CHAPTER XXIX.
For an Indian isle she shapes her way With constant mind both night and day: She seems to hold her home in view And sails as if the path she knew, So calm and stately in her motion Across the unfathomed, trackless ocean. -- WILSON.
It has been said that Peter was in advance. When his canoe was nearlyabreast of the usual landing at the hut, he saw two canoes coming outfrom among the rice, and distant from him not more than a hundredyards. At a greater distance, indeed, it would not have been easy todistinguish such an object on the water at all. Instead of attempting toavoid these two canoes, the chief instantly called to them, drawing theattention of those in them to himself, speaking so loud as to be easilyoverheard by those who followed.
"My young men are too late," he said. "The pale-faces have been seen inthe openings above by our warriors, and must soon be here. Let us land,and be ready to meet them at the wigwam."
Peter's voice was immediately recognized. The confident, quiet, naturalmanner in which he spoke served to mislead those in the canoes; and whenhe joined them, and entered the passage among the rice that led to thelanding, preceding the others, the last followed him as regularly as thecolt follows its dam. Le Bourdon heard the conversation, and understoodthe movement, though he could not see the canoes. Peter continuedtalking aloud, as he went up the passage, receiving answers to all hesaid from his new companions, his voice serving to let the fugitivesknow precisely where they were. All this was understood and improved bythe last, who lost no time in turning the adventure to account.
The first impulse of le Bourdon had been to turn and fly up stream.But, ascertaining that these dangerous enemies were so fully occupiedby Peter as not to see the canoes behind, he merely inclined a littletoward the other side of the channel, and slackened his rate ofmovement, in order not to come too near. The instant he was satisfiedthat all three of the canoes in advance had entered the passagementioned, and were moving toward the landing, he let out, and glideddown stream like an arrow. It required but half a minute to cross theopening of the passage, but Peter's conversation kept his followerslooking ahead, which greatly lessened the risk. Le Bourdon's heart wasin his mouth several times, while thus running the gauntlet, as it mightbe; but fortune favored them; or, as Margery more piously understood thecircumstances, a Divine Providence led them in safety past the danger.
At the mouth of the river both le Bourdon and Gershom thought it highlyprobable that they should fall in with more lookouts, and each preparedhis arms for a fight. But no canoe was there, and the fugitives weresoon in the lake. Michigan is a large body of water, and a bark canoe isbut a frail craft to put to sea in, when there is any wind or commotion.On the present occasion, there was a good deal of both; so much asgreatly to terrify the females. Of all the craft known, however, oneof these egg-shells is really the safest, if properly managed, amongbreakers or amid the combing of seas. We have ourselves ridden in themsafely through a surf that would have swamped the best man-of-war cutterthat ever floated; and done it, too, without taking on board as muchwater as would serve to wash one's hands. The light vessel floats on solittle of the element, indeed, that the foam of a large sea has scarcea chance of getting above it, or aboard it; the great point in thehandling being to prevent the canoe from falling broadside to. Bykeeping it end on to the sea, in our opinion, a smart gale might beweathered in one of these craft, provided the endurance of a man couldbear up against the unceasing watchfulness and incessant labor ofsweeping with the paddle, in order to prevent broaching to.
Le Bourdon, it has been said, was very skilful in the management of hiscraft; and Gershom, now perforce a sober and useful man, was notmuch behind him in this particular. The former had foreseen this verydifficulty, and made all his arrangements to counteract it. No sooner,therefore, did he find the canoes in rough water than he brought themtogether, side by side, and lashed them there. This greatly lessened thedanger of capsizing, though it increased the labor of managing the craftwhen disposed to turn broadside to. It only remained to get sail on thecatamaran, for some such thing was it now, in order to keep ahead of thesea as much as possible. Light cotton lugs were soon spread, one in eachcanoe, and away they went, as sailors term it, wing and wing.
It was now much easier steering, though untiring vigilance was stillnecessary. A boat may appear to fly, and yet the "send of the sea"shall glance ahead of it with the velocity of a bird. Nothing that goesthrough, or ON, the water--and the last is the phrase best suited tothe floating of a bark canoe--can ever be made to keep company withthat feathery foam, which, under the several names of "white-caps"--anin-shore and lubber's term--"combs," "breaking of the seas," "the wash,"etc., etc., glances by a vessel in a blow, or comes on board her evenwhen she is running before it. We have often watched these clouds ofwater, as they have shot ahead of us, when ploughing our own ten oreleven knot through the brine, and they have ever appeared to us as somany useful admonishers of what the power of God is, as compared to thepower of man. The last shall construct his ship, fit her with all theappliances of his utmost art, sail her with the seaman's skill, andforce her through her element with something like railroad speed;yet will the seas "send" their feathery crests past her, like somany dolphins, or porpoises, sporting under her fore-foot. It is thisfollowing sea which becomes so very dangerous in heavy gales, and whichcompels the largest ships frequently to heave to, in order that they maypresent their bows to its almost resistless power.
But our adventurers had no such gales as those we mean, or any such seasto withstand. The wind blew fresh from the south, and Michigan can getup a very respectable swell at need. Like the seas in all the greatlakes, it was short, and all the worse for that. The larger the expanseof water over which the wind passes, the longer is the sea, and theeasier is it for the ship to ride on it. Those of Lake Michigan,however, were quite long enough for a bark canoe, and glad enough wereboth Margery and Dorothy when they found their two little vessels lashedtogether, and wearing an air of more stability than was common to them.Le Bourdon's sail was first spread, and it produced an immediate relieffrom the washing of the waves. The drift of a bark canoe, in a smartblow, is considerable, it having no hold on the water to resist it; butour adventurers fairly flew as soon as the cotton cloth was opened. Thewind being exactly south, by steering due north, or dead before it, itwas found possible to carry the sail in the other canoe, borne outon the opposite side; and from the moment that was opened, all thedifficulty was reduced to steering so "small," as seamen term it, asto prevent one or the other of the lugs from jibing. Had this occurred,however, no very serious consequences would have followed, theprecaution taken of lashing the craft together rendering capsizing nextto impossible.
The Kalamazoo and its mouth were soon far behind, and le Bourdon nolonger felt the least apprehension of the savages left in it. TheIndians are not bold navigators, and he felt certain that the lake wastoo rough for the savages to venture out, while his own course graduallycarried him off the land, and out of the track of anything that keptnear the shore. A short time produced a sense of security, and thewind appearing to fall, instead of increasing in violence, it was soonarranged that one of the men should sleep, while the other looked to thesafety of the canoes.
It was about nine o'clock when the fugitives made sail, off the mouth ofthe Kalamazoo; and, at the return of light, seven hours later, they weremore than forty miles from the place of starting. The wind still stood,with symptoms of growing fresher again as the sun rose, and the landcould just be seen in the eastern board, the coast in that directionhaving made a considerable curvature inland. This had brought the canoesfarther from the land than le Bourdon wished to be, but he could notmaterially change his course without taking in one of his sails. As muchvariation was made, however, as was prudent, and by nine o'clock, ortwelve hours after entering the lake, the canoes again drew near to theshore, which met them ahead. By the bee hunter's calculations, they werenow about seve
nty miles from the mouth of the Kalamazoo, having passedthe outlets of two or three of the largest streams of those regions.
The fugitives selected a favorable spot, and landed behind a headlandthat gave them a sufficient lee for the canoes. They had now reached apoint where the coast trends a little to the eastward, which brought thewind in a slight degree off the land. This change produced no verygreat effect on the seas, but it enabled the canoes to keep close tothe shore, making something of a lee for them. This they did about noon,after having lighted a fire, caught some fish in a small stream, killeda deer and dressed it, and cooked enough provisions to last for twoor three days. The canoes were now separated again; it being easier tomanage them in that state than when lashed together, besides enablingthem to carry both sails. The farther north they got the more of a leewas found, though it was in no place sufficient to bring smooth water.
In this manner several more hours were passed, and six times as manymore miles were made in distance. When le Bourdon again landed, whichhe did shortly before the sun set, he calculated his distance fromthe mouth of the Kalamazoo to be rather more than a hundred miles. Hisprincipal object was to ascend a bluff and to take a look at the coast,in order to examine it for canoes. This his glass enabled him to do withsome accuracy, and when he rejoined the party, he was rejoiced to haveit in his power to report that the coast was clear. After refreshingthemselves, the canoes were again brought together, in order to dividethe watches, and a new start was made for the night. In this manner didour adventurers make their way to the northward for two nights and days,landing often, to fish, hunt, rest, and cook, as well as to examine thecoast. At the end of the time mentioned, the celebrated straits of theMichillimackinac, or Mackinaw, as they are almost universally termed,came in sight. The course had been gradually changing toward theeastward, and, luckily for the progress of the fugitives, the wind withit, leaving them always a favorable breeze. But it was felt to be nolonger safe to use a sail, and recourse was had to the paddles, untilthe straits and island were passed. This caused some delay, and added agood deal to the labor; but it was deemed so dangerous to displaytheir white cotton sails, objects that might be seen for a considerabledistance, that it was thought preferable to adopt this caution. Norwas it useless. In consequence of this foresight, a fleet of canoes waspassed in safety, which were crossing from the post at Mackinaw to wardthe main land of Michigan. The number of the canoes in this fleet couldnot have been less than fifty, but getting a timely view of them, leBourdon hid his own craft in a cove, and remained there until the dangerwas over.
The course now changed still more, while the wind got quite round to thewestward. This made a fair wind at first, and gave the canoes a good leeas they advanced. Lake Huron, which was the water the fugitives were nowon, lies nearly parallel to Michigan, and the course was southeasterly.As le Bourdon had often passed both ways on these waters, he had hisfavorite harbors, and knew those signs which teach navigators how tomake their prognostics of the weather. On the whole, the fugitives didvery well, though they lost two days between Mackinaw and Saginaw Bay;one on account of the strength of the wind, and one on account of rain.During the last, they remained in a hut that le Bourdon had himselfconstructed in one of his many voyages, and which he had left standing.These empty cabins, or chientes, are of frequent occurrence in newcountries, being used, like the Refuges in the Alps, by every travelleras he has need of them.
The sight of the fleet of canoes, in the straits of Michillimackinac,caused the fugitives the only real trouble they had felt, between thetime when they left the mouth of the Kalamazoo, and the ten days thatsucceeded. By the end of that period the party had crossed Saginaw,and was fast coming up with Point au Barques, a landmark for all whonavigate the waters of Huron, when a canoe was seen coming out fromunder the land, steering as if to intercept them. This sight gave bothconcern and pleasure; concern, as it might lead to a hostile encounter,and pleasure, because the bee-hunter hoped for information that might beuseful in governing his future course. Here his glass came in play, withgood effect. By means of that instrument, it was soon ascertained thatthe strange canoe contained but two men, both Indians, and as that wasjust their own force no great danger was apprehended from the meeting.The craft, therefore, continued to approach each other, le Bourdonkeeping his glass levelled on the strangers much of the time.
"As I live, yonder are Peter and Pigeonswing," suddenly exclaimed ourhero. "They have crossed the Peninsula, and have come out from thepoint, in that canoe, to meet us."
"With important news, then, depend on it, Benjamin," answered the wife."Tell this to brother, that he and Dolly may not feel more alarm than isnecessary."
The bee-hunter called out to his friends in the other canoe, andcommunicated the discovery just made, the two craft keeping alwayswithin hailing distance of each other.
"Them Injins are not here for nothing," answered Dorothy. "You will findthey have something serious to say."
"We shall soon know," called out le Bourdon. "Ten minutes will bring usalongside of them."
The ten minutes did that much, and before the expiration of the shortspace, the three canoes were fastened together, that of Peter being inthe centre. The bee-hunter saw, at a glance, that the expedition ofthe Indians had been hurried; for their canoe, besides being ofvery indifferent qualities, was not provided with the implements andconveniences usual to a voyage of any length. Still, he would not aska question, but lighting his pipe, after a few puffs, he passed itcourteously over to Peter. The great chief smoked a while, and gave itto Pigeonswing, in his turn, who appeared to enjoy it quite as much asany of the party.
"My father does not believe he is a Jew?" said le Bourdon, smiling;willing to commence a discourse, though still determined not to betray awomanish curiosity.
"We are poor Injins, Bourdon; just as the Great Spirit made us. Datbess. Can't help what Manitou do. If he don't make us Jew, can't be Jew.If he make us Injin, muss be Injin. For my part, b'lieve I'm Injin, anddon't want to be pale-face. Can love pale-face, now, juss as well aslove Injin."
"Oh, I hope this is true, Peter," exclaimed Margery, her handsome faceflushing with delight, at hearing these words. "So long as your hearttells you this, be certain that the Spirit of God is in you."
Peter made no answer, but he looked profoundly impressed with the novelfeeling that had taken possession of his soul. As for the bee-hunter, hedid not meddle with Margery's convictions or emotions on such subjects,resembling, in this particular, most men, who, however indifferent toreligion in their own persons, are never sorry to find that their wivesprofoundly submit to its influence. After a short pause, a speciesof homage involuntarily paid to the subject, he thought he might nowinquire into the circumstances that brought the Indians on their route,without incurring the imputation of a weak and impatient curiosity. Inreply, Peter's story was soon told. He had rejoined the chiefs withoutexciting distrust, and all had waited for the young men to bring in thecaptives. As soon as it was ascertained that the intended victims hadescaped, and by water, parties proceeded to different points, in orderto intercept them. Some followed in canoes, but, being less bold intheir navigation than the bee-hunter, they did not make the straitsuntil some time after the fugitives had passed. Peter, himself,had joined Bear's Meat and some twenty warriors who had crossed thePeninsula, procured canoes at the head of Saginaw Bay, and had come outat Point au Barques, the very spot our party was now approaching, threedays before its arrival.
Tired with waiting, and uncertain whether his enemies had not got thestart of him, Bear's Meat had gone into the river below, intending tokeep his watch there, leaving Peter at the Point, with three young menand one canoe, to have a lookout. These young men the great chief hadfound an excuse for sending to the head of the Bay, in quest of anothercanoe, which left him, of course, quite alone on the Point. Scarce hadthe young man got out of sight, ere Pigeonswing joined his confederate,for it seems that this faithful friend had kept on the skirts of theenemy the whole time, travelling
hundreds of miles, and enduring hungerand fatigue, besides risking his life at nearly every step, in order tobe of use to those whom he considered himself pledged to serve.
Of course, Peter and Pigeonswing understood each other. One hour afterthey joined company, the canoes of the fugitives came in sight, andwere immediately recognized by their sails. They were met, as has beenmentioned, and the explanations that we have given were made before theparty landed at the Point.
It was something to know where the risk was to be apprehended; but leBourdon foresaw great danger. He had brought his canoes, already, quitefive hundred miles, along a hazardous coast--though a little craft, likeone of those he navigated, ran less risk, perhaps, than a largervessel, since a shelter might, at any time, be found within a reasonabledistance for it. From Pointe au Barques to the outlet of the lakewas less than a hundred miles more. This outlet was a river, as it iscalled--a strait, in fact--which communicates with the small shallowlake of St. Clair, by a passage of some thirty miles in length. Thenthe lake St. Clair was to be crossed about an equal distance, when thecanoes would come out in what is called the Detroit River, a straitagain, as its name indicates. Some six or eight miles down this passage,and on its western side, stands the city of Detroit, then a village ofno great extent, with a fort better situated to repel an attack of thesavages, than to withstand a siege of white men. This place was now inthe possession of the British, and, according to le Bourdon's notion, itwas scarcely less dangerous to him than the hostility of Bear's Meat andhis companions.
Delay, however, was quite as dangerous as anything else. After cookingand eating, therefore, the canoes continued their course, Peter andPigeonswing accompanying them, though they abandoned their own craft.Peter went with the bee-hunter and Margery, while the Chippewa took aseat and a paddle in the canoe of Gershom. This change was made inorder to put a double power in each canoe, since it was possible thatdownright speed might become the only means of safety.
The wind still stood at the westward, and the rate of sailing was rapid.About the close of the day the party drew near to the outlet, when Peterdirected the sails to be taken in. This was done to prevent their beingseen, a precaution that was now aided by keeping as near to the shoreas possible, where objects so small and low would be very apt to beconfounded with others on the land.
It was quite dark when the canoes entered the St. Clair river. Favoredby the current and the wind, their progress was rapid, and ere the dayreturned, changing his direction from the course ordinarily taken, Peterentered the lake by a circuitous passage; one of the many that lead fromthe river to the lake, among aquatic plants that form a perfect shelter.This detour saved the fugitives from falling into the hands of one partyof their enemies, as was afterward ascertained by the Indians. Bear'sMeat had left two canoes, each manned by five warriors, to watch theprincipal passages into Lake St. Clair, not anticipating that anyparticular caution would be used by the bee-hunter and his friends, atthis great distance from the place where they had escaped from theirfoes. But the arrival of Peter, his sagacity, and knowledge of Indianhabits, prevented the result that was expected. The canoes got intothe lake unseen, and crossed it a little diagonally, so as to reach theCanada shore in the middle of the afternoon of the succeeding day, usingtheir sails only when far from land, and not exposed to watchful eyes.
The bee-hunter and his friends landed that afternoon at the cabin ofa Canadian Frenchman, on the shore of the lake, and at a safe distancefrom the outlet which led still farther south. Here the females werehospitably received, and treated with that kindness which marks thecharacter of the Canadian French. It mattered little to these simplepeople, whether the travellers were of the hostile nation or not. It istrue, they did not like the "Yankees," as all Americans are termed bythem, but they were not particularly in love with their English masters.It was well enough to be repossessed of both banks of the Detroit,for both banks were then peopled principally by their own race, thedescendants of Frenchmen of the time of Louis XIV., and who stillpreserved much of the language, and many of the usages, of the Frenchof that period. They spoke then, as now, only the language of theirfathers.
The bee-hunter left the cottage of these simple and hospitable people,as soon as the night was fairly set in; or, rather, as soon as a youngmoon had gone down. Peter now took the command, steering the canoe ofle Bourdon, while Gershom followed so close as to keep the bow of hislittle craft within reach of the Indian's arm. In less than an hour thefugitives reached the opening of the river, which is here divided intotwo channels by a large island. On that very island, and at that precisemoment, was Bear's Meat lying in wait for their appearance, providedwith three canoes, each having a crew of six men. It would have beeneasy for this chief to go to Detroit, and give the alarm to the savageswho were then collected there in a large force, and to have made sucha disposition of the canoes as would have rendered escape by waterimpossible; but this would have been robbing himself and his friends ofall the credit of taking the scalps, and throwing away what is termed"honor" among others as well as among savages. He chose, therefore, totrust to his own ability to succeed; and supposing the fugitives wouldnot be particularly on their guard at this point, had little doubt ofintercepting them here, should they succeed in eluding those he had leftabove.
The bee-hunter distrusted that island, and used extra caution in passingit. In the first place, the two canoes were brought together, so as togive them, in the dark, the appearance of only one; while the four menadded so much to the crew as to aid the deception. In the end it provedthat one of Bear's Meat's canoes that was paddling about in the middleof the river had actually seen them, but mistook the party for a canoeof their own, which ought to have been near that spot, with preciselysix persons in it, just at that time. These six warriors had landed, andgone up among the cottages of the French to obtain some fruit, of whichthey were very fond, and of which they got but little in their ownvillages. Owing to this lucky coincidence, which the pretty Margery everregarded as another special interposition of Providence in their favor,the fugitives passed the island without molestation, and actually gotbelow the last lookouts of Bear's Meat, though without their knowledge.
It was by no means a difficult thing to go down the river, now that somany canoes were in motion on it, at all hours. The bee-hunter knew whatpoints were to be avoided, and took care not to approach a sentinel. Theriver, or strait, is less than a mile wide, and by keeping in the centreof the passage, the canoes, favored by both wind and current, drove bythe town, then an inconsiderable village, without detection. As soon asfar enough below, the canoes were again cast loose from each other, andsail was made on each. The water was smooth, and some time beforethe return of light the fugitives were abreast of Malden, but in theAmerican channel. Had it been otherwise, the danger could not have beengreat. So completely were the Americans subdued by Hull's capitulation,and so numerous were the Indian allies of the British, that the passageof a bark canoe, more or less, would hardly have attracted attention. Atthat time, Michigan was a province of but little more than a name. Theterritory was wide, to be sure, but the entire population was not largerthan that of a moderately sized English market town, and Detroit wasthen regarded as a distant and isolated point. It is true that Mackinacand Chicago were both more remote, and both more isolated, but anEnglish force, in possession of Detroit, could be approached by theAmericans on the side of the land only by overcoming the obstacles of abroad belt of difficult wilderness. This was done the succeeding year,it is true, but time is always necessary to bring out Jonathan's latentmilitary energies. When aroused, they are not trifling, as all hisenemies have been made to feel; but a good deal of miscalculation,pretending ignorance, and useless talking must be expended, before thereally efficient are allowed to set about serving the country in theirown way.
In this respect, thanks to West Point, a well-organized staff, andwell-educated officers, matters are a little improving. Congress hasnot been able to destroy the army, in the present war, though it d
id itsbest to attain that end; and all because the nucleus was too powerfulto be totally eclipsed by the gas of the usual legislative tail of theGreat National Comet, of which neither the materials nor the orbit canany man say he knows. One day, it declares war with a hurrah; the next,it denies the legislation necessary to carry it on, as if it distrustedits own acts, and already repented of its patriotism. And this isthe body, soulless, the very school of faction, as a whole of veryquestionable quality in the outset, that, according to certainexpounders of the constitution, is to perform all the functions of agovernment; which is not only to pass laws, but is to interpret them;which is to command the army, aye, even to wheeling its platoons;which reads the constitution as an abbe mumbles his aves and paters, orlooking at everything but his texts; and which is never to have itsacts vetoed, unless in cases where the Supreme Court would spare theExecutive that trouble. We never yet could see either the elements orthe fruits of this great sanctity in the National Council. In our eyesit is scarcely ever in its proper place on the railway of the Union, hasdegenerated into a mere electioneering machine, performing the littleit really does convulsively, by sudden impulses, equally withoutdeliberation or a sense of responsibility. In a word, we deem it thepower of all others in the state that needs the closest watching, andwere we what is termed in this country "politicians," we should go forthe executive who is the most ready to apply the curb to these vagariesof faction and interested partisans! Vetoes. Would to Heaven we couldsee the days of Good Queen Bess revived for one session of Congress atleast, and find that more laws were sent back for the second thoughtsof their framers than were approved! Then, indeed, might the country bebrought back to a knowledge of the very material constitutional factsthat the legislature is not commander-in-chief, does not negotiateor make treaties, and has no right to do that which it has done sooften--appoint to office by act of Congress.
As a consequence of the little apprehension entertained by the Englishof being soon disturbed in their new conquests, le Bourdon and hisfriends got out of the Detroit River, and into Lake Erie, withoutdiscovery or molestation. There still remained a long journey beforethem. In that day the American side of the shores of all the Great Lakeswas little more than a wilderness. There were exceptions at particularpoints, but these were few and far asunder. The whole coast ofOhio--for Ohio has its coast as well as Bohemia [Footnote: SeeShakespeare--Winter's Tale.]--was mostly in a state of nature, as wasmuch of those of Pennsylvania and New York, on the side of the freshwater. The port which the bee-hunter had in view was Presque Isle, nowknown as Erie, a harbor in Pennsylvania, that has since become somewhatcelebrated in consequence of its being the port out of which theAmerican vessels sailed, about a year later than the period of which weare writing, to fight the battle that gave them the mastery of the lake.This was a little voyage of itself, of near two hundred miles, followingthe islands and the coast, but it was safely made in the course ofthe succeeding week. Once in Lake Erie and on the American side, ouradventurers felt reasonably safe against all dangers but those of theelements. It is true that a renowned annalist, whose information issustained by the collected wisdom of a State Historical Society, doestell us that the enemy possessed both shores of Lake Erie in 1814; butthis was so small a mistake, compared with some others that this Nestorin history had made, that we shall not stop to explain it. Le Bourdonand his party found all the south shore of Lake Erie in possessionof the Americans, so far as it was in the possession of any one, andconsequently ran no risks from this blunder of the historian and hishighly intelligent associates!
Peter and Pigeonswing left their friends before they reached PresqueIsle. The bee-hunter gave them his own canoe, and the parting was notonly friendly, but touching. In the course of their journey, and duringtheir many stops, Margery had frequently prayed with the great chief.His constant and burning desire, now, was to learn to read, that hemight peruse the word of the Great Spirit, and regulate his future lifeby its wisdom and tenets. Margery promised, should they ever meet again,and under circumstances favorable to such a design, to help him attainhis wishes.
Pigeonswing parted from his friend with the same light-hearted vivacityas he had manifested in all their intercourse. Le Bourdon gave him hisown rifle, plenty of ammunition, and various other small articles thatwere of value to an Indian, accepting the Chippewa's arms in return. Theexchange, however, was greatly to the advantage of the savage. As forPeter, he declined all presents. He carried weapons now, indeed, merelyfor the purpose of hunting; but the dignity of his character and stationwould have placed him above such compensations, had the fact beenotherwise.
CHAPTER XXX.
Come to the land of peace! Come where the tempest hath no longer sway, The shadow passes from the soul away-- The sounds of weeping cease.
Fear hath no dwelling there! Come to the mingling--of repose and love, Breathed by the silent spirit of the dove, Through the celestial air. --MRS. HEMANS.
It is now more than thirty-three years since the last war with theEnglish terminated, and about thirty-six to the summer in which theevents recorded in this legend occurred. This third of a century hasbeen a period of mighty changes in America. Ages have not often broughtabout as many in other portions of the earth, as this short period oftime has given birth to among ourselves. We had written, thus far, onthe evidence of documents sent to us, when an occasion offered toverify the truth of some of our pictures, at least, by means of personalobservation.
Quitting our own quiet and secluded abode in the mountains, in thepleasant month of June, and in this current year of 1848, we descendedinto the valley of the Mohawk, got into the cars, and went flying byrails toward the setting sun. Well could we remember the time when anentire day was required to pass between that point on the Mohawk wherewe got on the rails, and the little village of Utica. On the presentoccasion, we flew over the space in less than three hours, and dined ina town of some fifteen thousand souls.
We reached Buffalo, at the foot of Lake Erie, in about twenty hoursafter we had entered the cars. This journey would have been the labor ofmore than a week, at the time in which the scene of this tale occurred.Now, the whole of the beautiful region, teeming with its towns andvillages, and rich with the fruits of a bountiful season, was almostbrought into a single landscape by the rapidity of our passage.
At Buffalo, we turned aside to visit the cataract. Thither, too, we wenton rails. Thirty-eight years had passed away since we had laid eyes onthis wonderful fall of water. In the intervening time we had travelledmuch, and had visited many of the renowned falls of the old world, tosay nothing of the great number which are to be found in other parts ofour own land. Did this visit, then, produce disappointment?
Did time, and advancing years, and feelings that had become deadened byexperience, contribute to render the view less striking, less grand, inany way less pleasing than we had hoped to find it? So far from this,all our expectations were much more than realized. In one particular,touching which we do not remember ever to have seen anything said, wewere actually astonished at the surpassing glory of Niagara. It was thecharacter of sweetness, if we can so express it, that glowed over theentire aspect of the scene. We were less struck with the grandeur ofthis cataract, than with its sublime softness and gentleness. To waterin agitation, use had so long accustomed us, perhaps, as in some slightdegree to lessen the feeling of awe that is apt to come over thenovice in such scenes; but we at once felt ourselves attracted by thesurpassing loveliness of Niagara. The gulf below was more imposing thanwe had expected to see it, but it was Italian in hue and softness, amidits wildness and grandeur. Not a drop of the water that fell down thatprecipice inspired terror; for everything appeared to us to be filledwith attraction and love. Like Italy itself, notwithstanding so muchthat is grand and imposing, the character of softness, and the witcheryof the gentler properties, is the power we should ascribe to Niagara, inpreference to that of its majesty. We
think this feeling, too, is moregeneral than is commonly supposed, for we find those who dwell near thecataract playing around it, even to the very verge of its greatest fall,with a species of affection, as if they had the fullest confidence inits rolling waters. Thus it is that we see the little steamer, the Maidof the Mist, paddling up quite near to the green sheet of the Horse-Shoeitself, and gliding down in the current of the vortex, as it iscompelled to quit the eddies, and come more in a line with the maincourse of the stream. Wires, too, are suspended across the gulf below,and men pass it in baskets. It is said that one of these inventions isto carry human beings over the main fall, so that the adventurer mayhang suspended in the air, directly above the vortex. In this way domen, and even women, prove their love for the place, all of which weimpute to its pervading character of sweetness and attraction.
At Buffalo we embarked in a boat under the English flag, which is calledthe Canada, This shortened our passage to Detroit, by avoiding all thestops at lateral ports, and we had every reason to be satisfied with ourselection. Boat, commander, and the attendance were such as would havedone credit to any portion of the civilized world. There were manypassengers, a motley collection, as usual, from all parts of thecountry.
Our attention was early drawn to one party, by the singular beauty ofits females. They seemed to us to be a grandmother, in a well-preserved,green old age; a daughter, but a matron of little less than forty; andtwo exceedingly pretty girls of about eighteen and sixteen, whom we tookto be children of the last. The strong family likeness between thesepersons led us early to make this classification, which we afterwardfound was correct.
By occasional remarks, I gathered that the girls had been to an"Eastern" boarding-school, that particular feature in civilization notyet flourishing in the Northwestern States. It seemed to us that wecould trace in the dialect of the several members of this family,the gradations and peculiarities that denote the origin and habits ofindividuals. Thus, the grandmother was not quite as Western in her formsof speech as her matronly daughter, while the grandchildren evidentlyspoke under the influence of boarding-school correction, or like girlswho had been often lectured on the subject "First rate," and "Yes, sir,"and "That's a fact," were often in the mouth of the pleasing mother, andeven the grandmother used them all, though not as often as her daughter,while the young people looked a little concerned and surprised, wheneverthey came out of the mouth of their frank-speaking mother. That thesepersons were not of a very high social class was evident enough, even intheir language. There was much occasion to mention New York, we found,and they uniformly called it "the city." By no accident did either ofthem happen to use the expression that she had been "in town," as one ofus would be apt to say. "He's gone to the city," or "She's in the city,"are awkward phrases, and tant soit peu vulgar; but even our prettyyoung boarding-school eleves would use them. We have a horror of theexpression "city," and are a little fastidious, perhaps, touching itsuse.
But these little peculiarities were spots on the sun. The entire family,taken as a whole, was really charming; and long before the hour forretiring came, we had become much interested in them all. We foundthere was a fifth person belonging to this party, who did not make hisappearance that night. From the discourse of these females, however, itwas easy to glean the following leading facts: This fifth person wasa male; he was indisposed, and kept his berth; and he was quiteaged. Several nice little dishes were carried from the table into hisstate-room that evening, by one or the other of the young sisters,and each of the party appeared anxious to contribute to the invalid'scomfort. All this sympathy excited our interest, and we had somecuriosity to see this old man, long ere it was time to retire. Asfor the females, no name was mentioned among them but that of a Mrs.Osborne, who was once or twice alluded to in full. It was "grandma," and"ma," and "Dolly," and "sis." We should have liked it better had it been"mother," and "grandmother," and that the "sis" had been called Betseyor Molly; but we do not wish to be understood as exhibiting theseamiable and good-looking strangers as models of refinement. "Ma" and"sis" did well enough, all things considered, though "mamma" would havebeen better if they were not sufficiently polished to say "mother."
We had a pleasant night of it, and all the passengers appeared nextmorning with smiling faces. It often blows heavily on that lake, butlight airs off the land were all the breezes we encountered. We wereamong the first to turn out, and on the upper deck forward, a placewhere the passengers are fond of collecting, as it enables them to lookahead, we found a single individual who immediately drew all of ourattention to himself. It was an aged man, with hair already as white assnow. Still there was that in his gait, attitudes, and all his movementswhich indicated physical vigor, not to say the remains, at least, ofgreat elasticity and sinewy activity. Aged as he was, and he must havelong since passed his fourscore years, his form was erect as that ofa youth. In stature he was of rather more than middle height, and inmovements deliberate and dignified. His dress was quite plain, beingblack, and according to the customs of the day. The color of his faceand hands, however, as well as the bold outlines of his countenance, andthe still keen, restless, black eye, indicated the Indian.
Here, then, was a civilized red man, and it struck us at once, that hewas an ancient child of the forest, who had been made to feel the truthsof the gospel. One seldom hesitates about addressing an Indian, and wecommenced a discourse with our venerable fellow-passenger, with verylittle circumlocution or ceremony.
"Good-morning, sir," we observed--"a charming time we have of it, onthe lake."
"Yes--good time--" returned my red neighbor, speaking short and clipped,like an Indian, but pronouncing his words as if long accustomed to thelanguage.
"These steamboats are great inventions for the western lakes, as are therailroads for this vast inland region. I dare say you can remember LakeErie when it was an unusual thing to see a sail of any sort on it; andnow, I should think, we might count fifty."
"Yes--great change--great change, friend!--all change from ole time."
"The traditions of your people, no doubt, give you reason to see andfeel all this?"
The predominant expression of this red man's countenance was that oflove. On everything, on every human being toward whom he turned hisstill expressive eyes, the looks he gave them would seem to indicateinterest and affection. This expression was so decided and peculiar,that we early remarked it, and it drew us closer and closer to the oldchief, the longer we remained in his company. That expression, however,slightly changed when we made this allusion to the traditions ofhis people, and a cloud passed before his countenance. This change,nevertheless, was as transient as it was sudden, the benevolent andgentle look returning almost as soon as it had disappeared. He seemedanxious to atone for this involuntary expression of regrets for thepast, by making his communications to me as free as they could be.
"My tradition say a great deal," was the answer, "It say some good, somebad."
"May I ask of what tribe you are?"
The red man turned his eyes on us kindly, as if to lessen anythingungracious there might be in his refusal to answer, and with anexpression of benevolence that we scarcely remember ever to have seenequalled. Indeed, we might say with truth, that the love which shone outof this old man's countenance habitually, surpassed that which we canrecall as belonging to any other human face. He seemed to be at peacewith himself, and with all the other children of Adam.
"Tribe make no difference," he answered. "All children of same GreatSpirit."
"Red men and pale-faces?" I asked, not a little surprised with hisreply.
"Red man and pale-face. Christ die for all, and his Fadder make all. Nodifference, excep' in color. Color only skin deep."
"Do you, then, look on us pale-faces as having a right here? Do younot regard us as invaders, as enemies who have come to take away yourlands?"
"Injin don't own 'arth. 'Arth belong to God, and he send whom he liketo live on it. One time he send Injin; now he send pale-face. His 'arth,and he do
what he please wid it. Nobody any right to complain. Bad tofind fault wid Great Spirit. All he do, right; nebber do anyt'ing bad.His blessed Son die for all color, and all color muss bow down at hisholy name. Dat what dis good book say," showing a small pocket Bible,"and what dis good book say come from Great Spirit, himself."
"You read the Holy Scriptures, then--you are an educated Indian?"
"No; can't read at all. Don't know how. Try hard, but too ole to begin.Got young eyes, however, to help me," he added, with one of the fondestsmiles I ever saw light a human face, as he turned to meet the prettyDolly's "Good-morning, Peter," and to shake the hand of the eldersister. "She read good book for old Injin, when he want her; and whenshe off at school, in 'city,' den her mudder or her gran'mudder read forhim. Fuss begin wid gran'mudder; now get down to gran'da'ghter. But goodbook all de same, let who will read it."
This, then, was "Scalping Peter," the very man I was travelling intoMichigan to see, but how wonderfully changed! The Spirit of the MostHigh God had been shed freely upon his moral being, and in lieu of therevengeful and vindictive savage, he now lived a subdued, benevolentChristian! In every human being he beheld a brother, and no longerthought of destroying races, in order to secure to his own people thequiet possession of their hunting-grounds. His very soul was love; andno doubt he felt himself strong enough to "bless those who cursed him,"and to give up his spirit, like the good missionary whose death hadfirst turned him toward the worship of the one true God, praying forthose who took his life.
The ways of Divine Providence are past the investigations of humanreason. How often, in turning over the pages of history, do we findcivilization, the arts, moral improvement, nay, Christianity itself,following the bloody train left by the conqueror's car, and good pouringin upon a nation by avenues that at first were teeming only with theapproaches of seeming evils! In this way, there is now reason to hopethat America is about to pay the debt she owes to Africa; and in thisway will the invasion of the forests, and prairies and "openings,"of the red man be made to atone for itself by carrying with it theblessings of the Gospel, and a juster view of the relations which manbears to his Creator. Possibly Mexico may derive lasting benefits fromthe hard lesson that she has so recently been made to endure.
This, then, was Peter, changed into a civilized man and a Christian! Ihave found, subsequently, that glimmerings of the former being existedin his character; but they showed themselves only at long intervals, andunder very peculiar circumstances. The study of these traits became asubject of great interest with us, for we now travelled in company therest of our journey. The elder lady, or "grandma," was the Margery ofour tale; still handsome, spirited, and kind. The younger matron was herdaughter and only child, and "sis," another Margery, and Dorothy, wereher grandchildren. There was also a son, or a grandson rather, Ben,who was on Prairie Round, "with the general." The "general" was our oldfriend, le Bourdon, who was still as often called "General Bourdon,"as "General Boden." This matter of "generals" at the West is a littleoverdone, as all ranks and titles are somewhat apt to be in newcountries. It causes one often to smile, at the East; and no wonder thatan Eastern habit should go down in all its glory, beneath the"setting sun." In after-days, generals will not be quite as "plenty asblackberries."
No sooner did Mrs. Boden, or Margery, to use her familiar name, learnthat we were the very individual to whom the "general" had sent thenotes relative to his early adventures, which had been prepared bythe "Rev. Mr. Varse," of Kalamazoo, than she became as friendly andcommunicative as we could possibly desire.
Her own life had been prosperous, and her marriage happy. Her brother,however, had fallen back into his old habits, and died ere the war of1812 was ended. Dorothy had returned to her friends in Massachusetts,and was still living, in a comfortable condition, owing to a legacy froman uncle. The bee-hunter had taken the field in that war, and had seensome sharp fighting on the banks of the Niagara. No sooner was peacemade, however, than he returned to his beloved Openings, where he hadremained, "growing with the country," as it is termed, until he was nowwhat is deemed a rich man in Michigan. He has a plenty of land, and thatwhich is good; a respectable dwelling, and is out of debt. He meetshis obligations to an Eastern man just as promptly as he meets thosecontracted at home, and regards the United States, and not Michigan, ashis country. All these were good traits, and we were glad to learn thatthey existed in one who already possessed so much of our esteem. AtDetroit we found a fine flourishing town, of a healthful and naturalgrowth, and with a population that was fast approaching twenty thousand.The shores of the beautiful strait on which it stands, and which, by astrange blending of significations and languages, is popularly calledthe "Detroit River," were alive with men and their appliances, and wescarce know where to turn to find a more agreeable landscape than thatwhich was presented to us, after passing the island of "Bobolo" (BoisBlanc), near Maiden. Altogether, it resembled a miniature picture ofConstantinople, without its Eastern peculiarities.
At Detroit commenced our surprise at the rapid progress of Westerncivilization. It will be remembered that at the period of our tale, theenvirons of Detroit excepted, the whole peninsula of Michigan lay ina state of nature. Nor did the process of settlement commence activelyuntil about twenty years since; but, owing to the character ofthe country, it already possesses many of the better features of along-inhabited region. There are stumps, of course, for new fields areconstantly coming into cultivation; but on the whole, the appearance isthat of a middle-aged, rather than that of a new region.
We left Detroit on a railroad, rattling away toward the setting sun, ata good speed even for that mode of conveyance. It seemed to us thatour route was well garnished with large villages, of which we must havepassed through a dozen, in the course of a few hours' "railing," Theseare places varying in size from one to three thousand inhabitants. Thevegetation certainly surpassed that of even West New York, the treesalone excepted. The whole country was a wheat-field, and we now beganto understand how America could feed the world. Our road lay among the"Openings" much of the way, and we found them undergoing the changeswhich are incident to the passage of civilized men. As the periodicalfires had now ceased for many years, underbrush was growing in lieu ofthe natural grass, and in so much those groves are less attractive thanformerly; but one easily comprehends the reason, and can picture tohimself the aspect that these pleasant woods must have worn in times ofold.
We left the railroad at Kalamazoo--an unusually pretty village, on thebanks of the stream of that name. Those who laid out this place, somefifteen years since, had the taste to preserve most of its trees;and the houses and grounds that stand a little apart from the busieststreets--and they are numerous for a place of rather more than twothousand souls--are particularly pleasant to the eye, on account of theshade, and the rural pictures they present. Here Mrs. Boden told us wewere within a mile or two of the very spot where once had stood CastleMeal (Chateau au Miel), though the "general" had finally establishedhimself at Schoolcraft, on Prairie Ronde.
The first prairie we had ever seen was on the road between Detroit andKalamazoo; distant from the latter place only some eight or nine miles.The axe had laid the country open in its neighborhood; but the spot waseasily to be recognized by the air of cultivation and age that pervadedit. There was not a stump on it, and the fields were as smooth as any onthe plains of Lombardy, and far more fertile, rich as the last are knownto be. In a word, the beautiful perfection of that little natural meadowbecame apparent at once, though seated amid a landscape that was by nomeans wanting in interest of its own.
We passed the night at the village of Kalamazoo; but the party offemales, with old Peter, proceeded on to Prairie Round, as thatparticular part of the country is called in the dialect of Michigan, itbeing a corruption of the old French name of la prairie ronde. The RoundMeadow does not sound as well as Prairie Round, and the last being quiteas clear a term as the other, though a mixture of the two languages,we prefer to use it. Indeed, the word "prairie" may now be
said tobe adopted into the English; meaning merely a natural instead of anartificial meadow, though one of peculiar and local characteristics. Wewrote a note to General Boden, as I found our old acquaintance Ben Bodenwas universally termed, letting him know I should visit Schoolcraft nextday; not wishing to intrude at the moment when that charming family wasjust reunited after so long a separation.
The next day, accordingly, we got into a "buggy" and went our way.The road was slightly sandy a good part of the twelve miles we hadto travel, though it became less so as we drew near to the celebratedprairie. And celebrated, and that by an abler pen than ours, does thisremarkable place deserve to be! We found all our expectations concerningit fully realized, and drove through the scene of abundance it presentedwith an admiration that was not entirely free from awe.
To get an idea of Prairie Round, the reader must imagine an oval plainof some five-and-twenty or thirty thousand acres in extent, of the mostsurpassing fertility, without an eminence of any sort--almost without aninequality. There are a few small cavities, howevers in which there aresprings that form large pools of water that the cattle will drink. Thisplain, so far as we saw it, is now entirely fenced and cultivated. Thefields are large, many containing eighty acres, and some one hundred andsixty; most of them being in wheat. We saw several of this size inthat grain. Farm-houses dotted the surface, with barns, and the otheraccessories of rural life. In the centre of the prairie is an "island"of forest, containing some five or six hundred acres of the noblestnative trees we remember ever to have seen. In the centre of this woodis a little lake, circular in shape, and exceeding a quarter of a milein diameter. The walk in this wood-which is not an Opening, but anold-fashioned virgin forest--we found delightful of a warm summer's day.One thing that we saw in it was characteristic of the country. Someof the nearest farmers had drawn their manure into it, where it lay inlarge piles, in order to get it out of the way of doing any mischief.Its effect on the land, it was thought, would be to bring too muchstraw!
On one side of this island of wood lies the little village or largehamlet of Schoolcraft. Here we were most cordially welcomed by GeneralBoden, and all of his fine descendants. The head of this family isapproaching seventy, but is still hale and hearty. His head is as whiteas snow, and his face as red as a cherry. A finer old man one seldomsees. Temperance, activity, the open air, and a good conscience, haveleft him a noble ruin; if ruin he can yet be called. He owes the lastblessing, as he told us himself, to the fact that he kept clear ofthe whirlwind of speculation that passed over this region some ten orfifteen years since. His means are ample; and the harvest being about tocommence, he invited me to the field.
The peculiar ingenuity of the American has supplied the want oflaborers, in a country where agriculture is carried on by wholesale,especially in the cereals, by an instrument of the most singular andelaborate construction. This machine is drawn by sixteen or eighteenhorses, attached to it laterally, so as to work clear of the standinggrain, and who move the whole fabric on a moderate but steady walk. Apath is first cut with the cradle on one side of the field, when themachine is dragged into the open place. Here it enters the standinggrain, cutting off its heads with the utmost accuracy as it moves. Forksbeneath prepare the way, and a rapid vibratory motion of a great numberof two-edged knives effect the object. The stalks of the grain can becut as low or as high as one pleases, but it is usually thought best totake only the heads. Afterward the standing straw is burned, or fed off,upright.
The impelling power which causes the great fabric to advance also setsin motion the machinery within it As soon as the heads of the grain aresevered from the stalks, they pass into a receptacle, where, by a veryquick and simple process, the kernels are separated from the husks.Thence all goes into a fanning machine, where the chaff is blown away.The clean grain falls into a small bin, whence it is raised by a screwelevator to a height that enables it to pass out at an opening to whicha bag is attached. Wagons follow the slow march of the machine, and theproper number of men are in attendance. Bag after bag is renewed, untila wagon is loaded, when it at once proceeds to the mill, where the grainis soon converted into flour. Generally the husbandman sells to themiller, but occasionally he pays for making the flour, and sends thelatter off, by railroad, to Detroit, whence it finds its way to Europe,possibly, to help feed the millions of the old world. Such, at least,was the course of trade the past season. As respects this ingeniousmachine, it remains only to say that it harvests, cleans, and bagsfrom twenty to thirty acres of heavy wheat, in the course of a singlesummer's day! Altogether it is a gigantic invention, well adapted tomeet the necessities of a gigantic country.
Old Peter went afield with us that day. There he stood, like a strikingmonument of a past that was still so recent and wonderful. On that veryprairie, which was now teeming with the appliances of civilization,he had hunted and held his savage councils. On that prairie had hemeditated, or consented to the deaths of the young couple, whosedescendants were now dwelling there, amid abundance, and happy. Nothingbut the prayers of the dying missionary, in behalf of his destroyers,had prevented the dire consummation.
We were still in the field, when General Boden's attention was drawntoward the person of another guest. This, too, was an Indian, old likehimself, but not clad like Peter, in the vestments of the whites. Theattire of this sinewy old man was a mixture of that of the two races. Hewore a hunting-shirt, moccasins, and a belt; but he also wore trousers,and otherwise had brought himself within the habits of conventionaldecency. It was Pigeonswing, the Chippewa, come to pay his annual visitto his friend, the bee-hunter, The meeting was cordial, and we afterwardascertained that when the old man departed, he went away loaded withgifts that would render him comfortable for a twelvemonth.
But Peter, after all, was the great centre of interest with us. We couldadmire the General's bee-hives, which were numerous and ingenious; couldadmire his still handsome Margery, and all their blooming descendants;and were glad when we discovered that our old friend--made so by meansof a knowledge of his character, if not by actual acquaintance--was muchimproved in mind, was a sincere Christian, and had been a Senator of hisown State; respected and esteemed by all who knew him. Such a career,however, has nothing peculiar in America; it is one of every-dayoccurrence, and shows the power of man when left free to make his ownexertions; while that of the Scalping Peter indicated the power of God.There he was, living in the midst of the hated race, loving and beloved;wishing naught but blessings on all colors alike; looking back upon histraditions and superstitions with a sort of melancholy interest, aswe all portray in our memories the scenes, legends, and feelings of anerring childhood.
We were walking in the garden, after dinner, and looking at the hives.There were the general, Margery, Peter, and ourselves. The first wasloud in praise of his buzzing friends, for whom it was plain he stillentertained a lively regard. The old Indian, at first, was sad. Thenhe smiled, and, turning to us, he spoke earnestly and with some of hisancient fire and eloquence.
"Tell me you make a book," he said. "In dat book tell trut'. You seeme--poor old Injin. My fadder was chief--I was great chief, but we waschildren. Knowed nuttin'. Like little child, dough great chief.Believe tradition. T'ink dis 'arth flat--t'ink Injin could scalp allpale-face--t'ink tomahawk, and war-path, and rifle, bess t'ings inwhole world. In dat day, my heart was stone. Afraid of Great Spirit, butdidn't love him. In dat time I t'ink General could talk wid bee. Yes;was very foolish den. Now, all dem cloud blow away, and I see my Fadderdat is in heaven. His face shine on me, day and night, and I never gettired of looking at it. I see him smile, I see him lookin' at poor oleInjin, as if he want him to come nearer; sometime I see him frown anddat scare me. Den I pray, and his frown go away.
"Stranger, love God. B'lieve his blessed Son, who pray for dem dat killhim. Injin don't do that. Injin not strong enough to do so good t'ing.It want de Holy Spirit to strengthen de heart, afore man can do so greatt'ing. When he got de force of de Holy Spirit, de heart of stone ischanged to
de heart of woman, and we all be ready to bless our enemy anddie. I have spoken. Let dem dat read your book understand."
THE END.
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