CHAPTER XXXI.
The promise of the sunset was verified. The succeeding day dawnedbright and clear. The wind had shifted to the south-west; and, asfrequently happens in the American autumn, the cold and icy breath ofthe north-east had been succeeded by a wind as soft and gentle as thewarmest sigh of spring. In large masses, the snow fell from the boughsof the hemlock and the pine; the white surface of the earth's coveringglistened as if with shining scales, as the upper surface began tomelt; and, drop after drop, the water trickled from the extreme boughsof the trees, till the fully-risen sun sent the snow away dissolvedinto the streams and into the lake. It was like the recovery of themind from sorrow, under the bright influence of happier days.
Only here and there, a patch of snow was still seen upon the tops ofthe hills, or in the more shady parts of the forest; only here andthere upon the sky lingered the fragment of a cloud; but, instead ofthe dark, heavy, gray mass which had palled the heavens on thepreceding day, that cloud was as light and soft as the down of theswan.
About two o'clock, several long lines of Indian chiefs and warriorsmight be seen approaching the great Oneida village. Soon after, agreat fire was lighted before the door of the principal lodge; and, ason the preceding evening, the warriors were ranged in a circle round,and the women and children in another beyond.
The great chief, dressed in all the glittering finery of the Indianpeace-costume, with feathers, and red and white head-dress, andcrimson mantle, and embroidered shirt, and over-dress, and medalsinnumerable hanging round his neck, took the seat of honour with agrave dignity such as few civilized monarchs have ever, after thegreatest study, been able to attain. He wore no warlike weapons;nothing but a single knife appeared in his girdle; and in his hand hecarried the richly-ornamented calumet, or pipe of peace.
Close behind her father sat Otaitsa, with her heart greatly troubled,less perhaps with fear than with expectation. The Black Eagle had beenkind and tender with her when they were alone together. He had heldher to his heart with a display of fondness such as an Indian rarelyshows openly to his child. He had listened to the whole tale of herlove for Walter Prevost without a word of disapprobation or reproach;and sometimes even a playful smile had come upon his dark sternface as her words recalled the memory of feelings experienced inyouth--like a well-remembered song heard again after a long lapse ofyears. Instead of reprehending her attempt to deliver Walter, hecommended it highly.
"It was thy part, my child," said he; "thou shouldst have been a boy,Otaitsa; the warrior's spirit is in the maiden's bosom."
But when she came to speak of her lover's fate--to plead, to sue, toentreat--the stern, grave coldness of the Indian chief returned; andthough she could see that he was full of fixed resolves, she could inno degree discover what they were. The explanation of them she knewwas now to come; and it may be imagined, with what eager and intenseinterest she listened for every word.
There was, of course, some little confusion as the multitude tooktheir places; but it was soon hushed, and then a deep silence ensued.The great pipe was lighted, and sent from hand to hand till it hadpassed all round the circle; and then, and not till then, Black Eaglerose and spoke.
"Have my words been heard?" he asked; "have my warriors examinedwhether any of the dark and infernal order of the Honontkoh areamongst us."
He seated himself again as soon as he had made the inquiry; and, aftera moment's pause, two middle-aged warriors who had been with him onthe preceding day rose, and took a step forward, while one of themsaid,--
"We have heard thy words, and examined. The brother of the Snake,Apukwa the medicine-man, and the Flying Squirrel, are Honontkoh. Thestripe is upon them, and upon none else."
"It is well," said the chief, rising again. "Bring forward that manwho was taken at our Castle-door last night."
Half-a-dozen young men sprang upon their feet, and speedily broughtfrom the door of a neighbouring lodge the half-breed runner, Proctor,whom we have seen with Brooks and Lord H----, at Albany. He had acalumet in his hand, the sign of a peaceful mission; and he showed nofear, for he knew that his life would be respected, although he hadlearned by this time that the Oneidas had been greatly excited by someacts referring to the very object of his mission.
Standing in the midst, then, as calm and collected as he had been inthe fort at Albany, he hardly gave a glance around the circle, butlooked straight, with a cold and inexpressive countenance, at thechief before whom he was placed.
"What hast thou to say?" demanded Black Eagle.
The man remained silent, although there was an evident movement of hislips as if to speak.
"Fear not," said Black Eagle, mistaking the ineffectual effort tospeak for a sign of apprehension, although it really proceeded from anhabitual unwillingness to hear the sound of his own voice; "thou shaltgo in safety, whatever be thy message. Art thou dumb, man? Is thytongue a stone?"
"I am not dumb--I am not afraid," said the runner, with a strongeffort. "Great chiefs in Albany send me to say, 'Give us the boy.'"
There he stopped, for it had cost him much to utter so many words.
"Were they war chiefs?" demanded Black Eagle, aloud.
The man nodded his head, and Black Eagle asked--
"Did they threaten the Oneidas? Did they say they would unbury thehatchet?"
The runner shook his head; and the chief asked--
"What did they say, then, would befall us if we refused to comply?"
"Shame!" replied Proctor, aloud.
Black Eagle suddenly drew his mantle over his face.
A low murmur spread around, like the hum of a hive of bees. When ithad subsided, the chief again rose, and with an air of grave, saddignity, looked round upon his people.
"Ye have heard, O children of the Stone," he said, in a rich, clear,deep-toned voice, "what the chiefs of the pale-faces say of the Oneidanation; and there are warriors here who were with me yesterday, whenour brethren, the Mohawks, reproached me with treachery andinhospitality towards our pale-face brother, Prevost; and the BlackEagle had nothing to answer. Ye know the history. Why should I singagain the song of yesterday? A man of our nation was slain by one ofthe Yengees; and the brethren of the dead man seized upon the son ofPrevost, who is also _our_ son, without searching for him who hadspilt the blood. This was contrary to the custom of the Five Nations.But they say the man was not to be found--he was already beyond ourterritory; and we must take the first we can find to appease thespirit of our brother. Now Prevost is a good man, loved by all theFive Nations, a brother to the red man, a friend who trusted us. Sohard do the Mohawks and the Onondagas think this deed, that they havedealt subtly with the Oneidas, and striven to rescue our captive fromour hands by the crooked ways of the serpent. The pale-face chiefs,too, have sent men into our land, and think darkly of the Oneidas. Butthe Black Eagle saw what they did, and spread his wings and drove themforth. He had no answer for the reproaches of the Mohawks or of theYengees. He will give them both their answer this day by themessenger; and the children of the Stone will thereby know his mind.Let them say if it be good."
Then turning to Proctor, he stretched out his hand towards the south,saying--
"When thou goest hence, two of my warriors shall go with thee to theCastle of the Mohawk, and thou shalt say, 'Why hast thou dealt subtlywith the Oneida? If thou hadst aught against him, why didst thou notsend a messenger of peace to tell thy brother thy mind? or why didstthou not appeal to the great council of the Five Nations to judgebetween thee and him? If thou wilt unbury the hatchet, and cut downthe tree of peace, and bring trouble into the Five Nations, that thepale-face may prevail and our Long House be pulled down to the ground,paint thy face, and dance the war-dance, and come upon the battle-way;but follow not the trail of the serpent, to steal unperceived into thybrother's land.'"
A murmur of approbation followed this bold speech; but the next momentthe chief continued, still addressing Proctor, and saying--
"When thou hast thus spoken to the Mohawk, thou shalt go
on to thepale-face chiefs at Albany, and to them thou shalt say, 'The childrenof the Stone have heard your message. They are the children of thegreat King. He is their father and they love him; but the Oneidas havetheir own laws, and are led by their own chiefs. They take thewar-path against your enemies as against their own; and ye are glad inthe day of battle when they fight the Frenchmen by your side. It issweet to them that you have used no threats; and they would not havetheir white brother think darkly of them. They love, too, the chief,Prevost. They love his son as a brother; but one of their own childrenhas been slain by one of yours, and their law must be fulfilled. Hisspirit must not be shut out from the happy hunting-grounds. They willmourn as a whole nation for Walter Prevost; but Walter Prevost mustdie, unless the murderer be taken. Thus says the Black Eagle, thegreat chief of the Oneida nation; he who has taken a hundred scalps ofhis enemies, and fought in fifteen battles with your foes and his.Give us up the murderer if ye would save the boy. He is in your land:you can find him. Do justly by us in this matter, and walk not in thetrail of the fox to deceive us, and to save from us our captive.'"
Then pausing for an instant, he somewhat lowered his voice, but spokethe succeeding words very slowly and distinctly, in order that everysyllable might not only be impressed upon the mind of the man headdressed, but be clearly heard and comprehended by all the peoplearound.
"Thou shalt say, moreover, to our brethren, the pale-face chiefs atAlbany, 'The Black Eagle finds that Walter Prevost has fallen into thehands of bad men, men who are not to be trusted, dealers in darkthings, vultures whose heads are bare, but whose hearts are covered.The Black Eagle will take the boy from their hands, and will treat himwell, and keep him in safety till the hour come. As ye have said thatthe Oneidas are hasty, that they do rashly, that they have not soughtas they ought to seek--for six moons will Black Eagle keep the lad inpeace, as his own son, to see whether ye will give him up the murdererof an Oneida. But, as the chief would slay his own son, if the laws ofhis people required it at his hands, so will he and the chiefs of hisnation slay Walter Prevost, if, in six moons, ye do not give him upthe murderer. He shall die the death of a warrior, with his handsunbound, and, as Black Eagle knows the spirit that is in him, he issure he will die as a warrior should.' This thou shalt say to theEnglish chiefs; let them look to it; the fate of the boy depends upontheir counsel. Give him a roll of wampum for his reward, and let himgo in peace."
His commands were immediately obeyed, and the half-breed runnerremoved from the circle.
Then, turning to the warriors without reseating himself, the chiefdemanded--
"Have I said well?"
The usual words of approbation followed, repeated by almost everyvoice present; and then Black Eagle resumed, in a sterner tone,saying--
"And now, my children, what shall be done to the Honontkoh? I havealready removed the captive from their hands; for they are a peoplewithout faith. They live in darkness, and they wrap themselves in ashadow. They take their paths in deceit, and we see blood anddissension follow them. Already have they raised against us the wrathof our brethren of the Five Nations; they have brought the yellowcloud of shame upon the Oneidas. They have well nigh severed thethreads which hold the roll of our league together. They have laid thehatchet to the root of the tree which we and our English fatherplanted. I say, let them go forth from amongst us. The Totem of theTortoise casts them forth. We will not have our lodges near theirlodges. They shall not dwell within our palisade. Let them betakethemselves to the darkness of the forest, and to the secret holes ofthe rock; for darkness and secrecy are the dwelling-places of theirhearts. Or let them go, if they will, to the deceitful Hurons, to thepeople beyond Horicon, and fight beside the deceitful Frenchmen. Withus they shall not dwell; let them be seen no more amongst us.--Is myjudgment good?"
A general cry of approbation followed; the council broke up, and thewarriors commenced wandering about, those who came from a distanceseeking hospitality in the neighbouring lodges; for the great lodgeitself could not afford room for all.
To her own little chamber, Otaitsa retired at once; and, barring thedoor, went down upon her knees, to offer up thanksgiving andprayer--thanksgiving, for hope is ever a blessing--prayer, for dangerwas still before her eyes. Safe for the next six months she knewWalter would be, in the careful custody of her father; but she stillprayed earnestly that her mother's God would find some way ofdeliverance, for the sake of Him who died to save mankind.