CHAPTER XXXII.
More than five months had passed, months of great trouble and anxietyto many. The usual tragedies of life had been enacted in many a house,and in many a home: the dark, ever-recurring scene of death andsuffering and grief had passed through the dwellings of rich and poor.Many a farce, too, in public and private, had been exhibited to thegaze; for, in the history of each man and of all the world, theridiculous and the grand, the sad and the cheerful, stand side by sidein strange proximity.
The woods, blazing in their autumnal crimson when last we saw them,had worn and soiled, in about a fortnight, the glorious vestments ofthe autumn, and cast them to the earth; and now they had put on thegreen garments of the summer, and robed themselves in the tender huesof youth. The rivers and the streams, bound in icy chains for many amonth, now dashed wildly and impetuously along in the joy oflately-recovered freedom, and, swollen by the spring rains, in someplaces became torrents; in some places, slowly flooded the flat land,marching over the meadows like a vast invading army.
The beasts of the forest were busy in their coverts, the birds in thebrake, or on the tree-top; the light clouds skimmed along the softblue sky; and the wind tossed the light young branches to and fro inits sport. Everything was gay and active on the earth, and over theearth; everything spoke of renewed life, and energy, and hope.
To the fancy of those who have not seen it, the vast primaeval forestpresents an idea of monotony; and certainly, when seen from adistance, it produces that impression on the mind. Looming dark andsombre, thick and apparently impenetrable, over upland and dell, overplain and mountain, it conveys a sensation of solemnity by its verysameness; and, though the first sight is sublime, its long-continuedpresence is oppressive. But penetrate into its depths, and you willfind infinite variety; now the dense, tangled thicket, through whichthe panther and the wild cat creep with difficulty, and into which thedeer cannot venture; now the quaking morass, unsafe to the foot, yetbearing up the tamarach or cedar, with its rank grasses, itsstrangely-shaped leaves, and its rich and infinitely varied flowers;now the wide grove, extending for miles and miles, with the tall bollsof the trees rising up distinct and separate, and with little or nobrushwood hiding the carpet of dry pine-spindles and cones on whichthey stand; then the broad savanna, with its grass knee-high, greenand fresh and beautiful, and merely a tree here and there to sheltersome spot from the sun, and cast a soft blue shadow on the naturalmeadow; and then again, in many spots, a space of ground where everycharacteristic of the forest is mingled--here thick and tangled brush,there a patch of open green, here the swamp running along thebrook-side, there the sturdy oak or wide-spreading chestnut, standingfar apart in reverence for each other's giant limbs, shading many apleasant slope, or topping the lofty crag.
It was under one of these large trees, on a high bank commanding thewhole prospect round for many and many a mile, and in the eastern partof the province of New York, that three red men were seated in theearly summer of 1758. A little distance in advance of them, andsomewhat lower down the hill, was a small patch of brush, composed offantastic-looking bushes, and one small blasted tree. It formed, as itwere, a sort of screen to the Indians' resting-place from all eyesbelow, yet did not in the least impede their sight as it wandered overthe wide forest world around them. From the elevation on which theywere placed, the eye of the red man, which seems, from constantpractice, to have gained the keenness of the eagle's sight, couldplunge into every part of the woods around where the trees were notactually contiguous. The trail, wherever it quitted the shelter of thebranches; the savanna, wherever it broke the outline of the forest;the river, where it wound along in its course to the ocean; themilitary road from the banks of the Hudson to the head of LakeHoricon; the smallest pond, the little stream, were all spread out toview as if upon a map.
Over the wide, extensive prospect the eyes of those three Indianswandered incessantly, not as if employed in searching for somedefinite object, the direction of which, if not the precise position,they knew, but rather as if they were looking for anything which mightafford them some object of pursuit or interest. They sat there nearlytwo hours in the same position; and during the whole of that time notmore than four or five words passed between them.
At length they began to converse, though at first in a low tone, as ifthe silence had its awe even for them. One of them pointed with hishand towards a spot to the eastward, saying, "There is something doingthere."
In the direction to which he called the attention of his companionswas seen spread out, in the midst of the forest and hills, a small,but exquisitely beautiful lake, seemingly joined on to another, ofmuch greater extent, by a narrow channel. Of the former, the wholeextent could not be seen; for, every here and there, a spur of themountain cut off the view, and broke in upon the beautiful waving lineof the shore. The latter was more distinctly seen, spread out broadand even, with every little islet, headland, and promontory, markedclear and distinctly against the bright, glistening surface of thewaters.
Near the point where the two lakes seemed to meet, the Indians coulddescry walls, and mounds of earth, and various buildings ofconsiderable size; nay, even what was probably the broad banner ofFrance, though it seemed but a mere whitish spot in the distance.
At the moment when the Indians spoke, coming from a distant point onthe larger lake, the extreme end of which was lost to view in a sortof indistinct blue haze, a large boat or ship might be seen, withbroad white sails, wafted swiftly onward by a cold north-easterlywind. Some way behind it, another moving object appeared--a boatlikewise, but much more indistinct; and, here and there nearer inshore, two or three black specks, probably canoes, were darting alongupon the bosom of the lake, like water-flies upon the surface of astill stream.
"The pale-faces take the war-path against each other," said another ofthe Indians, after gazing for a moment or two.
"May they all perish!" exclaimed the third. "Why are our people so madas to help them? Let them fight, and slay, and scalp as many of eachother as they can, and then the red men tomahawk the remainder."
The other two uttered a bitter malediction, in concert with thisfierce, but not impolitic, thought; and then, after one of their longpauses, the first who had spoken, resumed the conversation, saying--
"Yet I would give one of the feathers of the White Bird to know whatthe pale-faces are doing. Their hearts are black against each other.Can you not tell us, Apukwa? You were on the banks of Horicanyesterday, and must have heard the news from Corlear."
"The news from Albany matters much more," answered Apukwa. "TheYengees are marching up with a cloud of fighting-men; and people knownot where they will fall. Some think Oswego; some think Ticonderoga. Iam sure that it is the place of the Singing Waters that they goagainst."
"Will they do much in the war-path?" asked the brother of the Snake;"or will the Frenchman make himself as red as he did last year, at thesouth end of Horicon?"
"The place of the Singing Waters is strong, brother," replied Apukwa,in a musing tone, "and the Frenchmen are great warriors; but theYengees are many in number, and they have called for aid from the FiveNations. I told the Huron who sold me powder, where the eagles wouldcome down; and I think he would not let the tidings slumber beneathhis tongue. The great-winged canoes are coming up Corlear very quick;but I think my words must have been whispered in the French chief'sear, to cause them to fly so quickly to Ticonderoga."
A faint, nearly-suppressed smile came upon the lips of his twocompanions as they heard of this proceeding; but the younger of thethree said--
"And what will Apukwa do in the battle?"
"Scalp my enemies," replied Apukwa, looking darkly round.
"Which is thine enemy?" asked the brother of the Snake.
"Both," answered the medicine-man, bitterly; "and every true Honontkohshould do as I do; follow them closely, and slay every man that flies,be his nation what it may. So long as he be white, it is enough forus. He is an enemy; let us blunt our scalping-knives on the skull
s ofthe pale-faces. Then, when the battle is over, we can take ourtrophies to the conqueror, and say, 'We have been upon thy side.'"
"But will he not know?" suggested the younger man; "will he listen soeasily to the song?"
"How should he know?" asked Apukwa, coldly. "If we took him red men'sscalps, he might doubt; but all he asks is white men's scalps, and wewill take them. They are all alike, and they will have no faces underthem."
This ghastly jest was highly to the taste of the two hearers; and,bending down their heads together, the three continued to converse forseveral minutes in a whisper. At length, one of them said--
"Could we not take Prevost's house as we go? How many brothers did yousay would muster?"
"Nine," answered Apukwa; "and our three selves make twelve." Then,after pausing for a moment or two in thought, he added, "It would besweet as the strawberry and as easy to gather; but there may be thornsnear it. We may tear ourselves, my brothers."
"I fear not," returned the brother of the Snake; "so that I but set myfoot within that lodge, with my rifle in my hand, and my tomahawk inmy belt, I care not what follows."
"The boy's to die," rejoined Apukwa; "why seek more in his lodge atthine own risk?"
The other did not answer; but, after a moment's pause, he asked--"Whois it has built the lodge still farther to the morning?"
"One of the workers of iron," answered Apukwa, meaning the Dutch. "Heis a great chief, they say, and a friend of the Five Nations."
"Then no friend of ours, my brother," responded the other speaker;"for though it be the children of the Stone who have shut the door ofthe lodge against us, and driven us from the council-fire, the FiveNations have confirmed their saying, and made the Honontkoh a peopleapart. Why should we not fire that lodge too, and then steal on to thedwelling of Prevost?"
"Thy lip is thirsty for something," said Apukwa. "Is it the maidenthou wouldst have?"
The other smiled darkly; and, after remaining silent for a shortspace, answered--
"They have taken from me my captive; and my hand can never reach theBlossom I sought to gather. The boy may die, but not by my tomahawk;and, when he does die, I am no better, for I lose that which I soughtto gain by his death. Are Apukwa's eyes misty, that he cannot see? Thespirit of the Snake would have been as well satisfied with the bloodof any other pale-face; but that would not have satisfied me."
"Yet making Prevost's house red will not gather for thee the Blossom,"answered Apukwa.
The third and younger of the Indians laughed, saying----
"The wind changes, Apukwa, and so does the love of our brother. Themaiden in the lodge of Prevost is more beautiful than the Blossom. Wehave seen her thrice since this moon grew big; and my brother callsher the Fawn, because she has become the object of his chase."
"Thou knowest not my thought," said the brother of the Snake, gravely."The maiden is fair, and she moves round her father's lodge like thesun. She shall be the light of mine, too; but the brother of the snakeforgets not those who disappoint him; and the boy Prevost would ratherhave seen the tomahawk falling, than know that the Fawn is in hislodge."
The other two uttered that peculiar humming sound by which the Indianssometimes intimate that they are satisfied; and the conversation whichwent on between them related chiefly to the chances of making asuccessful attack upon the house of Mr. Prevost. Occasionally, indeed,they turned their eyes towards the boats upon Lake Champlain, andcommented upon the struggle that was about to be renewed betweenFrance and England. That each party had made vast preparations waswell known, and intelligence of the extent and nature of thosepreparations had spread far and wide amongst the tribes, withwonderful accuracy as to many of the details, but without any certainknowledge of where the storm was to break.
All saw, however, and comprehended, that a change had come over theBritish government; that the hesitating and doubtful policy which hadhitherto characterized their military movements in America was at anend; and that the contest was now to be waged for the gain and loss ofall the European possessions on the North American continent. Alreadywas it known amongst the Five Nations, although the time for thetransmission of the intelligence was incredibly small, that a largefleet and armament had arrived at Halifax, and that several navalsuccesses over the French had cleared the way for some greatenterprise in the north. At the same time, the neighbourhood of Albanywas full of the bustle of military preparation; a large force wasalready collected under Abercrombie for some great attempt upon thelakes: and from the west news had been received that a British armywas marching rapidly towards the French posts upon the Ohio and theMonongahela.
The Indian nations roused themselves at the sound of war; for, thoughsome few of them acted more regularly in alliance with one or theother of the contending European powers, a greater number than isgenerally believed cared little whom they attacked, or for whom theyfought, or whom they slew; and were, in reality, but as a flock ofvultures spreading their wings at the scent of battle, and ready totake advantage of the carnage, whatever was the result of the strife.