CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
The good ship _Amity_ was sailing up the magnificent stream of theDelaware. Her progress, however, was not without impediment, as hugemasses of ice came floating down, lately broken up by the warm sun ofthe early spring.
"There's your future home, my friends," said the captain, pointing tothe left side of the coast; "but it will take us some time before we canreach the spot where our friends have settled. On the right we haveWest New Jersey, where, owing to Master William Penn, a new free colonywas settled some time ago; but that is but a small portion of theterritory compared with Pennsylvania. I went out as mate in the _Kent_,commanded by Captain Gregory Marlow. We carried out the first settlersand the commissioners. They were nearly all Quakers, and a very goodsort of people they were. I remember, just as we sailed from theThames, the king coming alongside, and nothing would satisfy him butthat he must come on board; whereupon he gave us his blessing. Whetherit was of much value or not, it is not for me to say; but whether ornot, we reached port in safety. Several other ships followed. Thecommissioners bought land of the natives, and established friendlyrelations with them; and if you were to go on shore there now, you wouldfind as prosperous a community as any in the world." The new settlers,on hearing this account, looked with greater interest on the far distantshores of the land to which the captain pointed. On either side tallforests rose up,--a thick barrier to the country beyond.
"Ay, friends," continued the captain, "it is a fine land, but you willhave many a tall tree to cut down before you can grow wheat and barleyout of it; and for those who love work, there is work enough beforethem, not only for them, but for their children, and children's childrenafter them, and no fear of the country being too thickly peopled."
At length, on a point of land an opening in the forest was seen, withnumerous log huts and other buildings of more pretensions below the talltrees. It was the town of Newcastle, lately established. However, asthe wind was favourable, and the captain was anxious to reach hisdestination, he declined staying there, but sailed on farther up theriver. Each reach of the stream presented some fresh views, greatly bytheir beauty delighting the new comers. At length, two vessels wereseen moored off a town on the west bank, which the captain informed themwas the Swedish settlement of Upland. All eyes were directed towardsthem. As they approached, the captain declared his belief that one ofthem was the _John Sarah_, and in a short time the _Amity_ came toanchor close to her. She had fortunately, when the hurricane came on,by furling her sails in time, escaped injury, and had thus been able tohaul up, and gain the mouth of the Delaware. On proceeding up thestream, however, she and the _Bristol Factor_, the other ship, had beenfrozen up where they now were. There was a pleasant meeting of friends,and all going on shore, offered up their thanks to Heaven together, fortheir safe arrival and preservation from so many dangers. The villageoff which the _Amity_ had brought up had been built by a number ofFriends, who had arrived in the country several years before. The sitethey had chosen was a good one, and many believed that it would be thefuture capital of the colony. The scene was very wild, albeit highlypicturesque. Many of the inhabitants of the new settlement, unable tobuild houses, had dug caves in the banks of the river, in which they hadtaken up their abodes, roofing over the front part with pieces of timberand boughs. From early dawn till sunset the woodman's axe was at workfelling the tall trees. At night these were piled up, with the branchesand lighter wood beneath; huge fires being kindled as the most rapid wayof disposing of them. Primitive ploughs were at work between the stumpsof the trees, turning up the ground for receiving grain, both of wheatand Indian corn, while the spade was also wielded by those preparinggardens. Many languages were heard spoken, while the costumes of thesettlers were still more varied. The dusky forms of the Indians alsowere to be seen collected round the settlers, with their painted faces,their feathered head-dresses, and costumes of skin ornamented withthread of various colours. Numerous sawpits had been formed, andsawyers were at work preparing planks for the buildings. Already manyhouses had been run up, with high gables, gaily ornamented with paintand rough carving; for the Swedish settlers had been there alreadynearly forty years. The somewhat romantic notions entertained byWenlock and his younger fellow passengers were rather rudely dissipatedon their arrival. The work of settling he soon found was a plainmatter-of-fact business, requiring constant and persevering labour.Some of the settlers remained at the town, others proceeded farther upthe river to a spot near the confluence of the two rivers Schuylkill andDelaware. Wenlock, however, resolved to wait the arrival of ColonelMarkham, who had gone out as chief agent and commissioner for hiscousin, the governor, some months before. He was now, with his staff,some distance off, surveying the province. Although not a Quaker, hewas greatly trusted by William Penn, as a man of dauntless courage,talent, and perseverance. Soon after landing, old Bill Rullock came upto Wenlock. "I have a favour to ask," he said. "I have knocked aboutat sea all my life till I am weary of it. I heard your addresses andthose of others on board, and I have made up my mind to turn Quaker. Iwant you, therefore, to get my discharge from the captain. I could runfrom the ship, of course, but that would not be a good way of beginningmy new career; so if I cannot leave with a proper discharge, I must goto sea again. If it is God's will that my old carcase should becomefood for fishes, I must submit to it; but I have truly a great fancy forending my days in these green woods." Wenlock promised to make interestwith Captain Dinan.
"I shall be sorry to lose him," answered the captain; "but he deserves areward for the service he rendered us, and it would be hard to take himoff again to sea against his will. Here is his discharge, and his payup to the present time."
The old seaman was highly delighted when Wenlock told him that he wasfree.
"And, now, another favour I have to ask is, that I may stick fast byyou. I have still got plenty of work in me, and I should like to serveyou as long as I live. There is another person, however, I should notlike to serve, and that is Jonas Ford."
Ford had behaved so cunningly during the voyage from the West Indies,that he had considerably lessened the suspicions against him. He hadassured Captain Dinan that he had no thoughts of committing the crime ofwhich he had been accused; that the words he had uttered, overheard byRullock, had reference to an entirely different matter. As Rullock,indeed, was the only witness against him, and as even the other accusedpersons did not criminate him, the captain came to the determination ofproceeding no further in the business. He was, therefore, set atliberty, and landed with the other passengers. His companions were alsoliberated, as they had committed no overt act, and there was no evidenceagainst them. Ford, who had all along protested his innocence, tried toworm his way into the confidence of Wenlock, and always volunteered toaccompany him whenever he made any excursions into the interior.Wenlock, in spite of the young man's professions, disliked him more andmore. Still he could not altogether get rid of him. With the aid ofold Rullock, Wenlock had built a hut for himself in the neighbourhood ofUpland, and he purposed awaiting there the arrival of Colonel Markham.Hearing, however, at length, that the colonel was within the distance offive days' march, though he had had but little experience in traversingthe American forests, he yet--by noting the appearance of the bark onthe trees, by the aid of the sun during the day, and by certain markswhich the surveyors had made--believed that he should have no greatdifficulty in reaching the colonel's camp. Rullock, of course, wishedto attend him.
"No, my friend," he answered; "you stay at home and take care of thehouse. I am strong, and well accustomed to exercise; but, depend uponit, you would knock up with the fatigue."
The old man was at length obliged to acknowledge that Wenlock was right,and to submit. Two or three of the old settlers advised him to take aguide, pointing out the difficulties of traversing the forest; but he,confident in his own knowledge, persisted in his determination. Staffin hand, with knapsack on his back, he set forth. It did occur to him,per
haps, that he should be more at his ease had he possessed a brace ofpistols or a musket; but his profession prohibited their use as a meansof defence, and he declined accepting some arms from a friendly Swede,who offered them. The weather was fine, and he had learned the art ofcamping out. Starting early, he marched on bravely all day, believinghimself to be in the right course. Once or twice he stopped to rest,and then again proceeded on. At night, collecting a supply ofbirch-bark, as he had seen the Indians do, he built himself a wigwam.Abundance of fuel was at hand, and, lighting his fire, he cooked someprovisions he had brought with him. After this, commending himself tothe care of Heaven, he lay down in his wigwam, and was soon fast asleep.The following day he journeyed on in like manner. Clouds, however,obscured the sky, and more than once he doubted whether he wascontinuing in the right direction. The third day came, and he pushedonwards, but before he encamped at night, he felt sure that he must havediverged greatly from the right path. Still believing that he mightrecover it the following day, he lay down to rest. His provisions,however, ran somewhat short; indeed, he had miscalculated the amount heshould require. At length the fifth day came: his food was expended,and he had to confess that he had entirely lost his path. The whole dayhe wandered on, endeavouring to regain it. At last he got into whatappeared an Indian path. He followed it up, but in the end found thatit only led to a spot where an encampment had once stood--now deserted.He had been suffering greatly from thirst, even more than from hunger.To stay still might seal his fate. Onward, therefore, he pushed. Atlength, however, from want of food and water, his strength failed him.His sight grew dim, and, fainting, he fell on the ground. How long hehad lain there he knew not, when he heard a strange, deep-toned,sonorous voice. Languidly he opened his eyes, and saw standing over hima tall Indian, of dignified appearance and full costume of paint andfeathers.
"Who are you?" asked Wenlock, dreamily.
"I am Taminent, chief sachem of the red men of this country," answeredthe Indian, who, stooping down as he spoke, raised him in his arms.
A True Hero: A Story of the Days of William Penn Page 16
