Prisoners of Hope: A Tale of Colonial Virginia

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 young womenraised a kind of recitative wherein was lauded to the skies the virtue,wisdom and power of the white father who had come from the banks of thePowhatan to those of the Pamunkey to visit his faithful Chickahominies,bringing (beyond doubt) justice in his hand. The deeper tones of the menchimed in, and the mob of naked children, bringing up the rear of theprocession, added their shrill voices to the clamor, which, upon thebooming in of a drum and the furious shaking of the conjurer'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 chinquepins,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 no timefor these fooleries. Make them stop that infernal racket, and lead us toyour 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 the halfking 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 ground again.The "white fathers" took possession of half a dozen billets, and waitedin silence the next move of the game. After a while, the half kinglifted from the log beside him a pipe with a stem a yard long and a bowlin which an orange might have rested. An Indian, rising, went to where afire burned beneath a tripod, and returning with a live coal between hisfingers, calmly and leisurely lighted the pipe. The half king, still indead silence, lifted it to his lips, smoked for five minutes, and handedit to the Indian, who bore it to the Governor. The Governor drew two orthree tremendous whiffs and passed it on to Colonel Verney, who in histurn transferred it to the Surveyor-General. When the monster pipe hadbeen smoked by each of the white men, it went the round of the savages.An Indian summer haze began to settle around the company. Through it thepatient gazing throng on the outskirts of the circle became shadowy,impalpable; the face of the half king, now hidden in shifting smokewreaths, now darkly visible, like that of an eastern idol before whomincense is burned. There was no sound save the wash of the waters belowthem, the sighing of the wind, the drone of the cicadas in the trees.The Indians sat like statues, but the white men were more restive. Theelders managed to restrain their impatience, but Laramore began towhistle, and when checked by a look from the Governor, turned to SirCharles with a comically disconsolate face and a shrug of the shoulders.Whereupon the latter drew from his pocket, dice and a handful of goldpieces. Laramore's face brightened, and the two, screened fromobservation by the Colonel's shoulders, which were of the broadest, fellto playing noiselessly, cursing beneath their breath. Mr. Peyton leanedhis elbow on his knee, and his chin upon his hand, and allowed thedreamy 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 from usour maize fields? Does the great white father love to hear our women cryfor 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?" he saidcoldly.

  "Humph!" said the Governor then, "I am not come to listen to idlecomplaints. Your grievances as to the land shall be laid before the nextAssembly, and it will pass judgment upon them--justly and righteously,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? Word wassent to all the tribes, to the Nansemonds, the Wyanokes, the Cheskiacks,the Paspaheghs, the Pamunkeys, the Chickahominies, that he should bedelivered up if they found him among them. Why did the Chickahominieshide 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 men lovetheir sticks-that-speak. They love to see the deer go down before themlike 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 dan
ce 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 by sunriseof the next morning their canoes are far up the river, headed for theBlue Mountains, if by the same hour the guns which you have retained indefiance of the express decree of the Assembly, be given up to those atthe Court House, then will I overlook your hiding the man with the redhair, and the Assembly will listen to your complaints as to your huntinggrounds. Disobey, and my warriors shall come, each with astick-that-speaks in his hand. I have spoken," and the Governor beckonedto the servants who held the horses.

  The half king rose also. "My white father shall be obeyed," he said withgloomy dignity. "He is stronger than we. Otee has been angry with thered men for many years. He is gone over to the palefaces and helps theirgod against the red men. My young men shall take their guns back to thepalefaces to-morrow, and shall bring back fire-water, and we will drink,and forget that the days of Powhatan are past and that Otee fightsagainst us. Also when the Pamunkey is red with to-morrow's sunset, mybrothers from the Blue Mountains shall turn their faces homewards. Myfather 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,yellow metal ("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, and somethey took prisoner. Black Wolf saw his brother, the great chief GreyWolf, fall. The Ricahecrians went back to the Blue Mountains, and theirwomen raised the death chant for those whom they left stretched out onthe bank of the great river.... Seven times had the maize ripened, whenBlack Wolf led a war party against a tribe that dwelt on the banks ofthe Pamunkey where a fallen pine might span it. The waters ran red withblood. When there were no more Monacans to kill, when the fires hadburnt low, Black Wolf looked down the waters of the Pamunkey. He hadheard that it ran into a great water that was salt, whose further bank aman could not see. He had heard that the palefaces rode in canoes thathad wings, great and white. He thought he would like to know if thesethings were true, or if they were but tales of the singing birds. Tofind out, Black Wolf and his young men dipped their oars into the waterof the Pamunkey, and rowed towards the moonrise. In the morning they mettwenty men of the Pamunkeys in three canoes. The Pamunkeys lie deep inthe slime of the river; the eels eat them; their scalps shall hangbefore the wigwams of Black Wolf and his young men. In the afternoon,they drove their canoes into the reeds and went into the forest to findmeat. Black Wolf's arrow brought down a buck and they feasted.Afterwards they caught a hunter who saw only the deer he was chasing.They tied him to a tree and made merry with him. When he was dead, theydrew their boats from out the reeds, and rowed on down the broadeningriver. The next day, at the time of the full sun-power, they came tothis village. Many years before the palefaces came, the Chickahominieswere a great nation, reaching to the foot of the Blue Mountains, andthen were they and the Ricahecrians friends and allies. When Black Wolfshowed them the totem of his tribe upon his breast, they welcomed himand his young men. That was ten suns ago. Black Wolf and his young menhave seen many things. When they go back to the Blue Mountains, theRicahecrians will think they listen to singing birds. They will tell ofthe great salt water, of the boats with wings, of the palefaces, oftheir fields of maize and tobacco, of the black men who serve them, oftheir temples, werowances and women. They will tell of the great whitefather who rules, of his power, his wisdom, his open hand--"

  "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. His sonhath 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. Theymade him a woman. The great chief of the Ricahecrians no longer throwsthe tomahawk--the guns of the palefaces are about him. He dances thecorn 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 not afinger, and the outer row of spectators, motionless against a backgroundof interlacing branches patched with vivid blue, seemed a procession intapestry. The Ricahecrians and their formidable chief maintained a stonygloom. Whatever interest they felt in the fate of their captive chiefwas carefully concealed. The sun, now hanging, broad and red, low in theheavens might have been the Gorgon's head and the whole village staringat 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 are right!"he said airily. "But rat me! if the impudence of the varlets be not themost 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. Consistencyis a jewel, Dick the Peacemaker. Wherefore let the savage go."

  "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 behind Verney'sorchard."

  The half king rose from his seat, 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, dulland heavy, of the ground swell that precedes the storm. The man whodropped from the tree was Luiz Sebastian, and his appearance seemed inno 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.