CHAPTER XI.
So should it be--for no heart beats
Within his cold and silent breast;
To him no gentle voice repeats
The soothing words that make us blest.
--PEABODY.
The interruption came from Dorothy, who, on ascending the little
height, had discovered a canoe coming into the mouth of the river,
and who was running, breathless with haste, to announce the
circumstance to the bee-hunter. The latter immediately repaired to
the eminence, and saw for himself the object that so justly had
alarmed the woman. The canoe was coming in from the lake, after
running before the wind, which now began to abate a little in its
strength, and it evidently had been endeavoring to proceed to the
northward. The reason for its entering the river, was probably
connected with the cookery or food of the party, since the lake was
each minute getting to be safer, and more navigable for so light a
craft. To le Bourdon's great apprehension, he saw the savages on the
north shore making signal to this strange canoe, by means of smoke,
and he foresaw the probability of his enemies obtaining the means of
crossing the stream, should the strangers proceed in the desired
direction. To counteract this design, he ran down to a spot on the
beach where there was no rice-plant, and showing himself to the
strangers, invited them to land on the south side, which was much
the nearest, and in other visible respects quite as convenient as
the opposite bank of the river. One of the strangers soon made a
gesture with an arm, implying assent, and the bows of this strange
canoe were immediately turned toward the spot where the bee-hunter
stood.
As the canoe drew near, the whole party, including Pigeonswing, came
to the margin of the water to receive the strangers. Of the last,
there were three; one paddling at each end of the light bark, and a
third seated in its centre, doing nothing. As the bee-hunter had his
glass, with which he examined these visitors, he was soon questioned
by his companions concerning their character and apparent purposes.
"Who are they, Bourdon?" demanded the impatient Margery--"and why do
they come here?"
"The last is a question they must answer for themselves, but the
person paddling in the bows of the canoe seems to be a white man,
and a soldier--or a half-soldier, if one may judge from his dress.
The man in the middle of the canoe is white, also. This last fellow
seems to be a parson--yes, he is a clergyman, though pretty well
used up in the wilderness, as to dress. The third man is a red-skin,
beyond all doubt."
"A clergyman!" repeated Margery, in surprise. "What should a
clergyman be doing here?"
"There are missionaries scattered about among the savages, I suppose
you know, and this is probably one of them. A body can tell one of
these parsons by his outside, as far as he can see him. The poor man
has heard of the war, most likely, and is trying to get back into
the settlements, while his scalp is safe on his head."
"Don't hurt HIM" put in the Chippewa, pointedly. "Know MEAN well--
talk about Great Spirit--Injin don't scalp sich medicine-men--if
don't mind what he say, no good to take his scalp."
"I'm glad to hear this, Pigeonswing, for I had begun to think NO
man's scalp was safe under YOUR fingers. But what can the so'ger be
doing down this-away? A body would think there was business enough
for all the so'gers up at the garrison, at the head of the lake. By
the way, Pigeonswing, what has become of your letter to the captain
at Fort Dearborn, to let him know of the war?"
"Chaw him up, like so much 'baccy," answered the Chippewa--"yes,
chaw him up, lest Pottawattamie get hold on him, and ask one of King
George's men to read him. No good to hab letter in sich times."
"The general who employed you to carry that letter, will scarce
thank you for your care."
"Yes, he do--t'ank all same--pay all same--letter no use now."
"How can you know that? The letter might be the means of preventing
the garrison from falling into the enemy's hands."
"Got dere, already. Garrison all kill, scalp, or prisoner.
Pottawattamie talk tell me DAT"
"Is this possible! Mackinaw and Chicago both gone, already! John
Bull must have been at work among the savages a long time, to get
them into this state of readiness!"
"Sartain--work long as can 'member. ALWAY somebody talkin' for great
Montreal Fadder among red men."
"It must be as you say, Chippewa--but, here are our visitors--let us
see what we can make of THEM"
By this time, the canoe was so near as to render it easy to
distinguish countenances and dress, without the aid of the glass--so
near, indeed, that a swift-moving boat, like the canoe, might be
expected soon to reach the shore. The truth of the observation of
the bee-hunter was confirmed, as the strangers approached. The
individual in the bows of the canoe was clearly a soldier, in a
fatigue-dress, and the musket between his legs was one of those
pieces that government furnishes to the troops of the line. The man
in the middle of the boat could no more be mistaken than he in its
bows. Each might be said to be in uniform--the well-worn, nay,
almost threadbare black coat of the "minister," as much denoting him
to be a man of peace, as the fatigue-jacket into "batteries"; to all
of which innovations, bad as they may be, and useless and uncalled
for, and wanton as they are, we are much more willing to submit,
than to the new-fangled and lubberly abomination of saying "ON a
steamboat," or "ON a ship."
While le Bourdon was so much astounded at hearing the terrible name
of Onoah, which was familiar enough to him, neither of his white
companions betrayed any emotion. Had the Indian been termed
"Scalping Peter," it is probable that both Dorothy and Margery would
have screamed, if not actually fled; but they knew nothing of the
appellation that was given to this mysterious chief, in the language
of the red men. To this circumstance, therefore, was it owing that
the utterance of his name did not produce a general commotion. The
bee-hunter observed, nevertheless, a great change in the demeanor of
the Chippewa, the instant the missionary had uttered the ominous
word, though he did not seem to be alarmed. On the contrary, Boden
fancied that his friend Pigeonswing was pleased, rather than
terrified, at ascertaining the character of their visitor, though he
no longer put himself forward, as had been the case previously; and
from that moment the young warrior appeared to carry himself in a
more subdued and less confident manner than was his wont. This
unexpected demeanor on the part of his friend, somewhat confounded
le Bourdon, though it in a degree relieved his apprehensions of any
immediate danger. All this time, the conversation between the
missionary and the corporal went on in as quiet and composed a
manner, as if each saw no ground for any other uneasiness than that
connected with the fall of Mackinaw.
"Yes, sir," returned the soldier, "Onoah is a good guide, and a
great hand at a council-fire; but these is war-times, and we must
stand to our arms, each accordin' to his edication and temper--you,
sir, with preachin' and prayin', and I with gun and baggonet."
"Ah! corporal, the preaching and praying would be of quite as much
account with you men of war, as your arms and ammunition, if you
could only be made to think so. Look at Fort Dearborn! It was
defended by human means, having its armed band, and its guns and
swords, and captains and corporals; yet you have seen their pride
lowered, their means of defence destroyed, and a large part of your
comrades massacred. All this has been done to armed men, while the
Lord has brought ME, an unarmed and humble teacher of his word,
safely out of the hands of the Philistines, and placed me here in
safety, on the shores of the Kalamazoo."
"For that matter, Mr. Amen, the Lord has done the same by ME, with a
musket on my shoulder and a baggonet by my side," returned the
literal corporal. "Preachin' may be good on some marches; but arms
and ammunition answers well enough on others. Hearken to the Hebrew,
who knows all the ways of the wilderness, and see if he don't give
you the same opinion." "The Hebrew is one of the discarded of the
Lord, as he is one chosen of the Lord!" returned the missionary. "I
agree with you, however, that he is as safe an adviser, for a human
adviser, as can be easily found; therefore will I consult him. Child
of the seed of Abraham," he added, turning to Onoah, "thou hast
heard the tidings from Mackinaw; we cannot think, any longer, of
pursuing our journey in that direction; whither, then, wouldst thou
advise that we shall direct our steps? I ask this question of THEE
first, as an experienced and sagacious dweller in the wilderness: at
a more fitting time, I intend to turn to the Lord, and seek divine
aid for the direction of our footsteps."
"Aye," observed the corporal, who entertained a good deal of respect
for the zealous, but slightly fanatical missionary, though he
believed an Indian was always safe to consult in matters of this
sort, "try BOTH--if one staff should fail, it may be well to have
another to lean on. A good soldier always keeps a part of his troops
for a reserve. I motto of his coat of arms; the "gare a qui la
touchc," or "noli me tangere," of his device."
The head was shaved, as is usual with a warrior, carrying only the
chivalrous scalp-lock, but the chief was not in his paint. The
outline of this celebrated savage's features was bold and eagle-
like; a comparison that his steady, calm, piercing eye well
sustained. The chin was full and expanded, the lips compressed and
firm, the teeth were short, but even and sound, his smile courteous,
and, at times, winning.
In the way of attire, Onoah was simply dressed, consulting the
season and his journey. He had a single eagle's feather attached to
the scalp-lock, and wore a belt of wampum of more than usual value,
beneath which he had thrust his knife and tomahawk; a light, figured
and fringed hunting-shirt of cotton covered his body, while leggings
of deerskin, with a plain moccasin of similar material, rose to his
knee. The latter, with the lower part of a stout sinewy thigh, was
bare. He also carried a horn and pouch, and a rifle of the American
rather than of the military fashion that is, one long, true, and
sighted to the deviation of a hair.
On landing, Peter (for so he was generally called by the whites,
when in courtesy they omitted the prefix of "Scalping") courteously
saluted the party assembled around the bow of the canoe. This he did
with a grave countenance, like a true American, but in simple
sincerity, so far as human eye could penetrate his secret feelings.
To each man he offered his hand, glancing merely at the two females;
though it may be questioned if he ever before had looked upon so
perfect a picture of female loveliness as Margery at that precise
instant presented, with her face flushed with excitement, her
spirited blue eye wandering with curiosity, and her beautiful mouth
slightly parted in admiration.
"Sago, sago!" said Peter, in his deep, guttural enunciation,
speaking reasonably good English. "Sago, sago all, ole and young,
friend come to see you, and eat in your wigwam--which head--chief,
eh?"
"We have neither wigwam nor chief here," answered le Bourdon, though
he almost shrunk from taking the hand of one of whom he had heard
the tales of which this savage had been the hero; "we are common
people, and have no one among us who holds the States' commission. I
live by taking honey, of which you are welcome to all you can want,
and this man is a helper of the sutlers at the garrisons. He was
travelling south to join the troops at the head of the lake, and I
was going north to Mackinaw, on my way in, toward the settlements."
"Why is my brother in such haste?" demanded Peter, mildly. "Bees get
tired of making honey?"
"The times are troubled, and the red men have dug up the hatchet; a
pale-face cannot tell when his wigwam is safe."
"Where my brodder wigwam?" asked Peter, looking warily around him.
"See he an't here; where is he?"
"Over in the openings, far up the Kalamazoo. We left it last week,
and had got to the hut on the other shore, when a party of
Pottawattamies came in from the lake, and drove us over here for
safety."
On hearing this, Peter turned slowly to the missionary, raising a
finger as one makes a gesture to give emphasis to his words.
"Tole you so," said the Indian. "Know dere was Pottawattamie dere.
Can tell 'em great way off."
"We fear them, having women in our party," added the bee-hunter,
"and think they might fancy our scalps."
"Dat like enough; all Injin love scalp in war-time. You Yankee, dey
Br'ish; can't travel on same path now, and not quarrel. Must not let
Pottawattamie catch you."
"How are we to help it, now you have come in? We had all the canoes
on this side of the river, and were pretty safe, but should you
cross and place your canoe in their hands, there is nothing to
prevent them from doing what they please with us. If you will
promise not to cross the river till we can get out well on the lake,
we may shift our ground, however, and leave no trail."
"Muss cross over--yes, muss cross over, else Pottawattamie t'ink it
strange--yes, muss cross over. Shan't touch canoe, dough."
"How can you help it, if they be so minded? You are but a single
man, and they are twenty."
On hearing this, Corporal Flint pricked up his ears, and stood if
possible more erect than ever, for he considered himself a part of a
man at least, and one moreover who had served in all the wars of the
west, from the great battle of St. Glair to that of Mad Anthony. He
was spared the necessity of a reply, however, for Peter made a
significant gesture which as much as told him that he would take
that office on himself.
"No need be afeard," said Peter, quietly. "Know Pottawattamie--know
all chief. Nobody touch canoe of Onoah when he say don't touch him."
"Yet they are Injins of the British, and I see you here in company
with a soldier of Uncle Sam."
"No matter; Onoah go just where he please. Sometime to
Pottawattamie; sometime to Iroquois. All Ojebways know Onoah. All
Six Nation know him well. All Injin know him. Even Cherokee know him
now, and open ears when he speak. Muss cross river, and shake hand
with Crowsfeather."
There was nothing boastful, or vaunting, in Peter's manner while he
thus announced his immunity or power, but he alluded to it in a
quiet, natural way, like one accustomed to being considered a
personage of consequence. Mankind, in general, make few allowances
for the influence of habit; the sensibilities of the vainglorious
themselves being quite as often wounded by the most natural and
direct allusions of those who enjoy advantages superior to their
own, as by those that are intended to provoke comparisons. In the
present instance, however, no such feeling could exist, the Indian
asserting no more than his extended reputation would fully maintain.
When Peter had thus expressed himself, the missionary thought it
meet to add a few words in explanation. This he did, however, aside,
walking a little apart with the bee-hunter, in order so to do. As
for Gershom, no one seemed to think him of sufficient importance to
throw away any interest or care on him.
"You can trust to Peter, friend bee-hunter," the missionary
observed, "for what he promises he will perform. I know him well,
and have put myself altogether in his hands. If he says that the
Pottawattamies are not to have his canoe, the Pottawattamies will
not get it. He is a man to be depended on."
"Is not this, then, Scalping Peter, who bears so terrible a name on
all this frontier?" demanded le Bourdon.
"The same; but do not disturb yourself with names: they hurt no one,
and will soon be forgotten. A descendant of Abraham, and of Isaac,
and of Jacob, is not placed in the wilderness by the hand of divine
power for no purpose; since he is here, rely on it, it is for good."
"A descendant of Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob! Is not Peter, then,
a red-skin and an Injin?"
"Certainly; though no one knows his tribe but himself. I know it,
friend bee-hunter, and shortly shall proclaim it throughout the
length and breadth of the land. Yes, it has been given to me to make
this important discovery, though I sometimes think that Peter
himself is really as ignorant as all around him of the tribe to
which he properly belongs."
"Do you wish to keep it a secret from me, too? I own that, in my
eyes, the tribe of a red-skin goes a good way in making up my
opinions of the man. Is he a Winnebagoe?"
"No, my friend, the Winnebagoes have no claims on him at all."
"Nor a Pottawattamie, Ottawa, or Ojebway of any sort?"
"He is none of these. Peter cometh of a nobler tribe than any that
beareth such names."
"Perhaps he is an Injin of the Six Nations? They tell me that many
such have found their way hither since the war of the revolution."
"All that may be true, but Peter cometh not of Pottawattamie,
Ottawa, nor Ojebway."
"He can hardly be of the Sacs or the Foxes; he has not the
appearance of an Injin from a region so far west"
"Neither, neither, neither," answered Parson Amen, now so full of
his secret as fairly to let it overflow. "Peter is a son of Israel;
one of the lost children of the land of Judea, in common with many
of his red brethren-mind, I do not say ALL, but with MANY of his red
brethren--though he may not know exactly of what tribe himself. This
last point has exercised me greatly, and days and nights have I
pondered over the facts. Turn to Genesis XLIX and 14th, and there
will you find all the authorities recorded. 'Zebulon shall dwell at
the haven of the sea.' That refers to some other red brother, nearer
to the coast, most clearly. 'Issachar is a strong ass, crouching
down between two burdens'; 'and bowed his shoulder to bear, and
became a servant unto tribute.' That refers, most manifestly, to the
black man of the Southern States, and cannot mean Peter. 'Dan shall
be a serpent by the way, an adder in the path.' There is the red man
for you, drawn with the pencil of truth! 'Gad, a troop shall
overcome him.' Here, corporal, come this way and tell our new friend
how Mad Anthony with his troopers finally routed the red-skins. You
were there, and know all about it. No language can be plainer: until
the 'long-knives and leather-stockings' came into the woods, the red
man had his way. Against THEM he COULD not prevail."
"Yes," returned Corporal Flint, who delighted in talking of the
wars, "it was very much as Parson Amen says. The savages, by their
nimbleness and artifices, would first ambush us, and then break away
from our charges, until the gin'ral bethought him of bringing
cavalry into the wilderness. Nobody ever thought of such a plan,
until old Anthony invented it. As soon as we got the fire of the
savages, at the Mawmee, we charged with the baggonet, and put 'em
up; and no sooner was they up, than away went the horse into them,
flourishing the 'long knife' and pressing the heel of the 'leather-
stocking' into the flanks of their beasts. Mr. Amen has found a
varse in Scriptur's that does come near to the p'int, and almost
foretells our victory, and that, too, as plain as it stood in
dispatches, arterward, from headquarters."
"'Gad, a TROOP shall overcome him,'" put in the missionary,
triumphantly.
"That's it--that's it; there was just one troop on 'em, and not a
man more! Mad Anthony said a troop would answer, arter we had put
the red-skins up out of their ambushes, or any other bushes; and so
it did. I must acknowledge that I think more of the Scriptur's than
ever, since Parson Amen read to me that varse."
"Hearken unto this, friend bee-hunter," added the missionary, who by
this time had fairly mounted his hobby, and fancied he saw a true
Israelite in every other Indian of the west, "and tell me if words
were ever more prophetic--'Benjamin shall ravin as a wolf; in the
morning he shall devour his prey, and at night he shall divide the
spoil.' The art of man could not draw a more faithful picture of
these Indians."
Boden was not much skilled in sacred lore, and scarce knew what to
make of all this. The idea that the American Indians were the
descendants of the lost tribes of Israel was entirely new to him;
nor did he know anything to boast of, touching those tribes, even in
their palmiest days, and while in possession of the promised land;
still he had some confused recollection of that which he had read
when a child--what American has not?--and was enabled to put a
question or two, in return for the information now received. "What,
do you take the savages of America for Jews?" he asked,
understanding the general drift of the missionary's meaning.
"As sure as you are there, friend bee-hunter, though you are not to
suppose that I think Peter Onoah of the tribe of Benjamin. No, I
turn to the 21st verse for the tribe of Peter Naphthali--Naphthalis,
the root of his stock. 'Naphthali is a hind, let loose: he giveth
goodly words.' Now, what can be plainer than this? A hind let loose
is a deer running at large, and, by a metaphor, that deer includes
the man that hunts him. Now, Peter has been--nay, is still--a
renowned hunter, and is intended to be enumerated among the hinds
let loose; 'he giveth goodly words,' would set that point at rest,
if anything were wanting to put it beyond controversy, for Onoah is
the most eloquent speaker ear ever listened to! No one, that has
ever heard him speak, can doubt that he is the one who 'giveth
goodly words.'"
To what other circumstance the well-intentioned missionary would
next have alluded, in the course of this demonstration of a theory
that had got to be a favorite with him, is more than can now be
related, since the Indian himself drew near, and put an end to the
conversation. Peter had made up his mind to cross the river at once;
and came to say as much to his companions, both of whom he intended
to leave behind him. Le Bourdon could not arrest this movement,
short of an appeal to force; and force he did not like to use,
doubting equally its justice and its prudence.
