CHAPTER XIV
And what was Edith's journey? Would the reader have me present it as apicture--as it appeared to her after it was over--massed together inits extraordinary rapidity, and seen but from one point at the end?
Swiftly skimming in a bark canoe upon the glossy bosoms of the lovelylakes, which reflected every hue of herb and tree, and sky andmountain, darting along bright and sparkling streams, sometimesbeneath the overhanging canopy of boughs, sometimes under the pureblue eye of heaven. Often struggling with a rapid, often having topass along the shore to turn a waterfall; at times walking alongthrough the glowing woods, burning with the intense coloring ofautumn; at times surrounded by a number of Indians, each renderingquiet, earnest service to the adopted daughter of the great Oneidachief; at times wandering on in the dim forest, with no one but hertwo dark attendants near; now the fierce howl of the midnight wolfsounding in her ear; now the sharp, garrulous cry of the blue jay; nowthe shrill scream of the woodhaw. Now the Indian lodge or castle, asthe Iroquois sometimes called their dwellings, now the brown canopy ofthe autumn wood covered her; but still, under the skillful guidanceand with the eager help of the two negroes, she went forward withextraordinary rapidity, leaving miles and miles behind her every hour.It seemed almost like a pleasant dream, or at least it would haveseemed so had the sad and fearful motives which led her on been everbanished from her mind. Even as it was, the variety of the objects,the constant succession of new matters of interest, the events, smallin themselves, but important to her, which occurred to facilitate orimpede her progress, were all a relief to her overcharged mind, andshe reached the Oneida territory less depressed than when she set outfrom her home.
One cause, perhaps, of the feeling of renewed strength which sheexperienced was a renewal of hope from the conduct of the Indianstoward her wherever she met them. She found that even amongst theMohawks she was recognized at once as the adopted daughter of thegreat Oneida chief; and it was evident that he had spread far andwide, as he returned to his own abode after the conference at JohnsonCastle, the fact of his having adopted the daughter of the paleface,Prevost. There is always something, too, in the fact of an enterprisebeing actually commenced, which gives spirit to pursue it to the end.While we stand and gaze at it from a distance, hesitating whether weshall undertake it or not, the difficulties are magnified, thefacilities obscured; the rock and precipice rise up threateningly toour imagination, while the small paths by which they may be surmountedare unseen.
Day had yet an hour of life when Edith approached what we find calledin the history of the times, "The Castle of the Oneidas." "Wigwam" itis customary to name all the Indian villages, giving an idea ofinsignificance and meanness, and completely savage state, which theprincipal residences of the Five Nations did not at that time merit.Most of them were very like that which Edith now approached. It wasbuilt upon a slight elevation near the lake, with a large protrudingrock near it; for the Oneidas always affected near their dwelling somesymbol significant of their favorite appellation, "The Children of theStone." Around it were high palisades, enclosing a considerable area,within which the huts of the Indians were constructed. Risingconsiderably above the rest were two wooden buildings, in the erectionof which European workmanship was apparent. The one was a large,oblong building, regularly roofed and shingled, like that of anyEnglish settler. It consisted of two stories, and in the upper oneregular framed windows were to be seen. In the lower story there werenone, light being admitted by the door. That lower story, however, wasfloored by plain pine boards, and divided by a sort of curtain intotwo equal compartments. The other building bore the appearance of achurch in miniature, with a small cottage or hut attached, which wasin reality the residence of the missionary, Mr. Gore.
Even Edith was surprised to see the home of Otaitsa so different fromthe ideas conveyed to her by the wandering traders, who even whilecarrying on commercial intercourse with the tribes, were in a state ofsemi-hostility toward the Indians, representing them as bloodysavages, and cheating them whenever they could.
Slowly walking on between her two negro companions, for she was tiredwith a longer walk than usual, Edith approached the open gates of theCastle and met with no opposition in entering. A tall, handsomewarrior passed out, fully clothed in Indian costume, and only markedout from any civilized man by the shaved head and the painfullysignificant scalp-lock. His step was stately and calm, and his airgrave and reserved. Twice he turned his eyes upon Edith's face, with alook of evident wonder and admiration, but he took no farther notice,and passed on. He was the only man whom she saw on entering thevillage, till after passing through many huts, where women andchildren were to be seen busily employed, she came in sight of thedoor of the chief's house, and beheld there a figure seated on theground, quietly engaged in the art of embroidery, after the fashion inwhich the Indian women so greatly excel.
It was a figure which she knew well; and the tranquil air and easygrace, as well as the quiet, peaceful employment, showed Edith at oncethat she had not been mistaken in supposing that Otaitsa wasaltogether ignorant of the peril of one dear to them both. As she camenear, she heard the Indian girl, in her happy ignorance, singing asweet but somewhat plaintive song; and the next moment, Otaitsa,raising her eyes, beheld the three figures, and at once perceived thatthey were not of her people.
For an instant she did not recognize Edith in her Indian garb; butwhen she did recognize her, the emotion produced was alarm rather thanjoy. She felt at once that some great and important event--someoccurrence full of peril or of sorrow--must have brought Ediththither. The beautiful lips parted with a tremulous motion; the largedark eye, Indian in its color, but European in its form, became fullof anxiety; the rosy color of her cheek, which probably had obtainedfor her the name of the Blossom, faded away, and paleness spread overthe clear brown skin. Starting up, however, she cast the embroideryaway from her, and springing forward, threw her arms around Edith'sneck. Then, as her hand rested on her fair companion's shoulder, sheasked in a whisper: "What is it, my sister? There must be a storm inthe sky--there must be lightning in the cloud! What tempest wind hasswept my sister hither? What flood of sorrow has borne Edith toOtaitsa?"
"Hush!" said Edith, in a low tone, for there were some other Indianwomen near. "I will tell my sister when no ears can hear but her own.There is tempest in the sky. A pine tree has fallen across thethreshold of my father's house, and we are sad for fear the hatchet ofthe woodman should lop all its green branches away. Can I speak withthe Blossom speedily, and in secret?"
"Instantly," answered Otaitsa. "The warriors have all gone forth tohunt for three days the bear and the moose. The Black Eagle is withthem. There are but three men of deeds in the Castle, now, and whythey are women now and go not forth to the hunting with the rest, Icannot tell. But they are little within the palisade--daily they goforth, and remain absent long. Come in hither, my sister, for thoughfew here speak the tongue we speak, it were better not to let the windhear us."
"Can some of the women give food and lodging to these two negroes?"asked Edith, adding: "They have been well warned, and know that a lifedepends upon their silence."
Otaitsa called to an elderly Indian woman who was cooking at the doorof a cabin near, and placed Chaudo and his companion under her charge.She then turned to Edith, saying: "Come, my sister;" but before theyentered the building, Edith inquired if Mr. Gore was there, saying:"Perhaps he might give us counsel."
"My father sent him away some days ago," answered Otaitsa. "He willnot be back for a month, perhaps longer. I think he has sent him tosecure him from danger."
"Alas," said Edith, "that the danger should have fallen upon others!"
"Alas! alas!" said Otaitsa, and Edith felt her hand tremble much asshe led her into the building.
A staircase, rude indeed, but still a staircase, led from the morebarnlike part of the building below to the upper floor, and in thisrespect appeared the first difference between this house--for itdeserved the name--and the lodge, or castle, o
f King Hendrick theyounger, though both had been built by European workmen, and that ofKing Hendrick at the cost of the British government, which was not thecase with the dwelling of the Oneida chief. As soon, however, as youreached the upper floor, the differences became more frequent and moreremarkable. It was partitioned off into rooms, with regular doorsbetween them; and when Edith entered the chamber of Otaitsa she saw atonce how she acquired European habits. Of rude manufacture, but stillvery correct as imitations, and not without a certain degree ofuncouth ornament, were chairs, tables, and writing materials, abedstead and a bed; and from wooden pegs, driven into the partition,depended some sketches--some colored, some in pencil, but all verydifferent from the gaudy daubs which, at a later period, peddlers wereaccustomed to take into the Indian territory as articles of barter.
As Edith's eye glanced around, it gleaned a general notion of allthese things, but her mind was too full of deeper and sadder thoughtsto suffer even curiosity to turn it from its course for a moment.
"There is no one in any other chamber here," said Otaitsa, "None comesup these stairs but myself and my father. Now, Edith, speak, forOtaitsa's heart is very heavy and her mind misgives her sadly. Is ityour father they have taken?"
"No; oh no!" answered Edith, "but one as dear;" and she went onbriefly to relate all that had occurred, endeavoring to soften andprepare the way for intelligence which she feared would affect theIndian girl much. But Otaitsa darted at her own conclusions, diviningthe whole truth almost as soon as the words were spoken. She was farmore affected than Edith had anticipated. She cast herself upon herfair companion's neck and wept aloud.
"He was mine, Edith," she said, in the full confidence of sorrow."He was mine, my betrothed, my loved; and they have hidden it fromme--hidden it from all the Indian women here, for they knew thateveryone in the tribe loved him, though not so well as I. Where wasthe poor wanderer who passed your house with her infant on her backwho did not receive kindness from Walter Prevost? Where was the Indiangirl who could say he did not treat her with as kindly gentleness asthe highest white woman in the land? He was the tree which had grownup to shelter the hut of the woodman, giving him cool shade andcomfort in the days of summer and of gladness, to be cut down andburnt for fire when the winter winds are singing in the bare branches.Oh, my brother, my brother, bad is the return they make thee, and hardthe measure that they deal. But shall Otaitsa suffer this?" she cried,rising vehemently, and casting her arms abroad. "Shall the Black Eaglelet the ravens pick out the eyes of his young in his own nest? No! mysister, no! They shall take Otaitsa's blood first. They shall shakethe Blossom from the old bough that is no longer able to bear it upagainst the winds of heaven. If the Black Eagle can no longer protecteven his daughter's husband, let him cast away the tomahawk, let himlay down the rifle, and be a woman amongst the chiefs of his people!"
It was impossible for some minutes to stop her vehement burst ofpassionate sorrow; but at length Edith succeeded in somewhat calmingher, beseeching her to still her agitation and her anger, and to bendher whole mind to the consideration of what means could best be usedto discover whither Walter had been taken, and to rescue him from theperil in which he was placed.
As soon as Otaitsa could listen, however, or rather as soon as shecaught the sense of Edith's words, and appreciated their importance,it was wonderful how rapidly she became calm, how soon she stilled allthe strong and struggling emotions in her heart, and directed everyeffort and energy of her spirit to the one great object before her.Enough of the Indian blood flowed along her veins, enough of Indiancharacteristics had been acquired in early youth, to give her aportion of that strong, stoical self-command which characterized theIndian warrior rather than the woman of the race. The first burst ofgrief showed the woman, and, perhaps, in some degree, not the pureIndian; but the moment after, those who knew the character of the FiveNations best, might have supposed her not only a pure Indian, but aman and a chief, so quietly did she reason upon and ponder the meansof accomplishing her purpose. She remained, at first, for two or threeminutes in perfect silence, revolving all the circumstances in hermind, and calculating every chance. But then she said: "The firstthing, Edith, is for you to go back to your poor father; not that youare in any danger, but it were well, if possible, that no one knew youhad been with me, at least till I have discovered where they have hidour poor brother. The women here will all aid me, and never part theirlips, if I desire them not; for though the men think they are veryshrewd in hiding the secrets of the nation from their wives anddaughters, the women, when they please, can be as secret and asresolute, too. At all events, whether your coming be known or not, itwould be better you should go back before the chiefs return. They havegone forth to hunt, they say; but whether it be the black bear, or thebrown deer, or the white man, is in great doubt, dear Edith. At allevents, they will not know the object of your coming. They maysuspect, and probably will, that you came to inquire for your brother;but knowing that I was ignorant of his capture, and am still ignorantof where they keep him, they will think you have gone backdisappointed and in sorrow, and leave me unwatched, to act as I will."
"But can I do nothing to aid?" asked Edith. "Remember, dearestBlossom, what it is to remain inactive and ignorant while the fate ofone so near and so dear hangs in the balance."
"You shall not remain in ignorance, dear Edith," replied Otaitsa."With every possible opportunity (and I will find many) my sistershall know what the Blossom does; and if there be any way by which youcould give help, you shall have instant tidings. At present I know notwhat is to be done to save our Walter from the power of the Snake. Iknow not, even, what they have decided themselves, or whether theyhave taken any decision; and I have much to think of, much to do. Imust seek out those in whom I can place confidence; I must employmany, probably, to obtain me information; I must try some, consultwith others, and judge what is to be done. You can rest here, myEdith, for this day, but to-morrow you must speed home again. But besure of one thing--if Walter dies, Otaitsa is dead, too!"
"That is no consolation," said Edith, throwing her arms roundOtaitsa's neck, with tears in her eyes. "Oh, do not do anything rash,dear Blossom! Remember, you are a Christian; and many things areforbidden to Christians as sins which are regarded as virtues by pagannations."
"Nothing can be rash, nothing can be a sin," answered Otaitsa, "whichcan save a life innocent, and good, and noble. I would not willinglyoffend my sister, but my heart is open to God, and He will judge me inmercy, seeing my motives. And now, dear sister, sit you here, and Iwill send you food, such as we poor Indians eat. I myself may be awayfor a time, for there must be no delay; but I will return as soon aspossible, and you shall know all that is done before you go. Do theseblacks who are with you understand the Indian tongue?"
"One of them certainly does," replied Edith; "that is to say, thelanguage of the Mohawks."
"'Tis the same," answered Otaitsa, "or nearly the same. We may havealtered a little, but amongst the Five Nations, he who speaks onetongue understands all. Is it the man or woman--and can we trust?"
"It is the man," answered Edith, "and I do believe he can be trusted."
"Then I go," answered Otaitsa, and leaving Edith, she descended to theroom below, and then issued forth amongst the Indian huts, glidingfrom one to another, and stopping generally for a few moments at thoselodges before which was to be seen a high pole bearing the ghastlytrophies with which the Indians signalized the death of an enemy.
Edith, in the meanwhile, remained for some time in sad meditation,until her eyes turned toward the sketches hanging round the room. Onone in particular the reflected light from the surface of the lakestreamed as it passed from the window, and Edith, going near, examinedit attentively. It represented the head of a young man, apparentlyfrom seven and twenty to thirty years of age, and was done well,though not exactly in a masterly manner. It was merely in pencil, buthighly finished, and there seemed something in it very familiar toEdith's eye. The features were generally like those of her brot
herWalter, so like that at first she imagined the drawing must beintended to represent his head; but the nearer view showed that it wasthat of a much older man, and the dress was one long gone out offashion.
She was still gazing, and puzzling herself with the questions ofwhence these drawings could come, and whether they could be Otaitsa'sown productions, when several Indian women entered, with their silentand noiseless tread, and placed some carved bowls, filled withdifferent kinds of food, before her. It was all very simple, but shewas much exhausted, for she had tasted nothing from an early hour ofthe day, and the refreshment was grateful to her. The women spoke toher, too, in the Iroquois tongue, and their sweet, low-toned voices,murmuring in the sort of sing-song of the tribes, was pleasant to herear. It spoke of companionship. Their words, too, were kind andfriendly, and she gathered from them that Otaitsa, in order to veilthe real object of her coming, had been making inquiries as to whetheranyone had seen Walter Prevost. They assured Edith that they had notseen him, that he could not have come into the Oneida country, orsomeone in the Castle must have heard of him. A paleface amongst themwas very rare, they said, but the coming of Walter Prevost, whom somany knew and loved much, must have been noised abroad immediately.They said that his absence from his home was certainly strange, butadded, laughing, that young warriors would wander, as Edith woulddiscover when she was old enough.
Thus they sat and talked with her, lighting a lamp in a bowl, tillOtaitsa returned, and then they left the two friends alone together.
Otaitsa was agitated, evidently, though she tried hard to hide, if notto suppress her emotions under Indian calmness; but her agitation wasevidently joyful. She laid her lovely small hand upon Edith's andpressed it warmly.
"I have found friends," she said, "and those who will work for me andwith me. My father's sister, who knew and loved my mother, and who issupposed by some to have a charm from the Great Spirit, to make menlove and reverence her; the wife of the sachem of the Bear; the youngbride of the Running Deer; and the wife of the Gray Wolf, as well asthe wife of Lynx Foot, and many others; all these have vowed to helpme, whatever it may cost. They all know him, my sister; they all havecalled him brother; and they are all resolute that their brother shallnot die. But I must first work for him myself, dear Edith," shecontinued; and then, clasping her hands together, with a burst of joyat the hope lighted up in her young, warm heart, she exclaimed: "Oh,that I could save him all by myself--that I might buy him from hisbonds by my own acts alone--aye, or even by my own blood! Huah! huah!That were joyful indeed!"
Edith could hardly raise her mind to the same pitch of hope, but stillshe felt more satisfied. Her object was accomplished. Otaitsa wasinformed of Walter's danger, and the bright, enthusiastic girl wasalready actively engaged in the effort to deliver him. There wassomething, too, in the young Indian--an eagerness, an energy unusualin the depressed women of her race, probably encouraged by the fond,unbounded indulgence of the chief, her father--which seemed to breatheof hope and success; and it was impossible to look into the eager andkindling eyes, when the fancy that she could deliver her young loverall alone took possession of her, without believing that if hisdeliverance was within human power, she would accomplish it.
Edith felt that her duty, so far, was done toward him, and that hernext duty was toward her father, who, she well knew, would bepainfully anxious till she returned, however confident he might havefelt of her safety in the hands of the Indians so long as there seemedno immediate chance of her being placed in such a situation. Shewillingly, therefore, agreed to Otaitsa's suggestion to set out withthe first ray of light on the following morning, Otaitsa promisingthat some Indian women should accompany her a day's journey on theway, who by their better knowledge of the country and their skill inthe management of the canoe, would greatly facilitate her progress.About an hour was spent in conversation, all turning upon one subject,and then the two beautiful girls lay down to sleep in each other'sarms.
Ticonderoga: A Story of Early Frontier Life in the Mohawk Valley Page 14
