Great preparations were made at New Plymouth for the reception of the red Chief and his attendants, in such a manner as to impress them with the wealth and power of emigrants. The large wooden building which was intended as a sort of council chamber and public hall, was hung inside with cloth and linen of various colors, and ornamented with swords, and muskets, and pistols that the colony could produce. An elevated seat was placed for the Governor at the upper end of the apartment, and tables composed of long planks were laid down on each side, on which were arranged such viands as the settlers could produce. The repast was humble; but Helen and her female friends arranged it with taste, and the children gathered the bright wild flowers that so early enliven the groves and meadows when an American winter has passed away, to deck the tables, and form garlands along the walls. A strange contrast did these buds and blossoms of spring form to the implements of war and death with which they were mingled: but the effect of the whole was gay, and appeared very imposing to the simple children of the wilderness, as they entered the wide portal, and passed up the hall to meet the Puritan Governor.
John Carver and his attendants were clad in the dark-colored and sober garments which were usually adopted by their sect; and their long beards and grave countenances struck a feeling of awe and reverence into their savage guests. But the red men betrayed no embarrassment or timidity. They advanced with a step at once bold and graceful, and even controlled their natural feeling of curiosity so far as to cast no wandering glances at the novelties that surrounded them. They kept their eyes steadily fixed on the Governor, and returned his salutation with a courteous dignity that did credit to their native breeding; and then the Chief and Quadequina seated themselves on the high-backed chairs that were placed for them on each side of the seat of the President. Such a mode of sitting was certainly altogether new to these sons of the forest, and they found it both awkward and disagreeable; yet they showed no discomposure or restraint, and not a smile betrayed their surprise, either at this or any other of the strange customs of their hosts.
After a few rather amusing efforts to carry on a communication with his guests, through the intervention of Samoset, Carver invited them to table, and again had occasion to admire the readiness and the natural grace with which they accommodated themselves to customs so new and so wonderful as those of the white men. When the repast was concluded, the President led Mooanam and his party round the village, and showed them everything that was worthy of attention; and so intelligent did he find them, that he had no difficulty in making them comprehend the use of many European implements, and many of the inventions and contrivances of civilized life. With much satisfaction the good pastor, Brewster, marked the sparkling eyes and speaking countenances of these gentle savages; for he there hoped he saw encouragement to his ardent hope of ere long bringing them to a knowledge of the simple and saving truths of the gospel. With the Governor's permission, he led them to the plain and unadorned edifice which was the emigrants' place of worship, and easily made them understand that it was dedicated to the service of the one Great Spirit who reigns over all; and from thence they were conducted to the cemetery, and shown, by expressive signs, the insult that had been offered to the dead by men of their own race. Some war- like implements that had been picked up after one of the recent skirmishes were shown to Mooanam and his brother, when they instantly exclaimed, Nausett!' and knitting their brows, and putting themselves into an attitude of defiance, they plainly intimated that the tribe was one with which they were at enmity.
They pointed in the direction where the Nausetts dwelt, and seemed to invite the settlers to join them in assaulting their encampment; but ignorance of their language, and of their habits prevented the President from assenting to what appeared to be their earnest wish.
As the sickness that had so long raged in the colony had now nearly disappeared, and the advance of the season promised soon to open sources of plentiful provision in the and the fields and streams, Brewster felt that he could be spared for a time from the settlement; and he proposed to Mr. Carver that he should return with Mooanam to his village, and endeavor to acquire such a knowledge of the native language, as should enable hint to act as an interpreter, and also give him the means of imparting to the red men the spiritual knowledge that he so ardently desired to bestow. The Governor willingly consented to this proposal; and when it was explained to the Indian Chief, he gave the most cordial and ready assent. The mild yet dignified countenance of the elder had won his respect and confidence; and he hoped to gain as great advantages from a more intimate connection with the white men, as they expected from his alliance and support.
Henrich was now able to leave his couch, and again to join Edith and his young companions out of doors; but he still looked delicate, and his former strength and activity had not fully returned. He was, however, able to walk with the assistance of a crutch that his father had made for him; and he formed one of the group that followed the Indians in their procession through the village, and also escorted them as far as the confines of the wood in whose depths their village lay. The Chief remarked the boy, and showed sympathy for his lameness, which he was given to understand was owing to an aggression of the Nausetts; and his eyes flashed, and his nostrils dilated, and his whole countenance was changed from its habitual expression of gentle dignity, to one of fierce hostility. It was evident that, in these Wampanoges, the settlers had secured allies who would be zealous and persevering in protecting them from the attacks of their harassing enemies, the Nausetts; and who would, when the proper time should arrive, assist them in fleeing the district of such troublesome inhabitants.
The Indians returned to their wigwams, and the elder accompanied them, and became an inmate of Mooanam's lodge. He soon began to acquire some knowledge of the language of his host, and also to instruct him and his wife in many English words and phrases, in which their aptitude to learn astonished him. A constant communication was kept up between the Indian village and that of the settlers, and a real regard and esteem sprang up between them. As the spring advanced, Henrich was able to throw aside his crutch, and to accompany his father and mother in their frequent visits to the wigwams, and much of his leisure time was passed in the company of the young Indians of his own age, whose activity and address in all their sports and games he admired and emulated. The presence of his friend Brewster in the Wampanoge village, also gave it increased attractions in the eyes of Henrich. The good man was still his friend and preceptor; and with his assistance, he made considerable progress in the acquirement of the native language, as well as in every other kind of knowledge that Brewster was able to impart. But all the elder's instructions were made subservient to that best of all knowledge—the knowledge of God, and of his revealed Word; and in this his pupil advanced and grew in a manner that both surprised and delighted him. The boy's naturally thoughtful character had become matured during his long and painful illness; and he had learnt to feel the value of heavenly things, and the comparative littleness of all 'those things which are seen, and are temporal.' He entered warmly into all the elder's benevolent desires and intentions for the conversion of the dark heathen among whom their lot was cast; and he already looked forward to being his assistant in the holy work. Brewster regarded him as destined to become both a pastor and a zealous and successful missionary, when he should arrive at a proper age; and he frequently spoke of him as his own appointed successor in the spiritual direction of the congregation.
This sacred office Henrich anticipated with pride and satisfaction; for where could he find a more fitting exercise for his adventurous and enterprising spirit, and also for his love of the truth, than in seeking the wild men amid their forests and wildernesses, and winning them to peace, and happiness, and civilization, by the knowledge of the all-powerful doctrines of the gospel?
With the Indians he soon became a great favorite; and the readiness with which he acquired the use of the bow, and learnt to cast the dart, and wield the light tomahawks that were used by the Indian boys to practice their young hands, excited their warmest admiration, and made them prophesy that he would one day become a distinguished Brave. His skill in hunting and fishing also became considerable; and he learnt from his copper-colored friends many of their songs and dances, with which he delighted Edith and Ludovico at home. His new companions did not draw away his affections from his sister. She was still the object of his warmest love; and to give her pleasure was the strongest desire of his heart. In his long rambles with his Indian play-fellows he never forgot his Edith; and many a stream was crossed, and many a rock was climbed, to procure flowering plants to deck her garden, and creepers to clothe the bower which he had formed for her beneath a venerable walnut-tree that stood within their father's little domain, and at no great distance from their dwelling.
An attempt had been made, at first, by the colonists to follow the example of the primitive church at Jerusalem; and to hold the land of which they had taken possession in common, to be worked by the whole community, and the produce to be equally divided amongst their families in due proportion. But this plan was soon abandoned, as quite unsuited to the habits and manners of these men of Britain; and every family had a small portion, consisting of an acre each, assigned to it for the special use and maintenance of its members. The fields in every allotment had been sown chiefly with grain procured from the friendly Wampanoges; and for some time past the Nausetts had left them unmolested.
The knowledge which Brewster soon acquired of the soft and musical language of the natives enabled him, with the assistance of Samoset, who still resided among them, to transact all business between them and his countrymen; and also to become acquainted with the history and circumstances of these useful allies. He learnt that Mooanam was not the great Sachem or Sagamore of the whole tribe, but that he was the eldest son of Masasoyt, the king or chief of the Wampanoges, who resided at Packanokick, their principal village, which was situated in the state of Rhode Island, near a mountain called Montaup, at a considerable distance from Patupet, the native name for New Plymouth.
The means of a still more extended intercourse was about this time opened to the settlers, by the arrival at New Plymouth of another Indian, who was already acquainted with the English, and who was also a much greater proficient in their language than their friend Samoset. This was no other than Squanto, the man who had been taken prisoner by Captain Hunt some years previous, and conveyed to England. During his residence there, he had learnt to make himself understood in the white man's tongue, and he had also learnt to admire and respect the white man's character. When, therefore, he had found his way hack to his native land in a fishing vessel, and was informed by the Wampanoge Sagamore—whom he visited in his journey to rejoin his own tribe—that an English settlement had been formed on the shores of Cape Cod Bay, he determined to visit it. Masasoyt encouraged him in this intention, and sent him to his son Mooanam, to be introduced to the strangers, and to assist in forming a permanent alliance with them.
These overtures were joyfully received by the Governor, Mr. Carver, and he determined to take immediate advantage of this opportunity of adding to the strength and security of the infant colony. The intended departure of Samoset also made it very desirable to secure the friendship and the services of the newcomer Squanto; as, notwithstanding the progress which Winslow and some others were making in the Wampanoge language, a native interpreter must long be required, in order to carry on a mutual intercourse.
An embassy to the great Sagamore was therefore resolved on, with a view to confirm and strengthen the alliance that had been formed with his sons: and again Rodolph was selected to accompany Captain Standish as his aide-de-camp, while Samoset and Squanto were to act as interpreters. The journey was long, and Maitland was obliged reluctantly to refuse Henrich's request to attend him. He feared the fatigue of so many days' travelling on foot would be too much for his son's strength, and Helen strongly opposed his going. He therefore gave up the much desired expedition, and endeavored to chase away his feeling of disappointment by renewed exertions in ornamenting the garden, and putting the grounds into a state of perfect order, to please his father on his return.
The expedition was accompanied by the Sagamore's younger son, Quadequina, who was anxious to introduce the new allies of his tribe to his father, and to ensure their friendly reception. They reached Packanokick after a pleasant journey of about forty miles, and were kindly welcomed by Masasoyt, to whom a messenger had been sent beforehand to prepare him for their arrival.
The Sagamore was a noble-looking old man, and was treated by his son, and by all his subjects, with the most profound respect; nor did his strange costume in any way destroy his kingly appearance. His limbs were naked, and were curiously painted and oiled, and his neck and arms were decorated with strings of large white beads composed of polished bone; while a richly embroidered bag or pouch, containing tobacco, was suspended at the back of his neck. His coronet of feathers was lofty, and of the most brilliant colors, and the rest of his dress consisted of a tunic and moccasins of dressed deer skin, exquisitely worked with colored grass and porcupine's quills. He willingly and fully ratified the treaty which had been made by his sons with the white strangers, whose appearance and manners seemed to prepossess him much in their favor; and after detaining them for some days in his lodge, and entertaining him with the greatest hospitality and kindness, he dismissed them with presents of native manufacture, in return for the European arms and ornaments which they had offered to his acceptance. Samoset here left the settlers, and Squanto became henceforth their faithful friend and useful interpreter.
In your patience possess ye your souls. LUKE, xxi 19.
One evening, about the time that Helen began to expect the return of the embassy from Packanokick, Henrich was unusually busy in the garden, arranging the flower-beds, and beautifying Edith's bower, in which he and his sister had planned a little fête to welcome their father home. Their mother had learnt to feel, that while they were thus employed, and within the precincts of their own domain, they were safe from every danger. The Nausetts had not attempted any depredations for an unusual length of time; and a feeling of security and peace had taken the place of that constant watchfulness and anxiety, which had long proved so harassing to the settlers. They began to flatter themselves that their foes had retired from the neighborhood, and would no more return to molest them, now that they knew the emigrants to be on such friendly terms with their powerful rivals, the Wampanoges. But false was this appearance of security; and vain was every hope that the Nausetts would forego their designs of vengeance, or cease to devise schemes of mischief against those by whom they thought themselves injured! They did not, indeed, continue to attack the settlement openly, for they had been taught to dread the British fire-arms and the British courage; but they still continued to lurk in the neighboring forest, and to keep a vigilant watch over all that took place at the settlement. Often were the keen eyes of Coubitant and his most trusty followers fixed, with a malignant gaze, on the dwelling of Rodolph and often were his movements, and those of his family, carefully noted by these sagacious savages, when no suspicion of their presence existed in the minds of the settlers. They would climb by night to the summit of some lofty tree that overlooked the village, and there remain all day unseen, to obtain a knowledge of the habits and proceedings of their hated enemies, and to devise plans for turning this knowledge to account.
The departure of the embassy to Packanokick was, consequently, well known to Coubitant, and he resolved to take advantage of the absence of so considerable a part of the British force, to execute, if possible, his schemes of vengeance. What they were, and how he attempted their accomplishment, will be presently seen.
Edith's bower looked gay with its spring blossoms and luxuriant creepers, but Henrich was not quite satisfied with its appearance, and he wished to place at its entrance a graceful climbing plant which he had observed during his last walk to the Wampanoge village, and had neglected to secure it on his return. It had been the desire of his parents that he should not go into the forest which bordered their grounds, except in the company of his father or some of his friends; but the apparent departure of the Nausetts had caused this injunction to be neglected of late, and he, and even his younger brother and sister, had frequently strayed, unmolested, a short distance into the wood, in search of flowers and fruits; and even Helen had ceased to feel alarm.
'Edith,' said Henrich, on the evening of which we are speaking; 'I think my father will return tonight, or tomorrow at the farthest; and I must complete my task before he arrives. Your bower still requires a few plants to adorn the entrance, and the seats of moss are scarcely finished. Let us go into the wood, and procure what we want before the sun sets, and our mother comes out to see what progress we have made.'
No, Henrich,' replied his sister; 'do not go this evening. I know not why, but the wood looks dark and gloomy; there is no sunlight on the path, and the shadows are so deep, that I could fancy every low bush was a crouching Indian. I cannot go into the wood tonight.'
'You are timid, dear Edith. You never feared to go with me before; and why should you fear this evening? See, the sun is still high in the horizon, and the darkness is all in your own fancy. Come and see that lovely creeper I told you of; and when you have admired it hanging from the decayed trunk of the old tree that supports it, you shall help me to remove it to your bower, where it will be the fairest flower that grows, except the little fairy queen herself.'
Henrich caught his sister's hand, and kissing her playfully, attempted to draw her from the bower. But she looked sad and anxious, and replied—
'O, Henrich! do not ask me; my bower is fair enough, and I would not go as far as that old tree tonight, for all the flowers that grow in the forest. Stay with me, Henrich, dear. Our mother will join us soon, and she will be alarmed if you are not here.'
The boy looked at his sister's pensive face with an affectionate smile: but he was not to be diverted from his scheme.
Stay here, then, Edith,' he replied; 'and tell my mother that I shall return in little more than ten minutes. Come, Ludovico,' he added, calling his little brother, who was always ready to follow where Henrich led. 'Come, Ludovico, you are not afraid of the shadows. Bring your basket, and you shall gather moss while I dig up my creeper. When Edith sees its drooping white flowers, she will forgive me for laughing at her unusual fears.'
Edith said no more. She was sure that Henrich knew best; and she silently watched him leave the garden, and enter the shade of the thick forest, accompanied by her joyous little brother. Were her fears, indeed, the mere creation of her own young fancy I or were they occasioned by one of those strange and unaccountable presentiments which have been felt so frequently as to justify the old proverb,
'Coming events cast their shadow, before them.
Edith sat on the mossy seat that Henrich had formed in her bower. It looked towards the wood, and the commanding situation which it occupied, on a rising ground towards the center of the garden, enabled her to overlook the green fence that enclosed the grounds, and to watch the receding forms of her brothers, until they were hidden from her sight by the winding of the path through the underwood. Still she gazed, and her heart grew sad; and tears, which she could not check, rolled down her cheeks. Did she again fancy? and did her tearful eyes now convert the bushes into the figures of two dark Indians, in the costume of the dreaded Nausetts? Surely those were human forms that moved so swiftly and so silently from the dark stem of a gigantic oak, and crossing the forest path, were instantly again concealed. Edith wiped her glistening eyes. She held her breath, and feared to move; but the beating of her young heart was audible. No sound met her listening ear—no movement again was detected by her straining eye—and she began to think that her own fears had conjured up those terrible forms.
But what was that distant cry that sounded from the wood in the direction in which her brothers had gone? And why does she now behold Ludovico running wildly, and alone, down the path, with terror depicted in his countenance?
Edith flew to meet him; but ere she reached him, the dreadful truth was made known to her by his agonized cry.
'O, my brother! my brother! they have taken him, Edith; they are dragging him away! They will kill him!' he shrieked aloud, as he threw himself into Edith's arms, almost choked with the violence of his feelings, and the speed with which he had fled.
What could Edith do? She dared not leave him, to be carried off, perhaps, by some other prowling savage, who might still be lingering near; and she could not carry him home. Slowly she drew him on, while every moment seemed an hour, that delayed her from giving the alarm, and sending friends to the rescue of her darling brother.
O! why did he leave me?' she murmured. 'Why did he go, when I knew that danger was near?'
As soon as she had brought the panting and terrified Ludovico within the precincts of the garden, she left him, and ran towards the house, calling loudly on her mother, who rushed out on hearing her voice of terror, and was instantly made acquainted with the appalling fact that had occurred. Who shall tell the agony of her feelings, or describe the sufferings of that mother's heart, when she knew that her child was in the power of the savage and relentless enemies of the white men? She was, indeed, ignorant of the peculiar vengeance that they desired to wreak on her husband and all his race; but the malevolent character of the Nausetts had been sufficiently manifested in their repeated and destructive attacks on the settlement, and their willful desecration of the graves of the exiles, to awaken the most poignant fears in her breast. Rodolph, too, was absent, and Brewster was still at the Wampanoge village; and where should she seek for succor or for counsel!
Hastily calling Janet, who was the only domestic at home, she committed Ludovico to her care; and taking Edith by the hand, she hurried from the garden, scarcely knowing whither she bent her steps, but in the vague hope of meeting some of the settlers returning from their labors in the fields, and inducing them to go to the rescue of her boy.
Onward she fled along the skirts of the forest, towards the fields of her husband's friend Winslow, who, she well knew, would aid her with all his power: but she found him not, and no human being appeared in sight to listen to her appeal for succor. The sun was setting, and all had returned to the village. What then could Helen do? To retrace her steps, and seek her friends and neighbors in their homes, would be to lose precious moments, on which the life and liberty of her Henrich might depend. To strike into the depths of the forest, and cross the belt of wood that divided the settlement from Mooanam's encampment would be the quickest plan, and probably the most effectual, as her Wampanoge friends would know far better than the settlers how to follow in the train of the fugitives, and how either to persuade or to compel them to release their prisoners. Helen had never dared to enter the wood, except under the protection of her husband, even in the broad light of day; and now the gloom of evening was gathering around her, and the path that led into the wood was obscured by the shadows of the thick foliage above. Bat where were all her fears and apprehensions? She was unconscious of such feelings now. The timid woman's heart was nerved to the occasion, and no danger could now make her shrink.
She turned rapidly into the narrow path, and pursued her way with a firmness and decision, of which, at any other time, when she was trusting to the arm and guidance of Rodolph, she would have believed herself incapable. She knew the direction in which the Indian village lay, and the slanting rays of the declining sun occasionally penetrated the thick wood, and cast bright streaks of light on the mossy ground, and the boles of the giant trees around; but soon they faded away, and a deep gloom overspread her path.
'Mother,' said the trembling little Edith, as she clung to Helens hand, and exerted her utmost strength to keep up with her rapid steps; 'Mother, do you not fear to pass through this forest now? Shall we not meet more of those dreadful savages who have taken away my brother? Oh, Henrich! Henrich!' she cried—while tears burst afresh from her eyes at the recollection of her brother's fate—'why did you venture into this wood to seek plants for my bower?' and the child sobbed convulsively, from mingled grief and fear.
Cease, Edith, cease!' replied the deeply distressed, but now firm and courageous Helen: 'I fear nothing while I am seeking aid for Henrich. God will protect us, my child! she added: and she raised her glistening eyes to heaven, and gazed, hopefully and trustingly, on one bright star that shone upon her between the summits of the lofty trees. Her heart was strengthened by her pious confidence in her heavenly Father. She remembered also that Edith looked to her for protection; and all personal fears were absorbed by that generous and elevating feeling of self-devotion, which is shared even by the lower and weaker animals when their offspring are in danger. So Helen forgot herself, and felt strong to guard her child, and strong to seek and obtain aid for him whose peril was more real and urgent.
Onward she pressed in silence but her soul was pleading eloquently with God. Soon Edith checked her suddenly, and exclaimed, as she stumbled over something in the pathway, 'Oh mother, here are Henrich's tools; and there I see Ludovico's basket full of moss! This is the spot to which my brothers were coming; and yonder is the old tree, with the white flowers hanging on it, that Henrich wished to plant by my bower. It must have been here that the Indians seized him while he was at work.'
That part of the wood was more light and open than the rest of their way had been; and Helen hastily surveyed it, that she might be able to guide the Wampanoges thither, and point out to them where to commence the pursuit. Again she resumed her way; and, regardless of fatigue, she never paused again until she reached the border of the quiet and lonely lake, on which the rising moon was now shining in all her silvery splendor. The huts of the friendly natives stood out, clear and dark, on the level shore of the lake, and Helen and her weary child soon reached them, and hastened to Mooanams lodge. There they found the Chief, and his interesting young wife and children, sitting on the matted floor, listening with deep attention to the words of life and salvation which Brewster was reading and interpreting to them from the Holy Scriptures. The hurried entrance of Helen startled and alarmed them; for her countenance plainly told them, that some calamity had occasioned her unlooked-for appearance at such an unwonted time.
With breathless haste she told her sad errand, and Brewster quickly explained her words to the Chief, Mooanam seized his arms, and rushed from the lodge, calling, in a loud and commanding voice, on his people to arm themselves and accompany him in the pursuit of the cruel and vindictive Nausetts. All was hurry and excitement throughout the village, and every swarthy warrior pressed forward, and desired to share in the expedition to save their young English favorite. It was necessary, however, to leave a strong party at the village, to guard it from any act of treachery or violence on the part of their malicious rivals, who, it was now evident, were still lurking in the neighborhood; and, while Mooanam was selecting his party, and arranging his plans, a clear shrill voice was heard from the margin of the lake, crying, 'The canoes! the canoes! Quadequina is returning.'
'The canoes, the canoes!' resounded through the crowd; and Helen's heart hounded with joy and gratitude. Rodolph was near; and all would yet be well.
Little Nepea had led Edith to the shore while the warriors were discussing their plans; and in a strange mixture of English and Indian words, the children were conversing on the recent sad event. The quick ear of the young savage had detected the splash of oars at the farther side of the lake, and he instantly discovered the three canoes that were leaving the opposite coast, and emerging from the deep shadow of the overhanging trees. He had raised that joyful cry; and now all the inhabitants of the village rushed down to the shore to welcome their brethren, and to tell the startling news.
Nearest to the brink stood Helen and her little girl, closely attended by Mooanam and the Squaw-Sachem Apannow, who shared her impatient anxiety for the return of the embassy, that they might have the benefit of Maitland's counsel, and also obtain an addition to their forces. The elder, Brewster, was deeply moved at the misfortune that had befallen his young friend, Henrich. But he knew that not a moment was to be lost! and, while all others were crowding down to the lake side, he busied him self in arranging the volunteers for the pursuit, and seeing that his own musket was in a proper state for active service.
The canoes sped swiftly across the moonlit waters; and as they neared the shore, Rodolph perceived the forms of his wife and daughter, surrounded by the dark Indians, and ready to receive him. But he felt only pleasure at this unexpected and welcome meeting. No feeling of alarm crossed his breast, until he drew near enough to distinguish Helen's countenance; and then he knew that she had come with evil tidings. He sprang from the canoe, eager to hear the truth: but all the firmness and courage which had so wonderfully sustained his wife while she was obliged to act for herself, forsook her the moment she felt herself supported by her Rodolph's arm; and faintly exclaiming, 'O my son, my son!' she fainted; while little Edith burst into tears, and sobbed out her brother's name.
'Tell me, in the name of heaven, what all this means!' exclaimed Maitland, turning a look of eager inquiry on Mooanam, who stood with characteristic silence and apparent composure, waiting the proper moment to speak. 'Tell me,' cried the distracted father again, 'what dire calamity has befallen my boy?'
'My heart is dark for you,' replied the Sachem, in a voice of perfect calmness, though a tear glistened in his coal black eye, and his brow was clouded by anxiety. 'My heart is very dark for you, and for your young warrior—for, boy as he was, he was a brave at heart.'
Mooanam spoke in his native tongue, intermixed with English words and phrases, which he had learned from Brewster and the other settlers; but the father's heart comprehended all he said, and needed no interpreter.
'Is my son dead, then?' he exclaimed. 'Has accident or violence quenched his young spirit?'
'Worse than dead,' slowly replied the Sachem; and he looked pityingly at Helen, who now began to recover her senses. 'Leave your wife to the care of the squaws,' he added, 'and come with me to the wise man yonder, and he will tell you all.'
He led Rodolph to where Brewster was occupied in making preparations, and soon the afflicted father was made acquainted with the fate of his son. He felt indeed that death—a calm and peaceful death beneath his own accustomed roof, and with those he dearly loved around him—would have been a far happier lot for Henrich than that to which he now feared he might be doomed—than that which, possibly, his darling boy was at that moment enduring at the hands of his cruel and malignant enemies.
The thought was maddening. But there was still a hope of saving him by speed and resolution; and he urged the Sachem to depart instantly. One moment he gave to visit and endeavor to cheer his wife, who now lay powerless and weeping in Apannow's lodge; and then he joined the Chief, who, with Brewster and a band of picked men, were ready to accompany him. The pastor had already learnt from Edith all that she could tell relative to the spot where her brother had been captured; and to that spot the pursuing party hurried, and soon discovered the basket and the tools that told where the boys had been so rudely interrupted in their work. Quickly the trodden grass, and the broken branches of the thick underwood, showed in what direction the boy had been dragged by his captors; and on the track the Wampanoge warriors followed, like hounds in the chase. But, alas! the Nausetts had had a fearful start of them; and little hope existed in the breast of Mooanam that they could overtake them, in time to avert the dreadful fate that he had feared for Henrich.
The Sachem was himself an Indian, and he well knew the Indian desire for retaliation and vengeance. He was, indeed, a man of a mild and generous nature, and he belonged to a tribe less distinguished by cruelty than the Nausetts. But still he felt that, according to the savage code of the natives, blood must atone for blood, and he believed that already the life of Henrich had probably been sacrificed in expiation of his father's having slain the son of the Nausett Chief. Still he led his warriors on, and neither paused nor spoke until the party emerged from the thick wood, upon a little opening that was lighted up brilliantly by the moon-beams. Here, where it was evident a small temporary encampment had existed, and had only been very recently and hastily removed, he stopped, and looked earnestly around. The poles still stood erect which lied supported the tents of the Nausetts; the fires were still burning; and many articles of domestic use lay scattered about, which the hasty departure of the inhabitants had probably prevented their removing.
Rudolph hurried through the camp in search of some sign of his son; and his eager eye fell on the well-known tunic that Henrich was accustomed to wear. He snatched it up hastily; and then, with a deep groan, let it fall again upon the ground. The breast of the tunic was pierced through in several places, and the whole dress was stained with blood—blood that was newly shed.
Maitland pointed to this evidence of his son's death! and when the Sachem had examined it, he set his teeth together, and drew in his breath with an oppressed, hissing sound, as of severe pain.
'It is over, my friend,' he said, in a low deep voice to Rodolph—'it is over; and we are too late. Naught now remains but to take revenge— full, ample revenge. Let us follow the miscreants.'
Rudolph turned, and looked at him. He fixed on him such a searching gaze—a gaze so full of gentle reproof and of deep settled grief-that the warm-hearted Chief stood silent, and almost abashed before his Christian friend.
'Is it thus you have learned of Brewster?' said the sorrowing father. 'Is it thus that you are taught in that book which the Great Spirit has dictated? The Father of us all has declared, "vengeance is mine; I will repay "; and since we are too late to save my son, we will not commit deeds of blood which his now happy and ransomed spirit would abhor.'
Mooanam was silenced, but not convinced. Inwardly he vowed vengeance against those who had dealt so cruelly with the unoffending boy; though, under similar circumstances, he would probably have acted with the same spirit. But the Chief bad allied himself with the white men. He loved and reverenced them; and he was resolved to avenge the wrongs of Maitland, as if they had been his own.
Sadly and silently the party returned to the Indian village, where they arrived at the break of day. We will not attempt to describe the mother's anguish when she was made acquainted with the dreaded fate of her son; but Helen was a Christian, and while her heart was bowed down with crushing grief, her spirit strove to hush its rebellious questionings, and to submit itself to the will of God.
'It is the Lord,' she meekly exclaimed: let Him do what seemeth Him good!'
That morning she returned with her husband and Edith to the settlement; and they were accompanied by Brewster, whose pious exhortations and sympathizing kindness were invaluable to the bereaved and afflicted parents. The grief of Edith was less capable of being suppressed; and it broke out afresh when little Ludovico came to meet them, and inquired for his brother. From the child they learnt, that while he and Henrich were busily engaged in their several occupations in the wood, two Indians had suddenly rushed from the thick brushwood, and seized on his brother before he had time to fly. Ludovico was gathering moss at some distance, but he saw what passed, and uttered a cry that attracted the attention of the savages; and one of them east a spear at him with such violence, that, missing its intended mark, it stuck firmly in a tree close behind him. Seeing this, his noble and courageous brother called out to him to hide among the bushes, and make his way home as quickly as possible; and the Indians, eager to secure the prize they had so long been watching for, hurried away through the forest, dragging Henrich with them.
The murderous attempt made by these savages against the life of Ludovico proved but too clearly that the destruction of Rodolph's children was their object, and banished every hope that lingered in Helen's breast; and this conviction of their cruel intentions was still further confirmed by Janet's account of the look and gesture of the warrior who attended his Chief when the Nausetts first assailed the settlement. Rodolph had seen, and understood the action; and as he had also learnt through his Wampanoge friends that Tekoa, the son of the Nausett Chief, had fallen in the first encounter, he knew enough of Indian customs to be aware that he, as the slayer, was a marked object of their vengeance. He had, however, always concealed his suspicions from Helen; and the only effect they had produced on him was causing him, at that time, to prohibit his children from venturing unguarded into the wood, more strictly than he would otherwise have done.
'Surely the wrath of man shall praise thee: the remainder of wrath shalt thou restrain.' PSA. lxxvi,10.
We will now, for a time, leave the settlement—where the sad news of the capture and supposed death of Henrich had spread a general gloom and consternation—and follow the subject of their pitying grief, from the time that he was seized and made a prisoner in the hands of the savages. They did not slay him; for the Lord had work and service in store for the young missionary, and he suffered not a hair of his head to be hurt.
Coubitant—for he was one of those whose patient vigilance had, at length, been crowned by success—and his companion had hurried him at their greatest speed through the wood, to the spot where their temporary camp was pitched, and where several others of their tribe awaited their return. A few minutes sufficed to remove the matting that formed their tents, and to collect their arms and utensils; but Coubitant well knew that the child who had escaped his cruelty would soon alarm the settlers, and that an instant pursuit would follow. He therefore, devised plan to deceive, and, perhaps altogether to check the white men, at least for a time, by making them believe that the death of the captive had already taken place. He would have instantly gratified the feelings of his cruel and revengeful heart, and have shed the innocent blood of Rodolph's son to atone for the death of his friend, but that he feared to disappoint his Chief, who so earnestly desired to imbrue his own hands in the blood of the slayer. He, therefore, resolved on the stratagem we have described. He stripped off the captive's tunic, and, after piercing it several times with his dagger, he opened a vein in his own arm with the same weapon, and let the hot blood flow freely over the torn vesture.
This done, he smiled a demon's smile, as he cast the tunic on the ground, and thought with malignant pleasure of the anguish that its discovery would occasion to his hated foe.
Henrich gazed in trembling wonder at this act; and when Coubitant again approached him to bind his hands, he believed that he was about to plunge that blood-stained knife into his beating heart. He was young, and life was new and precious to him; and for a moment he shrank back, while the blood curdled in his veins. But, young as he was, he was also a child of God; and he knew that all events are governed by His Almighty power, and over-ruled by His wisdom and love. So he was enabled to lift up his eyes and his trusting heart to heaven, and to await his expected fate with calmness. Coubitant saw his firmness, and he wondered and admired. He placed the dagger in his belt and hastily tying the captive's hands behind his back, he motioned to his companions to follow, and struck into a narrow and almost undistinguishable path.
Forcing Henrich to go before him, while he held the rope of twisted grass that bound his hands he followed close behind, and placed his foot in each print that the prisoner made, so as to destroy the impression of the boy's European shoe. The other Indians did the same; as exactly did they tread in one another's steps, that, when all had passed, it seemed as if only one solitary traveler had left his track on the soft ground.
Thus, 'in Indian file,' they traversed a belt of wood, till they came out on a dry and sun-burnt plain, where their steps left no impression. Coubitant then advanced to the side of his prisoner, and, taking his arm in his powerful grasp, he compelled him to advance, at an almost breathless speed, across the plain. In the wood, on the other side, he allowed a short pause, and gave Henrich some water from a bottle made of a dried gourd, which hung about his neck; and thus they traveled on, with slight refreshment and little rest, until the sun arose in all his splendor, and displayed to Henrich's admiring gaze the wild and magnificent woodland scenery through which he was travelling. Under other circumstances, he would keenly have enjoyed the novelty and the beauty of the objects that met his eyes, so different from the luxuriant, but flat and monotonous fields, and gardens, and canals, that he so well remembered in Holland. Here all was wild and varied; and all was on a scale of grandeur that inspired him with a feeling of awe and solemnity, heightened, no doubt, by the fearful uncertainty of his fate, and the thought that, perhaps, this was the last time that he should look upon these glorious hills, and ancient forests, and wide rushing rivers—the handiworks, and the visible teachers of God's power. Something of American scenery he had become acquainted with in his rambles round the Indian village, but only enough to make him long to see more; and had he now been travelling by the side of his father, or his friend Brewster, the elastic morning air, and the splendid and ever-varying views, would have made his young heart bound with joy and health.
As it was, the silent beauty of nature was not without its influence on the captive boy. He seemed to feel more strongly the presence and the goodness of his heavenly Father; and his young spirit was cheered to endure his present desolate situation, and strengthened to meet whatever future trials might await him. He had learnt from Brewster to make himself understood in the Wampanoge language, and he resolved to try whether his Nausett guide would reply to his questions in that tongue. He therefore besought him to tell him whither he was leading him, and for what purpose. But Coubitant deigned him no reply. He understood him—for the Nausett language was but another dialect of the Wampanoge—but he did not choose to inform the boy of his destination at present, and he preserved a profound silence, and an expression of sullen gravity.
It was not until the evening of the fourth day that the party reached the Nausett village, which, as we have already observed, was situate near the site of the 'first encounter'; and to which Tisquantum, and the greater part of his warriors had returned, when Coubitant and a few picked associates were left to carry out his schemes of vengeance. Henrich was instantly conducted to the lodge of the old Chief; and brightly did Tisquantum's dark eyes glitter when he beheld the son of his enemy in his power. He praised the skill and the perseverance by which Coubitant had thus procured him the means of revenge; and, taking off his own brilliant coronet of feathers, he placed it on the head of the proud and successful warrior, as a distinguished mark of his approbation.
Coubitant was highly gratified; but his desire for vengeance was stronger than his vanity, and forgetting the honor that had been conferred upon him, he entreated the Chief to allow him instantly to drive his spear into the boy's heart, or else with his own weapon to take the life of the slayer's child.
'Not yet!' replied Tisquantum—and Henrich comprehended the full purport of his words—'not today, Coubitant. I would pour out the blood of the white youth with pomp and ceremony, as an offering to the spirit of my murdered son. Let the boy be fed and refreshed: tomorrow, at break of day, he shall die. Go. I have said it.'
'And will the Sachem give him into my charge until the morning dawns?' inquired Coubitant.
Tisquantum fixed his piercing eye on the savage, and read his malevolent feelings; and he calmly answered, 'No: the victim shall bleed because his father's blood flows in his veins. But he shall not be tortured; for his was not the hand that deprived me of my son. The boy shall remain in my own lodge, and sleep securely for this night beneath the same roof that shelters my last remaining child—my lovely Oriana.'
Had the Chief observed Henrich's changing countenance, he would have perceived that all he said was understood by the intended sufferer. But he marked him not, and the boy commanded himself, and kept silence, determined to await Coubitant's departure before he made one effort to move the Chief to pity. He had, however, no opportunity of trying the effect of his earnest appeal; for Tisquantum ordered one of his attendants to remove him at once to the inner division of the lodge, and to secure him there for the night: and then, motioning Coubitant to retire, and resuming his pipe, he proceeded to 'drink smoke,' as composedly as if his evening repose had not been interrupted.
But, notwithstanding his outward composure, the Nausett chief was not unmoved by the event that had just occurred. The sight of the son of him whose hand had slain his young Tekoa brought back the image of his brave young warrior, as he stood beside him at the fatal burial-ground, full of youthful ardor, to combat the invaders of his land, and the supposed enemies of his race. He recalled his daring look as he mounted the palisade, and placed in his unerring bow the arrow that wounded the English boy. And then he seemed to hear again the sharp report of the white man's musket, and to behold once more the sudden fall of his son, bleeding and expiring, to the ground.
Tisquantum thought on that hour of anguish, when his duties as a chief and a warrior had forbidden all expression of his grief; and he thought of his return to his lodge, where only Oriana remained to welcome him— for the mother of his children, whom he had loved with unusual affection, was dead—and tears gathered in the Sachem's eyes. Oriana had deeply mourned her brother's death; for since she had lost her mother, she had been permitted to enjoy much more of his society than had previously been allowed her; and her father, also, had seemed to transfer to her much of the love that be had borne towards his wife. Now his daughter was his only domestic tie; and his chief object in life was to give her in marriage to a warrior as brave as her young brother, and who would supply to him the place of his departed son.
At present, this prospect was not immediate, for Oriana was only in her fourteenth year; but the Sachem was resolved that she should be worthy of the hand of the greatest warriors of her tribe, and he took pains to have her instructed in every art that was considered valuable or ornamental to an Indian female. Already she could perform the most elaborate patterns in native embroidery on her father's pouches and moccasins; and her own garments were also delicately and fancifully adorned in the same manner, with feathers, and shells, and colored grasses. Besides this accomplishment, her skill in Indian cookery was very great; and she could also use a bow and arrows, or cast a light javelin, or swim across a rapid river, with a grace and activity that delighted her proud father.
Oriana, too, was gentle—as gentle as her mother, and her influence over Tisquantum bade fair to equal that which his much-cherished and deeply regretted wife had exercised over him. That influence had ever been employed in the cause of mercy! and many an enemy, and many a subject, had lived to bless the name of the Squaw-Sachem Oriana, when she had quelled the wrath of the offended Chief, and turned aside his intended vengeance.
It was to the inner apartment of his spacious lodge, where his daughter and her attendants were busily engaged in their domestic occupations, that Henrich bad been led. His arms were still tied behind his back, and the end of the rope that bound them was secured to a post in the wall. The Indian who, at his chief's command, conducted him thither, briefly informed Oriana that he was a prisoner, and desired her women to look to his security: and then he left the captive to his strange and inquisitive jailers.
When Tisquantum had emptied his long pipe, he bethought himself of the young captive's position, and proceeded to his daughter's apartment to give orders for his hospitable entertainment that evening, and his safe lodgment for the night—that night which he was resolved should be his last. As he approached the thick curtain of deer-skins that hung over the aperture between the two apartments, he thought he heard a strange sweet voice speaking the Indian language with a foreign accent; and hastily drawing aside the heavy drapery, he was astonished to see his prisoner, and intended victim, liberated from the cord that had bound him, and reclining on the furs and cushions that formed Oriana's usual resting-place; while his gentle Indian child knelt beside him, and offered him the food of which he was so much in need. Henrich was gratefully thanking her; and as the Sachem entered, he heard him exclaim in mournful accents—
But why do you thus so kindly treat me? It were better to let me die of hunger and fatigue; for I know that to-morrow my blood is to be shed: the cold knife is to pierce my heart.'
'It shall not be,' replied Oriana, fervently. 'I have said that I will save you.' And then she raised her sparkling eyes as she heard her father's entrance; and springing on her feet, she darted forward, and caught his arm.
'Father!' she cried—and now she spoke so rapidly and energetically, that Henrich could only guess the purport of her words, and read it in her sweet expressive countenance—'Father! do not slay the white boy. He says that he is doomed to die because his father caused my brother's death. But surely Tekoa's generous spirit does not ask the blood of a child. My brother is now happy in the great hunting grounds where our fathers dwell. He feels no wrath against his slayer's son: he never would have sought revenge against an innocent boy. Give me the captive, O my father! and let him grow up in our lodge, and be to me a playfellow and a brother.'
Tisquantum gazed at his child in wonder, and his countenance softened. She saw that he was moved and hastily turning from him, she approached Henrich, who had risen from the couch, and now stood an earnest spectator of the scene, on the issue of which his life or death, humanly speaking, depended. She took his band, and led him to her father, and again pleaded earnestly and passionately for his life; while the touching expression of his own deep blue eyes, and the beauty of his fair young face, added greatly to the power of her appeal.
I have a little sister at home,' said Henrich—and the soft Indian language sounded sweetly from his foreign lips—'and she will weep for me as Oriana has wept for her brother. Let me return to Patupet, and she and my parents will bless you.'
At the mention of his parents, Tisquantum's brow grew dark again. He thought of Rodolph as the destroyer of his son; and he turned away from the two youthful suppliants, whose silent eloquence he felt he could not long resist.
'Your father killed my young Tekoa,' he replied. 'His fire weapon quenched the light of my lodge, and took from me the support of my old age. Should I have pity on his son?'
'But let him dwell in our lodge, and fill my brother's vacant place!' exclaimed Oriana. 'Do not send him back to the white men; and his father, and his mother, and his little sister will still weep for him, and believe him dead.'
The same idea had crossed Tisquantum's breast. He looked again at the boy, and thought how much Oriana's life would be cheered by such a companion. His desire of revenge on Rodolph would also be gratified by detaining his child, and bringing him up as an Indian, so long as his parents believed that he had met with a bloody death; and, possibly, he felt a time might come when the possession of an English captive might prove advantageous to himself and his tribe. All fear of the boy's escaping to his friends was removed from his mind; for he was about to retire from that part of the country to a wild district far to the west, and to join his allies, the Pequodees, in a hunting expedition to some distant prairies. The portion of his tribe over which he was Sachem, or chief, was willing to accompany him; and he had no intention of returning again to the neighborhood of the English intruders, who, he clearly foresaw, would ere long make themselves masters of the soil; and who had already secured to themselves such powerful allies in the Wampanoges—the enemies and rivals of the Nausetts.
Tisquantum weighed all these considerations in his mind; and he resolved to spare the life of his young captive. But he would not at once announce that he had relented from his bloody purpose, and yielded to his child's solicitations. He therefore maintained the severe gravity that usually marked his countenance, and replied—
'But what can the white boy do, that he should fill the place of an Indian chieftain's son? Can he cast the spear, or draw the bow, or wrestle with our brave youths?
Reviving hope had filled the heart of Henrich with courage, and he looked boldly up into the Sachem's face, and merely answered, 'Try me.'
The brevity and the calmness of the reply pleased the red Chief, and he determined to take him at his word.
'I will,' he said. 'To-morrow you shall show what skill you possess, and your fate shall depend on your success. But how have you learned anything of Indian sports, or of the Indian tongue?'
'I have been much in Mooanam's lodge, and have played with the youths of his village,' replied Henrich; 'and the Sachem was well pleased to see me use a bow and arrow in his woods. And from him, and my young companions, I learnt to speak their tongue.'
'It is good,' said the old Chief, thoughtfully. Then, fixing his penetrating eyes on Henrich again, he hastily inquired: 'And can you use the fire-breathing weapons of your countrymen? and can you teach me to make them?
'I can use them,' answered the boy; 'but I cannot make them. They come from my father's land, beyond the great sea. But,' he added—while a stronger hope of life and liberty beamed in his bright blue eye and flushing face—'send me back to my countrymen, and they will give you muskets for my ransom.'
'No, no!' said the Sachem: and the dark cloud again passed over his countenance. 'Never will I restore you to your father, till he can give me back my son. You shall live, if you can use our Indian weapons; but you shall live and die as an Indian.'
He turned and left the apartment; and the heart of Henrich sank within him. Was he then taken for ever from his parents, and his brother, and sister? Should he behold his friends, and his teacher, no more? And must he dwell with savages, and lead a savage life? Death, he thought, would be preferable to such a lot; and he half resolved to conceal his skill and dexterity in Indian exercises, that Tisquantum might cast him off and slay him, as unfit to dwell among his tribe. But hope soon revived; and his trust in the providential mercy of God restored his spirits, and enabled him even to look upon a lengthened captivity among the red men with composure. Plans for escaping out of their hands, and making his way back to the settlement, filled his mind; and a short residence among the wild men even appeared to offer some attraction to his enterprising spirit. So he turned to Oriana, who stood gazing on his changing and expressive countenance with the deepest interest, and again resumed the conversation which had been interrupted by the entrance of the Chief.
Many questions did those young strangers ask each other relative to their respective homes, and native customs; and Henrich learnt, with much dismay, that the Nausetts under Tisquantum's rule were so soon to change their place of residence. His hopes of escape became less strong, but they were not destroyed: and when he was summoned to pass the night in the Sachem's apartment, he was able to lift up his heart to God in prayer, and to lie down to sleep on the rude couch prepared for him, with a calm trust in His Almighty power and goodness, and a hope that He would see fit to shorten his trials, and restore him to his friends.
The Chief watched him as he knelt in prayer; and when he rose, and prepared to lie down to sleep, he abruptly asked him why he had thus remained on his knees so long?
'I was praying to my God to protect me,' answered Henrich; and a tear rose to his eye, as he remembered how he had knelt every evening with his own beloved family; and thought how his absence, and their probable belief in his death, would sadden the act of worship that would that night be performed in his father's house.
'Do you pray to the Great Spirit?' asked Tisquantum.
'I do!' replied the young Christian. 'I pray to the Great Spirit, who is the God and Father of all men; and I pray to his Son Jesus Christ, who is the friend and Savior of all who love him.'
'It is good!' said the Chief. 'We know the Great Spirit; but we know nothing of the other gods of the white men. Sleep now; for your strength and activity will be tried to-morrow.' And Henrich lay down, and slept long and peacefully.
He was awakened the next morning by the gentle voice of Oriana, who stood beside him, and said, 'You must rise now, and eat with me, before you go out to try your strength and skill. Come to my apartment.'
Henrich opened his eyes, and gazed around him in wonder. But quickly the whole sad reality of his situation came over him, and he felt that he must nerve himself for the coming trial. Soon he followed Oriana to her inner room, where a slight Indian repast of maize and fruits had been prepared by the young Squaw-Sachem and her attendants. Tisquantum had left the lodge, and was now occupied in preparing a spot for the exercise of the white boy's skill. At his side stood Coubitant, silent and gloomy. His indignation at the Chief's merciful intentions towards the intended victim was great; and strongly had he urged him to the immediate slaughter of the captive. But Tisquantum was not to be lightly moved, either to good or evil. He had said that the boy should live, if he proved himself worthy to bear Indian arms, and all the cruel suggestions and arguments that Coubitant could bring forward only made him more resolved to keep his word.
The young savage then forbore to speak, for he saw that it was useless, and he feared to displease his Chief, whose favor was the highest object of his ambition. Since the untimely death of his son, Coubitant had been constantly his companion and attendant, until he had been left near the English settlement to carry out his schemes of revenge. His success in this enterprise a raised him still higher in Tisquantum's estimation; and visions of becoming the son-in-law of the Chief, and eventually succeeding him in his office, already floated in the brain of Coubitant. In a few years, Oriana's hand would be given to some fortunate warrior; and who could have so strong a claim to it as the man who had risked his own life to procure vengeance for her brother's death? Therefore Coubitant held his peace, and checked the expression of his deadly and malignant feelings towards the young prisoner.
Soon Henrich was summoned to the ground where his fate was to be decided, and he was directed to try his powers with several Indian boys of his own age. In shooting with the bow and arrow, he could not, by any means, rival their skill and accuracy of aim; but in casting the spear, and wielding the tomahawk, he showed himself their equal; and when he was made to wrestle with his swarthy and half-naked competitors, the superior height and muscular powers of the British lad enabled him to gain the victory in almost every instance.
Tisquantum was satisfied. He pronounced him worthy to live; and, notwithstanding the opposition of Coubitant, which was once more cautiously manifested, he presented Henrich with the arms that he knew so well how to use, and informed him that he should henceforth dwell in his lodge among his braves, and should no more inhabit the apartments of the women. To a young and generous mind success and approbation are always grateful; and Henrich's eye kindled, and his cheek burned, as he listened to the praises of the Chief, and felt that he owed his life, under Providence, to his own efforts. And when his little friend Oriana came bounding up to him, with joy and exultation in her intelligent countenance, and playfully flung a wreath of flowers across his shoulders in token of victory, he felt that even among these children of the wilderness—these dreaded Nausett Indians—he could find something to love.
In Coubitant, he instinctively felt that he had also something to dread; but the savage tried to conceal his feeling and even to please the Chief and Oriana, by pretending an interest in their young favorite, which for a long time deceived them as to his real sentiments. The bustle of preparation for the intended removal of the encampment began that day—for Tisquantum was now more eager than ever to get beyond the reach of the settlers—and before sunset all was ready. The next morning the march commenced at daybreak, and continued for many days uninterruptedly, until the Chief and his followers reached the residence of his Pequodee allies, when he considered himself safe from pursuit, even if the settlers should attempt it. He therefore halted his party, and took up his abode among his friends, to wait until they were prepared to set out on their hunting expedition to the western prairies. A period of repose was also very needful for the women and children, for the march had been a most fatiguing one. Not only had the Sachem dreaded the pursuit of the injured settlers, and therefore hurried his party to their utmost speed; but the country through which they had traveled was inhabited by the Narragansett tribe, the ancient and hereditary foes of the Pequodees. It was, consequently, desirable for the Nausetts, as allies of the latter, to spend as little time as possible in the territories of their enemies; and little rest ad been permitted to the travelers until they had passed the boundary of the friendly Pequodees.
The woodsoh! solemn are the boundless woods;Of the great western world, when day declines,And louder sounds the roll of distant floods,More deep the rustling of the ancient pines;When dimness gathers on the stilly air,And mystery seems o'er every leaf to brood,Awful is it for human heart to bearThe might and burden of the solitude!' HEMANS.
Many weeks elapsed after the Nausett party had joined the friendly Pequodees, ere any preparations were made for journeying to the west; and these days were chiefly employed by Henrich in improving his knowledge of the Indian language, and especially of the Nausett dialect, by conversing with Oriana and her young companions, both male and female. He also endeavored to learn as much as possible of the habit and the ideas of the simple people among whom his lot was now cast; for he hoped, at some future time, when he had succeeded in returning to his own countrymen, that such a knowledge might prove useful both to himself and them.
He was treated with much kindness by Tisquantum; and his favor with the Chief ensured the respect and attention of all his dependants and followers. From the day that the white boy had been spared from a cruel and violent death, and established as a regular inmate of Tisquantum's dwelling, it seemed as if he had regarded him as a son, and had adopted him to fill the place of him whose death he so deeply deplored; and Oriana already looked on him as a brother, and took the greatest delight in his society. No apprehensions were now felt of his escaping to the settlement; for the distance which they had traveled through woods, and over hills and plains, to reach the Pequodee encampment, was so great, that it was utterly impossible for any one but an Indian, well accustomed to the country, to traverse it alone. Henrich was, therefore, allowed to enjoy perfect liberty, and to ramble unmolested around the camp; and it was his greatest pleasure to climb to the summit of a neighboring hill, which was crowned by a few ancient and majestic pines, and there to look in wonder and admiration at the scenery around him. To the west, a vast and trackless forest spread as far as the eye could reach, unbroken save by some distant lakes, that shone like clear mirrors in their dark green setting. Trees of gigantic growth rose high above their brethren of the wood, but wild luxuriant creepers, many of them bearing clusters of bright blossoms, had climbed ambitiously to their summits, seeking the light of day, and the warmth of the sunbeams, which could not penetrate the thick underwood that was their birth-place. It was a sea of varied and undulating foliage, beautiful and striking, but almost oppressive to the spirit; and Henrich gazed sadly over the interminable forest, and thought of the weeks, and months—and, possibly, the years that this wilderness was to be his home. Escape, under present circumstances, he felt to be impossible; and he endeavored to reconcile himself to his fate, and to look forward with hope to a dim and uncertain future. Could his parents and Edith but have been assured of his safety, he thought he could have borne his captivity more cheerfully; but to feel that they were mourning him as dead, and that, perhaps, they would never know that his blood had not been cruelly shed by his captors, was hard for the affectionate boy to endure.
To Oriana, alone, could he tell his feelings, and pour out his griefs and anxieties; and Edith herself could not have listened to him with more attention and sympathy than was shown by the young Indian girl. When her domestic duties were accomplished, she would accompany her new friend to his favorite retreat on the hill-top; and there, seated by his side beneath the tall pines, she would hold his hand, and gaze into his sorrowful countenance, and listen to his fond regrets for his distant home, and all its dearly-loved inmates, till tears would gather in her soft black eyes, and she almost wished that she could restore him to his countrymen. But this she was powerless to do, even if she could have made up her mind to the sacrifice of her 'white brother,' as she called him. She had, indeed, wrought upon her father so far as to save his life, and have him adopted into their tribe and family; but she well knew that nothing would ever induce him to give up his possession of Rodolph's son, or suffer his parents to know that he lived.
All this she told to Henrich; and his spirit, sanguine as it was, sickened at the prospect of a lengthened captivity among uncivilized and heathen beings. He gazed mournfully to the east; he looked over the wide expanse of country that he had lately traversed, and his eye seemed to pierce the rising hills, and lofty forests, that lay between him and his cherished home; and in the words of the Psalmist he cried, 'Oh that I had wings as a dove, for then would I flee away and be at rest!'
Would you leave me, my brother?' said Oriana, in reply to this unconscious utterance of his feelings; 'would you leave me again alone, to mourn the brother I have lost?' The Sachem loves you, and I love you, too; and you may be happy in our lodge, and become a brave like our young men.'
Yes, Oriana, you and your father are kind to me; and I had never known any other mode of life, I might be happy in your lodge. But I cannot forget my parents, and me dear Edith who loved me so fondly, and my little brother also. And then I had a friend—a kind friend, and full of wisdom and goodness—who used to teach me all kinds of knowledge; and, above all, the knowledge of the way to heaven. How can I think that I may, perhaps, never see all these again, and not be sad?' And Henrich buried his face in his hands and wept without restraint.
Oriana gazed at him affectionately, and tears of sympathy filled her large eyes also. But she drew away Henrichs hand, and kissed it, and tried to cheer him in the best way that her simple mind could suggest.
'My brother must not weep,' she said; 'for he is not a child, and our Indian youths are ashamed of tears. Henrich will be a brave some day, and he will delight in hunting, and in war, as our red warriors do; and he will, I know, excel them all in strength and courage. What can he desire more than to be a Nausett warrior?'
'Oh, Oriana,' replied the boy—as he wiped away his tears, and almost smiled at her attempts to console him by such a future prospect—' I desire to return to my home, and my friends, and the worship of my God. Among your people none know anything of the true God, and none believe in His Son. I have no one to speak to me as my parents, and my venerable teacher, used to do; and no one to kneel with me in prayer to the Almighty.'
'Do not you worship the Great Mahneto—the Mighty Spirit from whom every good gift comes?' asked Oriana, with surprise. 'He is the one true God, and all the red men know and worship him.'
'Yes, Oriana, I do worship the one Great Spirit; the God and Father of all men of every color and of every clime. But the Christian's God is far more wise, and good, and merciful than the Indian's Mahneto: and He has told his servants what He is, and how they ought to serve Him.'
'Does your Mahneto speak to you?' asked the Indian girl. 'Could I hear him speak?'
'He has spoken to our fathers long ages ago, replied Henrich; 'and we have His words written in a book. Oh, that I had that blessed book with me! How it would comfort me to read it now!'
'And you would read it to me, my brother? But tell me some of your Mahneto's words; and tell me why you say He is greater and better than the Good Spirit who protects the red men.'
'I will gladly tell you all I know of the God whom I have been taught to love and worship ever since I was a little child. I wish I could make you love Him too, Oriana, and teach you to pray to Him, and to believe in His Son as your friend and Savior.'
'I will believe all you tell me, dear Henrich,' answered the ingenuous girl; 'for I am sure you would never say the thing that is not.[*] But what do you mean by a Savior? Is it some one who will save you from the power of the evil spirit Hobbamock—the enemy of the red men?'