The Old Dominion

by Mary Johnston

  *CHAPTER XX*

  *WHEREIN THE PEACE PIPE IS SMOKED*

  The sun had some time passed the meridian when the party saw through thewidening glades of the forest the gleam of a great river, and upon itsbank an Indian village of perhaps fifty wigwams, set in fields of maizeand tobacco, groves of mulberries, and tangles of wild grape. Thetitanic laughter of Laramore and the drinking catch which Sir Charlestrolled forth at the top of a high, sweet voice had announced theirapproach long before they pushed their horses into the open; and thepopulation of the village was come forth to meet them with song anddance and in gala attire. The soft and musical voices of the youngwomen raised a kind of recitative wherein was lauded to the skies thevirtue, wisdom and power of the white father who had come from the banksof the Powhatan to those of the Pamunkey to visit his faithfulChickahominies, bringing (beyond doubt) justice in his hand. The deepertones of the men chimed in, and the mob of naked children, bringing upthe rear of the procession, added their shrill voices to the clamor,which, upon the booming in of a drum and the furious shaking of theconjurer's rattle, became deafening.

  The chant came to an end, but the orchestra persevered. Ten girls leftthe throng, formed themselves into line, and advancing one after theother with a slow and measured motion, laid at the feet of the Governor(who had dismounted) platters of parched maize, beans and chinquapins,with thin maize cakes. They were succeeded by two stalwart youthsbearing, slung upon a pole between them, a large buck which theydeposited upon the ground before the white men. There came a tremendouscrash from the drum, and a discordant scream from a long pipe made of areed. The crowd opened, and from out their midst stalked a venerableIndian.

  "My fathers are welcome," he said gravely.

  "Where is the half king?" demanded the Governor sharply. "I have notime for these fooleries. Make them stop that infernal racket, and leadus to your chiefs at once."

  The Indian frowned at this cavalier reception of the village civilities,but he waved his arm for the music to cease, and proceeded to conductthe visitors through a lane made by two rows of dusky bodies and staringfaces, to a large wigwam in the centre of the village. Before this hutstood a mulberry tree of enormous size, and seated upon billets of woodin the shade of its spreading branches were the half king of the tribeand the principal men of the village.

  Their faces and the upper portions of their bodies were painted red--thecolor of peace. They wore mantles of otter skins, and from their earsdepended strings of pearl and bits of copper. To the earring of thehalf king were attached two small, green snakes that twisted and writhedabout his neck; his body had been oiled and then plastered with smallfeathers of a brilliant blue, and upon his head was fastened a stuffedhawk with extended wings.

  To one side of this group stood a band of Indians, two score or more innumber, who differed in appearance and attire from the Chickahominies.The iron had entered the soul of the latter; they had the bearing of asubject race. Not so with the former. They were men of great size andstrength, with keen, fierce faces; their clothing was of the scantiestpossible description; ornaments they had, but of a peculiarkind--necklaces and armlets of human bones, belts in which long tufts ofsilk grass were interwoven with a more sinister fibre. They leaned ongreat bows, and each sternly motionless figure looked a bronze Murder.

  The chief of the Chickahominies raised his eyes from the ground as theGovernor and his party entered the circle. "My white fathers arewelcome," he said. "Let them be seated," and looked at the groundagain. The "white fathers" took possession of half a dozen billets, andwaited in silence the next move of the game. After a while, the halfking lifted from the log beside him a pipe with a stem a yard long and abowl in which an orange might have rested. An Indian, rising, went towhere a fire burned beneath a tripod, and returning with a live coalbetween his fingers, calmly and leisurely lighted the pipe. The halfking, still in dead silence, lifted it to his lips, smoked for fiveminutes, and handed it to the Indian, who bore it to the Governor. TheGovernor drew two or three tremendous whiffs and passed it on to ColonelVerney, who in his turn transferred it to the Surveyor-General. Whenthe monster pipe had been smoked by each of the white men, it went theround of the savages. An Indian summer haze began to settle around thecompany. Through it the patient gazing throng on the outskirts of thecircle became shadowy, impalpable; the face of the half king, now hiddenin shifting smoke wreaths, now darkly visible, like that of an easternidol before whom incense is burned. There was no sound save the wash ofthe waters below them, the sighing of the wind, the drone of the cicadasin the trees. The Indians sat like statues, but the white men were morerestive. The elders managed to restrain their impatience, but Laramorebegan to whistle, and when checked by a look from the Governor, turnedto Sir Charles with a comically disconsolate face and a shrug of theshoulders. Whereupon the latter drew from his pocket, dice and ahandful of gold pieces. Laramore's face brightened, and the two,screened from observation by the Colonel's shoulders, which were of thebroadest, fell to playing noiselessly, cursing beneath their breath.Mr. Peyton leaned his elbow on his knee, and his chin upon his hand, andallowed the dreamy beauty of the afternoon to overflow a poetic soul.

  At length, and when the patience of the whites was well-nigh exhausted,the pipe came back to where the half king sat with lowered eyes andimpassive face. He laid it down beside him and rose to his feet,gathering his mantle around him.

  "My white fathers are welcome," he said in a sonorous voice. "Verywelcome to the Chickahominies is the face of the white father, who rulesin the place of the great white father across the sea. Their corn feastis not yet, and yet my people rejoice. Our hearts were glad when myfather sent word that he would this day visit his faithfulChickahominies. Our ears are open: let my father speak."

  "I thank Harquip and his people for their welcome," said the Governorcoldly. "I have ever found them full of words. They profess loyalty tothe great white father beyond the seas, but they forget his good lawsand disobey his officers. I am weary of their words."

  "Tell me," said Harquip, with a sombre face, "are they good laws whichdrive us from our hunting grounds? Are they good laws which take fromus our maize fields? Does the great white father love to hear our womencry for food? or is his heart Indian and longs for the sound of the warwhoop?"

  "That is a threat," the Governor said sternly.

  The Indian waved his hands. "Have we not smoked the peace pipe?" hesaid coldly.

  "Humph!" said the Governor then, "I am not come to listen to idlecomplaints. Your grievances as to the land shall be laid before thenext Assembly, and it will pass judgment upon them--justly andrighteously, of course."

  "Ugh!" said the Indian.

  "I am here," continued the Governor, "to ask certain questions of theChickahominies, and to lay certain commands upon them which they will dowell to obey."

  "Let my father speak," said the Indian calmly.

  "Why did you shelter in your village the man with the red hair? Wordwas sent to all the tribes, to the Nansemonds, the Wyanokes, theCheskiacks, the Paspaheghs, the Pamunkeys, the Chickahominies, that heshould be delivered up if they found him among them. Why did theChickahominies hide him?"

  "In the night time, the red fox came to the village of theChickahominies and burrowed there. The eyes of my people were closed:they saw him not."

  "Humph! Why did you not carry your guns to the Court House when thetribes were ordered to do so, a fortnight ago, and leave them there,taking in exchange roanoke and fire-water?"

  "My fathers asked much," said the half king gloomily. "My young menlove their sticks-that-speak. They love to see the deer go down beforethem like maize before the hail storm. My fathers asked much."

  "How many guns has your village?"

  "Five," was the prompt reply.

  "Humph! To-morrow you will deliver ten guns to the captain of thetrainband at the court-house. When do these men," pointing to thestranger band, "
return to their tribe?"

  "They are our friends. They wait to dance the corn dance with us. Thenwill they return to the Blue Mountains, and will tell the Ricahecriansof the great things they have seen, and of the wisdom and power of mywhite fathers."

  "When is your corn feast?"

  "Seven suns hence."

  "They must be gone to-morrow."

  The face of the half king darkened, and there was a slight, instantlyrepressed movement among the circle of braves.

  "My father asks very much," said the half king with emphasis.

  "Not more than I can, and will, enforce," said the Governor sternly, andgetting to his feet as he spoke. "You, Harquip, shall be answerable tome and to the Council for these men's departure to-morrow. If bysunrise of the next morning their canoes are far up the river, headedfor the Blue Mountains, if by the same hour the guns which you haveretained in defiance of the express decree of the Assembly, be given upto those at the Court House, then will I overlook your hiding the manwith the red hair, and the Assembly will listen to your complaints as toyour hunting grounds. Disobey, and my warriors shall come, each with astick-that-speaks in his hand. I have spoken," and the Governorbeckoned to the servants who held the horses.

  The half king rose also. "My white father shall be obeyed," he saidwith gloomy dignity. "He is stronger than we. Otee has been angry withthe real men for many years. He is gone over to the palefaces and helpstheir god against the real men. My young men shall take their guns backto the palefaces to-morrow, and shall bring back fire-water, and we willdrink, and forget that the days of Powhatan are past and that Oteefights against us. Also when the Pamunkey is red with to-morrow'ssunset, my brothers from the Blue Mountains shall turn their faceshomewards. My father is content?"

  "I am content," said the Governor.

  "There is a thing which my brothers have to say to my white fathers,"continued the half king. "Will they hear the great chief, Black Wolf?"

  The Governor pulled out a great watch, glanced at it, and sighedresignedly. "Gentlemen, have patience a moment longer. Harquip, I willlisten to the Ricahecrian until the shadow of that tree reaches thefire. What says he?"

  The half king spoke to the strangers in their own tongue--their ranksbroke, and an Indian stalked forward to the centre of the circle. Histall, powerful, nearly nude figure was thickly tatooed withrepresentations of birds and beasts; he wore an armlet of a dull, yellowmetal ("Gold! by the Eternal!" ejaculated the Governor to ColonelVerney); over his naked, deeply scarred breast hung three strings ofhideous mementoes of torture stakes; the belt that held tomahawk andscalping knife was fringed with human hair; beside his streamingscalplock was stuck the dried hand of an enemy. The face beneath wascunning, relentless, formidable. He spoke in his own language, and thehalf king translated.

  "Black Wolf is a great chief. In his village in the Blue Mountains arefifty wigwams--the largest is his. There are a hundred braves--he leadsthe war parties. The Monacans run like deer, the hearts of theTuscaroras become soft, they hide behind their squaws! Black Wolf is agreat chief. Seven moons of cohonks have passed since the Ricahecrianssharpened their hatchets and came down from the mountains to where thewaters of Powhatan fall over many rocks. There they met the palefaces.The One above all was angry with his Ricahecrians. They saw for thefirst time the guns of the palefaces. They thought they were gods whospat fire at them and slew them with thunder. Their hearts became soft,and they fled before the strange gods. Some the palefaces slew, andsome they took prisoner. Black Wolf saw his brother, the great chiefGrey Wolf, fall. The Ricahecrians went back to the Blue Mountains, andtheir women raised the death chant for those whom they left stretchedout on the bank of the great river.... Seven times had the maizeripened, when Black Wolf led a war party against a tribe that dwelt onthe banks of the Pamunkey where a fallen pine might span it. The watersran red with blood. When there were no more Monacans to kill, when thefires had burnt low, Black Wolf looked down the waters of the Pamunkey.He had heard that it ran into a great water that was salt, whose furtherbank a man could not see. He had heard that the palefaces rode incanoes that had wings, great and white. He thought he would like toknow if these things were true, or if they were but tales of the singingbirds. To find out, Black Wolf and his young men dipped their oars intothe water of the Pamunkey, and rowed towards the moonrise. In themorning they met twenty men of the Pamunkeys in three canoes. ThePamunkeys lie deep in the slime of the river; the eels eat them; theirscalps shall hang before the wigwams of Black Wolf and his young men.In the afternoon, they drove their canoes into the reeds and went intothe forest to find meat. Black Wolf's arrow brought down a buck andthey feasted. Afterwards they caught a hunter who saw only the deer hewas chasing. They tied him to a tree and made merry with him. When hewas dead, they drew their boats from out the reeds, and rowed on downthe broadening river. The next day, at the time of the full sun-power,they came to this village. Many years before the palefaces came, theChickahominies were a great nation, reaching to the foot of the BlueMountains, and then were they and the Ricahecrians friends and allies.When Black Wolf showed them the totem of his tribe upon his breast, theywelcomed him and his young men. That was ten suns ago. Black Wolf andhis young men have seen many things. When they go back to the BlueMountains, the Ricahecrians will think they listen to singing birds.They will tell of the great salt water, of the boats with wings, of thepalefaces, of their fields of maize and tobacco, of the black men whoserve them, of their temples, werowanees and women. They will tell ofthe great white father who rules, of his power, his wisdom, his openhand--"

  "I thought it would come at last," quoth the Governor. "What does hewant, Harquip?"

  "The Ricahecrian starts for his wigwam in the Blue Mountains to-morrowas my father commands. He says: 'Shall I not return to my people with agift from the great white father in my hand?'"

  The Governor laughed. "Let one of your young men go to the court-house.I will give him an order for beads, for a piece of red cloth, and yes,rat me! he shall have a mirror! I hope he is satisfied!"

  The half king's eyes gleamed covetously. "My father gives large gifts.He has indeed an open hand. But the Ricahecrian desires another thing.He says: 'Seven years ago, at the falls of the Powhatan, Black Wolf sawhis brother fall before the stick-that-speaks of the palefaces. GreyWolf was a great chief. The village in the Blue Mountains mourned verymuch. Nicotee, his squaw, went wailing into the land of shadows. Hisson hath seen but seven moons of corn, but he dreams of the day when heshall sharpen the hatchet against the slayers of his father.... TheChickahominies have told Black Wolf that his brother was wounded and notslain by the palefaces. They brought him captive to their great boardwigwams. There they tied him not to the torture stake; they knew that aRicahecrian laughs at the pine splinters. They tortured his spirit.They made him a woman. The great chief of the Ricahecrians no longerthrows the tomahawk--the guns of the palefaces are about him. He dancesthe corn dance no more--his back is bowed with burdens. His arrow bringsnot down the fleeing deer, he tracks not the bear to his den--he toilslike a squaw in the fields of the palefaces. Black Wolf says to thewhite father: 'Give back the Sagamore to the Ricahecrians, to his son,to the village by the falling stream in the Blue Mountains. Then willthe Ricahecrians be friends with the palefaces forever. To-morrow BlackWolf and his young men row towards the sunset; let the captive chief bein their midst. This is the gift which Black Wolf asks of his whitefathers. He has spoken.'"

  In the midst of a dead silence the half king took his seat and studiedthe ground. The Chickahominies, squatted round the circle, stirred nota finger, and the outer row of spectators, motionless against abackground of interlacing branches patched with vivid blue, seemed aprocession in tapestry. The Ricahecrians and their formidable chiefmaintained a stony gloom. Whatever interest they felt in the fate oftheir captive chief was carefully concealed. The sun, now hanging,broad and red, low in the heavens might have been the Gorgon's head andt
he whole village staring at it.

  The Governor began to laugh. Sir Charles chimed in musically andLaramore followed suit. The Surveyor-General frowned, but the Colonel,after one or two attempts at sobriety of demeanor, succumbed, and thetrio became a quartette. The glades of the forest rang to the jovialsound--it was as though there were enchantment in the golden afternoon,or in the ring of dark and frowning countenances before them, for theylaughed as though they would never stop. Even the servants at thehorses' heads were infected, and laughed at they knew not what.

  The Surveyor-General lost patience. "I think the Jamestown weed growethin these woods," he said dryly.

  The Governor pulled himself together. "Faith! I believe you areright!" he said airily. "But rat me! if the impudence of the varlets benot the most amusing thing since the Quaker's plea for toleration!"

  "The amusement seems to be on our side," said the Surveyor-General.

  The Governor cast a careless glance in the direction indicated by theother. "Pshaw! a fit of the sulks! They will get over it. Is thisprecious captive the giant whom I have seen at Rosemead, MajorCarrington?"

  "Not so, your Excellency. My man is a Susquehannock."

  "I believe I may lay claim to the fellow, Sir William," said theColonel, wiping his eyes.

  "Is he the Indian who was whipt the other day?" asked Sir Charles,taking snuff.

  "For stealing fire-water--yes."

  The Governor began to laugh again. "Of course you will release therascal, Colonel? The Blue Mountains threaten war if you do not. Flingyourself into the breach, and so prevent a 'scandal to the community anda menace to the State,' to quote your words of this morning.Consistency is a jewel, Dick the Peacemaker. Wherefore let the savagego."

  "I 'll be d--d if I do!" cried the Colonel.

  The Governor, shaking with laughter, got to his feet. At a signal hisgroom brought up his horse and held the stirrup for him to mount. HisExcellency swung himself into the saddle and gathered the reins into hisgauntleted hands; the remainder of the company, too, got to horse. TheGovernor's steed, a fiery, coal black Arabian, danced with impatience.

  "Selim scents a fray!" cried his Excellency. "Come on, gentlemen!'Twill be sunset before we reach that sweet piece of earth behindVerney's orchard."

  The half king rose from his scat, took three measured strides, and stoodside by side with the Ricahecrian chief.

  "My white father will give to the Ricahecrian the gift he asks?"

  A gust of passion took the Governor. "No!" he thundered, turning in hissaddle. "The Ricahecrian may go to the devil and the Blue Mountainsalone!" He struck spurs into his horse's sides. "Gentlemen, we wastetime!"

  The Arabian dashed down one of the winding glades of the forest; theremainder of the party spurred their horses into the mad gallop known asthe "planter's pace," and in an instant the whole cavalcade had whirledout of sight. A burst of laughter, made elfin by distance, came back tothe village on the banks of the Pamunkey, then all was quiet again. Thegold-laced, audacious company had vanished like a troop of powerfulenchanters, leaving behind them a sullen throng of native genii, keptdown by a Solomon's Seal which is _not_ always unbreakable.

  Something stirred in the midst of the great mulberry tree, a tree sovast and leafy that it, might have hidden many things. A man swunghimself down with a lithe grace from limb to limb, and finally droppedinto the circle of Indians who stood or sat in a sombre stillness whichmight mean much or little. Only on the outskirts the crowd of women,children and youths, had commenced a low, monotonous, undefined noisewhich had in it something sinister, ominous. It was like the sound,dull and heavy, of the ground swell that precedes the storm. The manwho dropped from the tree was Luiz Sebastian, and his appearance seemedin no degree to surprise the Indians. There followed a short andsententious conversation between the mulatto, the half king and theRicahecrian chief. Beside the half king lay the still smoking peacepipe. When the colloquy was ended, he raised it. At a signal an Indianbrought water in a gourd, and into it the half king plunged the glowingbowl. The fire went out in a cloud of hissing steam. The sound of theground swell became louder and more threatening.