be afraid, and our children to tremble in their terror. Let our brethren put out this fire, which makes them dread to come nigh with their peace-offerings, and know us for a friend, under whose tongue there is no serpent.”
To this D’Erlach replied—“Our red brothers do themselves wrong. They do not fear the fire in our harquebuses. They know not its danger. The Frenchmen have always forborne to show them the power that might make them afraid. But this power is employed only against our enemies. Let the chiefs of the people of the Paracoussi Utina show themselves friends, and the thunder which we carry shall only send its fearful bolts among the foes of Utina, the people of Potanou, and the warriors of the great mountain of Apalatchy.”
“If we are thus friends of the Frenchmen, why do they keep our beloved men in bondage? Are these the ornaments proper to a warrior and a great chief among his people?”
They pointed as they spoke to the fetters which embraced the legs and arms of the hostages, who sat in one corner of the council-house.
“Our red brothers have but to speak, and these chains fall from the limbs of their well beloved chiefs.”
“Heh!—We speak!—Let them fall!”
“Speak to your people that these piles be complete,” pointing to the grain.
“They have heard. See you not they come?”
“But very slowly;—and hearken to us now, brothers of the red-men, while we ask,—do the skies that pavilion the territories of the Paracoussi Utina rain down such things as these.”
Here D’Erlach showed them a bunch of the arrows which they had found planted by the wayside as they came. The thin lips of the savages parted into slight smiles as they beheld them.
“These grow not by nature,” continued D’Erlach; “they fall not from heaven in the heavy showers. They are sown by the red-men along the path which the white man travels. What is the fruit which is to grow from such seed as this?”
The chiefs were silent. The youth proceeded:
“Brothers, we are calm;—we are not angry, though we well know what these arrows mean. We are patient, for we know our own strength. The Paracoussi has promised us supplies of grain, and hither we have come. Four days shall we remain in waiting for it. Till that time, these well-beloved men shall remain in our keeping. When we receive the supplies which have been promised us, they shall be yours. We have spoken.”
Thus ended the first conference. That night the French lieutenants found their way to the presence of the Paracoussi. He was kept concealed in a small wigwam, deeply embowered in the woods, but in near and convenient neighborhood to the village. He himself had sent for them, and one of his sons had shown the way. They found the old monarch still maintaining the state of a prince, but he was evidently humbled. His captivity had lessened his authority; and his anxiety to comply with the engagements made with the French had in some degree impaired his influence over his people. They had resolved to destroy the pale-faces, as insolent invaders of their territory, consumers of its substance and enemies of its peace. It was this hostility and thisdetermination that had interposed all the obstacles in the way of procuring the supplies promised.
“They resist me, their Paracoussi,” said Utina bitterly, “and have resolved on fighting with you! They will wage war against you to the last. See you not the planted arrows that marked your pathway to my village? These arrows are planted from the territories of Utina, by every pathway, to the very gates of La Caroline. They will meet your eyes wherever you shall return to the fortress. They mean nothing less than war, and such warfare as admits of no peace. Go you, therefore, go you with all speed to your vessels, and make what haste you can to the garrison. The woods swarm with my warriors, and they no longer heed my voice. They will hunt you to your vessel. They mean to throw trees athwart the creek so that her escape may be cut off, while they do you to death with their arrows, and I cannot be there to say to my people—‘stay your shafts, these be our friends and allies.’ They no longer hearken to my voice. I am a Paracoussi without subjects, a ruler without obedience,—a shadow, where I only used to be the substance.”
The despondency of the king was without hypocrisy. It sensibly impressed our Frenchmen. They felt that he spoke the truth. He was then, in fact, excluded from the house of council, as incurring the suspicion of the red-men as fatally friendly to the whites. While they still conversed, they were alarmed by violent shrieks, as of one in mortal terror.
“That scream issues from a French throat!” exclaimed D’Erlach, as he rushed forth. He was followed by Lieutenant Ottigny and another. The Paracoussi never left his seat. The screams guided them into a neighboring thicket, into which they hurried, arriving there not a moment too soon. A Frenchmanstruggled in the grasp of five stalwart savages, who had him down and were preparing to cut his throat. He had been beguiled from the place which had been assigned him as a watch, and was about to pay the penalty of his folly with his life. In an instant the gallant Alphonse D’Erlach had sprung among them, his sword passing clear through the back of the most prominent in the group of assailants. His body, falling upon that of the captive, prevented the blows which the rest were showering upon him. They started in sudden terror at this interruption. Their own and the clamors of the Frenchman had kept them from all knowledge of the approaching rescue. In an instant they were gone. They waited for no second stroke from a weapon whose first address was so sharp and sudden. They left their captive, bruised and groaning, but without serious injury to life or limb.
The warnings and assurances of the Paracoussi were sufficiently enforced by this instance of the hostility of the red-men. But the necessity of securing all the supplies they might possibly procure from the natives, either through their own artifices or because of the apprehension for their chiefs, caused our Frenchmen to linger at the village of Utina. They were determined to wait the full period of four days which they had assigned themselves. In this period they saw the Paracoussi more than once. At each interview his admonitions were delivered with increased solemnity. They found his chiefs less and less accommodating at every interview. The piles of grain at the council-house increased slowly. Occasionally an Indian might be seen to enter and cast the contents of his little basket among the rest. The Frenchmen endeavored to persuade the chiefs to furnish men to carry the grain to their vessel, but this was flatly denied. Resolved, finally, to depart, each soldier was required to load himself with a sackas well filled as it was consistent with his strength to bear. This was slung across his shoulder, and, in this way, burdened with food for other mouths as well as their own, and carrying their matchlocks besides, the Frenchmen prepared to depart, on the morning of the 27th July, 1565, from the village of Utina to the bark which they had left. It was a memorable day for our adventurers. In groups, scornfully smiling as they beheld the soldiers staggering beneath their burdens, the chiefs assembled to see them depart from the village. Alphonse D’Erlach beheld the malignant triumph which sparkled in their eyes.
“We shall not be suffered to reach the bark in quiet;” was his remark to Ottigny. “Let me have the advance, Monsieur, if you please; I have dealt with the dogs before.”
To this Ottigny consented; and leading one of the divisionsof the detachment, as at coming, D’Erlach prepared to take the initiate in a progress, every part of which was destined to be marked with strife. The immediate entrance to the village of the Paracoussi, the only path, indeed, by which our Frenchmen could emerge, lay, for nearly half a mile, through a noble avenue, the sides of which were densely occupied by a most ample and umbrageous forest. The trees were at once great and lofty, and the space beneath was closed up with a luxuriant undergrowth which spread away like a wall of green on either hand. D’Erlach remembered this entrance.
“Here,” said he to Ottigny, “Here, at the very opening of the path, our trouble is likely to begin. Let your men be prepared with matches lighted, and see that your fire is delivered only in squads, so that, at no time, shall all of your pieces be entirely empty.”
Ottigny prepared to follow this counsel. His men were allapprised of what they had to expect; and were told, at the first sign of danger, to cast down their corn bags, and betake themselves to their weapons wholly. The grain might be lost—probably would be—but better this, than, in a vain endeavor to preserve it, lose life and grain together. Thus prepared, D’Erlach began the march. He was followed, at a short interval, by Ottigny, with the rest of the detachment; a small force of eight arquebusiers excepted, who, under charge of a sergeant, were sent to the left of the thicket which bounded the avenue on one hand, with instructions to scour the woods in that quarter, yet without passing beyond reach of help from the main body.
All fell out as had been anticipated. D’Erlach was encountered as he emerged from the avenue, by a force of three hundred Indians. They poured in a cloud of arrows, but fortunately at such a distance as to do little mischief. With the first assault the Frenchmen dispossessed themselves of their burdens, and prepared themselves for fight. The savages came on more boldly, throwing in fresh flights of arrows as they pushed forward, and rending the forests with their cries. D’Erlach preserved all his steadiness and coolness. He saw that the arrows were yet comparatively ineffectual.
“Do not answer them yet, my good fellows,” he cried, “but stoop ye, every man, and break the arrows, as many as ye can, that fall about ye.”
He had seen that the savages, having delivered a few fires, were wont to rush forward and gather up the spent shafts, which, thus recovered, afforded them an inexhaustible armory, upon which it is their custom to rely. When his assailants beheld how his men were engaged, they rushed forward with loud shouts of fury, and delivering another storm of darts, they made demonstrations of adesire for close conflict, with their stone hatchets and macanas. At this show, D’Erlach spoke to his men in subdued accents.