Welcome to PhiloLogic  
   home |  the ARTFL project |  download |  documentation |  sample databases |   
Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851 [1829], The wept of wish ton-wish, volume 1 (Carey, Lea & Carey, Philadelphia) [word count] [eaf059v1].
To look up a word in a dictionary, select the word with your mouse and press 'd' on your keyboard.

Previous section

Next section

Main text

-- --

CHAPTER I.

[figure description] Page 011.[end figure description]

“I may disjoin my hand, but not my faith.”

Shakspeare.

THE incidents of this tale must be sought in a
remote period of the annals of America. A colony
of self-devoted and pious refugees from religious
persecution had landed on the rock of Plymouth,
less than half a century before the time at which
the narrative commences; and they, and their descendants,
had already transformed many a broad
waste of wilderness into smiling fields and cheerful
villages. The labors of the emigrants had been
chiefly limited to the country on the coast, which,
by its proximity to the waters that rolled between
them and Europe, afforded the semblance of a connexion
with the land of their forefathers and the
distant abodes of civilization. But enterprise, and
a desire to search for still more fertile domains, together
with the temptation offered by the vast and
unknown regions that lay along their western and
northern borders, had induced many bold adventurers
to penetrate more deeply into the forests. The
precise spot, to which we desire to transport the
imagination of the reader, was one of these establishments
of what may, not inaptly, be called the
forlorn-hope, in the march of civilization through
the country.

So little was then known of the great outlines
of the American continent, that, when the Lords

-- 012 --

[figure description] Page 012.[end figure description]

Say and Seal, and Brooke, connected with a few
associates, obtained a grant of the territory which
now composes the state of Connecticut, the King of
England affixed his name to a patent, which constituted
them proprietors of a country that should
extend from the shores of the Atlantic to those
of the South Sea. Notwithstanding the apparent
hopelessness of ever subduing, or of even occupying
a territory like this, emigrants from the mother
colony of Massachusetts were found ready to commence
the Herculean labor, within fifteen years
from the day when they had first put foot upon the
well-known rock itself. The fort of Say-Brooke,
the towns of Windsor, Hartford, and New-Haven,
soon sprang into existence, and, from that period to
this, the little community, which then had birth,
has been steadily, calmly, and prosperously advancing
in its career, a model of order and reason, and
the hive from which swarms of industrious, hardy
and enlightened yeomen have since spread themselves
over a surface so vast, as to create an impression
that they still aspire to the possession of
the immense regions included in their original grant.

Among the religionists, whom disgust of persecution
had early driven into the voluntary exile of
the colonies, was more than an usual proportion of
men of character and education. The reckless and
the gay, younger sons, soldiers unemployed, and
students from the inns of court, early sought advancement
and adventure in the more southern
provinces, where slaves offered impunity from labor,
and where war, with a bolder and more stirring
policy, oftener gave rise to scenes of excitement,
and, of course, to the exercise of the faculties best
suited to their habits and dispositions. The more
grave, and the religiously-disposed, found refuge in
the colonies of New-England. Thither a multitude
of private gentlemen transferred their fortunes and

-- 013 --

[figure description] Page 013.[end figure description]

their families, imparting a character of intelligence
and a moral elevation to the country, which it has
nobly sustained to the present hour.

The nature of the civil wars in England had enlisted
many men of deep and sincere piety in the
profession of arms. Some of them had retired to
the colonies before the troubles of the mother country
reached their crisis, and others continued to
arrive, throughout the whole period of their existence,
until the restoration; when crowds of those
who had been disaffected to the house of Stuart
sought the security of these distant possessions.

A stern, fanatical soldier, of the name of Heathcote,
had been among the first of his class, to throw
aside the sword for the implements of industry
peculiar to the advancement of a newly-established
country. How far the influence of a young wife
may have affected his decision it is not germane to
our present object to consider, though the records,
from which the matter we are about to relate is
gleaned, give reason to suspect that he thought his
domestic harmony would not be less secure in the
wilds of the new world, than among the companions
with whom his earlier associations would naturally
have brought him in communion.

Like himself, his consort was born of one of those
families, which, taking their rise in the franklins of
the times of the Edwards and Henrys, had become
possessors of hereditary landed estates, that, by their
gradually-increasing value, had elevated them to
the station of small country gentlemen. In most
other nations of Europe, they would have been rated
in the class of the petite noblesse. But the domestic
happiness of Capt. Heathcote was doomed to receive
a fatal blow, from a quarter where circumstances
had given him but little reason to apprehend danger.
The very day he landed in the

-- 014 --

[figure description] Page 014.[end figure description]

long-wished-for asylum, his wife made him the father of a noble
boy, a gift that she bestowed at the melancholy
price of her own existence. Twenty years the senior
of the woman who had followed his fortunes to these
distant regions, the retired warrior had always considered
it to be perfectly and absolutely within the
order of things, that he himself was to be the first
to pay the debt of nature. While the visions which
Captain Heathcote entertained of a future world
were sufficiently vivid and distinct, there is reason
to think they were seen through a tolerably long
vista of quiet and comfortable enjoyment in this.
Though the calamity cast an additional aspect of
seriousness over a character that was already more
than chastened by the subtleties of sectarian doctrines,
he was not of a nature to be unmanned by
any vicissitude of human fortune. He lived on,
useful and unbending in his habits, a pillar of strength
in the way of wisdom and courage to the immediate
neighborhood among whom he resided, but reluctant
from temper, and from a disposition which had
been shadowed by withered happiness, to enact that
part in the public affairs of the little state, to which
his comparative wealth and previous habits might
well have entitled him to aspire. He gave his son
such an education as his own resources and those of
the infant colony of Massachusetts afforded, and, by
a sort of delusive piety, into whose merits we have
no desire to look, he thought he had also furnished
a commendable evidence of his own desperate resignation
to the will of Providence, in causing him
to be publicly christened by the name of Content.
His own baptismal appellation was Mark; as indeed
had been that of most of his ancestors, for two or
three centuries. When the world was a little uppermost
in his thoughts, as sometimes happens with
the most humbled spirits, he had even been heard
to speak of a Sir Mark of his family, who had

-- 015 --

[figure description] Page 015.[end figure description]

ridden a knight in the train of one of the more warlike
kings of his native land.

There is some ground for believing, that the great
parent of evil early looked with a malignant eye
on the example of peacefulness, and of unbending
morality, that the colonists of New-England were
setting to the rest of Christendom. At any rate,
come from what quarter they might, schisms and
doctrinal contentions arose among the emigrants
themselves; and men, who together had deserted
the fire-sides of their forefathers in quest of religious
peace, were ere long seen separating their
fortunes, in order that each might enjoy, unmolested,
those peculiar shades of faith, which all had the
presumption, no less than the folly, to believe were
necessary to propitiate the omnipotent and merciful
father of the universe. If our task were one of
theology, a wholesome moral on the vanity, no less
than on the absurdity of the race, might be here
introduced to some advantage.

When Mark Heathcote announced to the community,
in which he had now sojourned more than
twenty years, that he intended for a second time
to establish his altars in the wilderness, in the hope
that he and his household might worship God as to
them seemed most right, the intelligence was received
with a feeling allied to awe. Doctrine and zeal
were momentarily forgotten, in the respect and attachment
which had been unconsciously created
by the united influence of the stern severity of his
air, and of the undeniable virtues of his practice.
The elders of the settlement communed with him
freely and in charity; but the voice of conciliation
and alliance came too late. He listened to the reasonings
of the ministers, who were assembled from
all the adjoining parishes, in sullen respect; and he
joined in the petitions for light and instruction, that
were offered up on the occasion, with the deep

-- 016 --

[figure description] Page 016.[end figure description]

reverence with which he ever drew near to the foot-stool
of the Almighty; but he did both in a temper
into which too much positiveness of spiritual pride
had entered, to open his heart to that sympathy
and charity, which, as they are the characteristics
of our mild and forbearing doctrines, should be the
study of those who profess to follow their precepts.
All that was seemly, and all that was usual, were
done; but the purpose of the stubborn sectarian
remained unchanged. His final decision is worthy
of being recorded.

“My youth was wasted in ungodliness and ignorance,”
he said, “but in my manhood have I known
the Lord. Near two-score years have I toiled for
the truth, and all that weary time have I past in
trimming my lamps, lest, like the foolish virgins, I
should be caught unprepared; and now, when my
loins are girded and my race is nearly run, shall I
become a backslider and falsifier of the word? Much
have I endured, as you know, in quitting the earthly
mansion of my fathers, and in encountering the dangers
of sea and land for the faith; and, rather than
let go its hold, will I once more cheerfully devote
to the howling wilderness, ease, offspring, and, should
it be the will of Providence, life itself!”

The day of parting was one of unfeigned and
general sorrow. Notwithstanding the austerity of
the old man's character, and the nearly unbending
severity of his brow, the milk of human kindness
had often been seen distilling from his stern nature
in acts that did not admit of misinterpretation.
There was scarcely a young beginner in the laborious
and ill-requited husbandry of the township he
inhabited, a district at no time considered either
profitable or fertile, who could not recall some secret
and kind aid which had flowed from a hand that,
to the world, seemed clenched in cautious and reserved
frugality; nor did any of the faithful of his

-- 017 --

[figure description] Page 017.[end figure description]

vicinity cast their fortunes together in wedlock,
without receiving from him evidence of an interest
in their worldly happiness, that was far more substantial
than words.

On the morning when the vehicles, groaning with
the household goods of Mark Healthcote, were seen
quitting his door, and taking the road which led to
the sea-side, not a human being, of sufficient age,
within many miles of his residence, was absent from
the interesting spectacle. The leave-taking, as
usual on all serious occasions, was preceded by a
hymn and prayer, and then the sternly-minded
adventurer embraced his neighbors, with a mien,
in which a subdued exterior struggled fearfully
and strangely with emotions that, more than once,
threatened to break through even the formidable
barriers of his acquired manner. The inhabitants
of every building on the road were in the open air,
to receive and to return the parting benediction.
More than once, they, who guided his teams, were
commanded to halt, and all near, possessing human
aspirations and human responsibility, were collected
to offer petitions in favor of him who departed and
of those who remained. The requests for mortal
privileges were somewhat light and hasty, but the
askings in behalf of intellectual and spiritual light
were long, fervent, and oft-repeated. In this characteristic
manner did one of the first of the emigrants
to the new world make his second removal into
scenes of renewed bodily suffering, privation and
danger.

Neither person nor property was transferred from
place to place, in this country, at the middle of the
seventeenth century, with the dispatch and with
the facilities of the present time. The roads were
necessarily few and short, and communication by
water was irregular, tardy, and far from commodious.
A wide barrier of forest lying between that

-- 018 --

[figure description] Page 018.[end figure description]

portion of Massachusetts-bay from which Mark
Heathcote emigrated, and the spot, near the Connecticut
river, to which it was his intention to proceed,
he was induced to adopt the latter mode of
conveyance. But a long delay intervened between
the time when he commenced his short journey to
the coast, and the hour when he was finally enabled
to embark. During this detention he and his household
sojourned among the godly-minded of the
narrow peninsula, where there already existed the
germ of a flourishing town, and where the spires
of a noble and picturesque city now elevate themselves
above so many thousand roofs.

The son did not leave the colony of his birth and
the haunts of his youth, with the same unwavering
obedience to the call of duty, as the father. There
was a fair, a youthful, and a gentle being in the
recently-established town of Boston, of an age,
station, opinions, fortunes, and, what was of still
greater importance, of sympathies suited to his own.
Her form had long mingled with those holy images,
which his stern instruction taught him to keep most
familiarly before the mirror of his thoughts. It is
not surprising, then, that the youth hailed the delay
as propitious to his wishes, or that he turned it to
the account, which the promptings of a pure affection
so naturally suggested. He was united to the
gentle Ruth Harding only the week before the
father sailed on his second pilgrimage.

It is not our intention to dwell on the incidents of
the voyage. Though the genius of an extraordinary
man had discovered the world which was
now beginning to fill with civilized men, navigation
at that day was not brilliant in accomplishments.
A passage among the shoals of Nantucket must
have been one of actual danger, no less than of
terror; and the ascent of the Connecticut itself was
an exploit worthy of being mentioned. In due time

-- 019 --

[figure description] Page 019.[end figure description]

the adventurers landed at the English fort of Hartford,
where they tarried for a season, in order to
obtain rest and spiritual comfort. But the peculiarity
of doctrine, on which Mark Heathcote laid so
much stress, was one that rendered it advisable for
him to retire still further from the haunts of men.
Accompanied by a few followers, he proceeded on
an exploring expedition, and the end of the summer
found him once more established on an estate that
he had acquired by the usual simple forms practised
in the colonies, and at the trifling cost for which
extensive districts were then set apart as the property
of individuals.

The love of the things of this life, while it certainly
existed, was far from being predominant in
the affections of the Puritan. He was frugal from
habit and principle, more than from an undue
longing after worldly wealth. He contented himself,
therefore, with acquiring an estate that should be
valuable, rather from its quality and beauty, than
from its extent. Many such places offered themselves,
between the settlements of Weathersfield
and Hartford, and that imaginary line which separated
the possessions of the colony he had quitted,
from those of the one he joined. He made his location,
as it is termed in the language of the country,
near the northern boundary of the latter. This
spot, by the aid of an expenditure that might have
been considered lavish for the country and the age,
of some lingering of taste, which even the self-denying
and subdued habits of his later life had
not entirely extinguished, and of great natural
beauty in the distribution of land, water and wood,
the emigrant contrived to convert into an abode,
that was not more desirable for its retirement from
the temptations of the world, than for its rural
loveliness.

After this memorable act of conscientious

-- 020 --

[figure description] Page 020.[end figure description]

self-devotion, years passed away in quiet, amid a species
of negative prosperity. Rumors from the old world
reached the ears of the tenants of this secluded
settlement, months after the events to which they
referred were elsewhere forgotten, and tumults and
wars in the sister colonies came to their knowledge
only at distant and tardy intervals. In the mean
time, the limits of the colonial establishments were
gradually extending themselves, and valleys were
beginning to be cleared nearer and nearer to their
own. Old age had now begun to make some visible
impression on the iron frame of the Captain, and
the fresh color of youth and health, with which his
son had entered the forest, was giving way to the
brown covering produced by exposure and toil. We
say of toil, for, independently of the habits and
opinions of the country, which strongly reprobated
idleness, even in those most gifted by fortune, the
daily difficulties of their situation, the chase, and
the long and intricate passages that the veteran
himself was compelled to adventure in the surrounding
forest, partook largely of the nature of
the term we have used. Ruth continued blooming
and youthful, though maternal anxiety was soon
added to her other causes of care. Still, for a long
season, nought occurred to excite extraordinary
regrets for the step they had taken, or to create
particular uneasiness in behalf of the future. The
borderers, for such by their frontier position they
had in truth become, heard the strange and awful
tidings of the dethronement of one king, of the
interregnum, as a reign of more than usual vigor
and prosperity is called, and of the restoration of
the son of him who is strangely enough termed a
martyr. To all these eventful and unwonted chances
in the fortunes of kings, Mark Heathcote listened
with deep and reverential submission to the will of
him, in whose eyes crowns and sceptres are merely

-- 021 --

[figure description] Page 021.[end figure description]

the more costly baubles of the world. Like most of
his contemporaries, who had sought shelter in the
western continent, his political opinions, if not absolutely
republican, had a leaning to liberty that
was strongly in opposition to the doctrine of the
divine rights of the monarch, while he had been
too far removed from the stirring passions which
had gradually excited those nearer to the throne,
to lose their respect for its sanctity, and to sully
its brightness with blood. When the transient and
straggling visiters that, at long intervals, visited his
settlement, spoke of the Protector, who for so many
years ruled England with an iron hand, the eyes of
the old man would gleam with sudden and singular
interest; and once, when commenting after evening
prayer on the vanity and the vicissitudes of this life,
he acknowledged that the extraordinary individual,
who was, in substance if not in name, seated on the
throne of the Plantagenets, had been the boon
companion and ungodly associate of many of his
youthful hours. Then would follow a long, whole-some,
extemporaneous homily on the idleness of
setting the affections on the things of life, and a
half-suppressed, but still intelligible commendation
of the wiser course which had led him to raise his
own tabernacle in the wilderness, instead of weakening
the chances of eternal glory by striving too
much for the possession of the treacherous vanities
of the world.

But even the gentle and ordinarily little observant
Ruth might trace the kindling of the eye, the knitting
of the brow, and the flushings of his pale and furrowed
cheek, as the murderous conflicts of the civil
wars became the themes of the ancient soldier's discourse.
There were moments when religious submission,
and we had almost said religious precepts,
were partially forgotten, as he explained to his attentive
son and listening grandchild, the nature of

-- 022 --

[figure description] Page 022.[end figure description]

the onset, or the quality and dignity of the retreat.
At such times, his still nervous hand would even
wield the blade, in order to instruct the latter in its
uses, and many a long winter evening was passed in
thus indirectly teaching an art, that was so much at
variance with the mandates of his divine master.
The chastened soldier, however, never forgot to close
his instruction with a petition extraordinary, in the
customary prayer, that no descendant of his should
ever take life from a being unprepared to die, except
in justifiable defence of his faith, his person, or his
lawful rights. It must be admitted, that a liberal
construction of the reserved privileges would leave
sufficient matter, to exercise the subtlety of one
subject to any extraordinary propensity to arms.

Few opportunities were however offered, in their
remote situation and with their peaceful habits, for
the practice of a theory that had been taught in so
many lessons. Indian alarms, as they were termed,
were not unfrequent, but, as yet, they had never
produced more than terror in the bosoms of the gentle
Ruth and her young offspring. It is true, they had
heard of travellers massacred, and of families separated
by captivity, but, either by a happy fortune,
or by more than ordinary prudence in the settlers
who were established along that immediate frontier,
the knife and the tomahawk had as yet been sparingly
used in the colony of Connecticut. A threatening
and dangerous struggle with the Dutch, in the
adjoining province of New-Netherlands, had been
averted by the foresight and moderation of the rulers
of the new plantations; and though a warlike and
powerful native chief kept the neighboring colonies
of Massachusetts and Rhode-Island in a state of
constant watchfulness, from the cause just mentioned
the apprehension of danger was greatly weakened
in the breasts of those so remote as the individuals
who composed the family of our emigrant.

-- 023 --

[figure description] Page 023.[end figure description]

In this quiet manner did years glide by, the surrounding
wilderness slowly retreating from the habitations
of the Heathcotes, until they found themselves
in the possession of as many of the comforts
of life, as their utter seclusion from the rest of the
world could give them reason to expect.

With this preliminary explanation, we shall refer
the reader to the succeeding narrative for a more
minute, and we hope for a more interesting account
of the incidents of a legend that may prove too
homely for the tastes of those, whose imaginations
seek the excitement of scenes more stirring, or of a
condition of life less natural.

CHAPTER II.

Sir, I do know you;
And dare, upon the warrant of my art,
Commend a dear thing to you.
King Lear.

At the precise time when the action of our piece
commences, a fine and fruitful season was drawing
to a close. The harvests of the hay and of the
smaller corns had long been over, and the younger
Heathcote with his laborers had passed a day in depriving
the luxuriant maize of its tops, in order to
secure the nutritious blades for fodder, and to admit
the sun and air to harden a grain, that is almost considered
the staple production of the region he inhabited.
The veteran Mark had ridden among the
workmen, during their light toil, as well to enjoy a
sight which promised abundance to his flocks and
herds, as to throw in, on occasion, some wholesome
spiritual precept, in which doctrinal subtlety was
far more prominent than the rules of practice. The
hirelings of his son, for he had long since yielded the
management of the estate to Content, were,

-- 024 --

[figure description] Page 024.[end figure description]

without an exception, young men born in the country,
and long use and much training had accustomed
them to a blending of religious exercises with most
of the employments of life. They listened, therefore,
with respect, nor did an impious smile, or an
impatient glance, escape the lightest-minded of their
number, during his exhortations, though the homilies
of the old man were neither very brief, nor particularly
original. But devotion to the one great
cause of their existence, austere habits, and unrelaxed
industry in keeping alive a flame of zeal that
had been kindled in the other hemisphere, to burn
longest and brightest in this, had interwoven the
practice mentioned with most of the opinions and
pleasures of these metaphysical, though simple-minded
people. The toil went on none the less
cheerily for the extraordinary accompaniment, and
Content himself, by a certain glimmering of superstition,
which appears to be the concomitant of excessive
religious zeal, was fain to think that the sun
shone more brightly on their labors, and that the
earth gave forth more of its fruits, while these holy
sentiments were flowing from the lips of a father
whom he piously loved and deeply reverenced.

But when the sun, usually at that season, in the
climate of Connecticut, a bright unshrouded orb,
fell towards the tree-tops which bounded the western
horizon, the old man began to grow weary with his
own well-doing. He therefore finished his discourse
with a wholesome admonition to the youths to complete
their tasks before they quitted the field; and,
turning the head of his horse, he rode slowly, and
with a musing air, towards the dwellings. It is probable
that for some time the thoughts of Mark were
occupied with the intellectual matter he had just
been handling with so much power; but when his
little nag stopped of itself on a small eminence,
which the crooked cow-path he was following

-- 025 --

[figure description] Page 025.[end figure description]

crossed, his mind yielded to the impression of more worldly
and more sensible objects. As the scene, that drew
his contemplations from so many abstract theories
to the realities of life, was peculiar to the country,
and is more or less connected with the subject of
our tale, we shall endeavor briefly to describe it.

A small tributary of the Connecticut divided the
view into two nearly equal parts. The fertile flats,
that extended on each of its banks for more than a
mile, had been early stripped of their burthen of
forest, and they now lay in placid meadows, or in
fields from which the grain of the season had lately
disappeared, and over which the plow had already
left the marks of recent tillage. The whole of the
plain, which ascended gently from the rivulet towards
the forest, was subdivided in inclosures, by
numberless fences, constructed in the rude but substantial
manner of the country. Rails, in which
lightness and economy of wood had been but little
consulted, lying in zigzag lines, like the approaches
which the besieger makes in his cautious advance
to the hostile fortress, were piled on each other,
until barriers seven or eight feet in height, were
interposed to the inroads of vicious cattle. In one
spot, a large square vacancy had been cut into the
forest, and, though numberless stumps of trees darkened
its surface, as indeed they did many of the
fields on the flats themselves, bright, green grain
was sprouting forth, luxuriantly, from the rich and
virgin soil. High against the side of an adjacent
hill, that might aspire to be called a low rocky
mountain, a similar invasion had been made on the
dominion of the trees; but caprice or convenience
had induced an abandonment of the clearing, after
it had ill requited the toil of felling the timber by
a single crop. In this spot, straggling, girdled, and
consequently dead trees, piles of logs, and black and
charred stubs, were seen deforming the beauty of a

-- 026 --

[figure description] Page 026.[end figure description]

field, that would, otherwise, have been striking from
its deep setting in the woods. Much of the surface
of this opening, too, was now concealed by bushes
of what is termed the second growth; though, here
and there, places appeared, in which the luxuriant
white clover, natural to the country, had followed
the close grazing of the flocks. The eyes of Mark
were bent, inquiringly, on this clearing, which, by
an air line, might have been half a mile from the
place where his horse had stopped, for the sounds
of a dozen differently toned cow-bells were brought,
on the still air of the evening, to his ears, from
among its bushes.

The evidences of civilization were the least
equivocal, however, on and around a natural elevation
in the land, which arose so suddenly on the
very bank of the stream, as to give to it the appearance
of a work of art. Whether these mounds
once existed everywhere on the face of the earth,
and have disappeared before long tillage and labor,
we shall not presume to conjecture; but we have
reason to think that they occur much more frequently
in certain parts of our own country, than
in any other familiarly known to ordinary travellers;
unless perhaps it may be in some of the valleys
of Switzerland. The practised veteran had
chosen the summit of this flattened cone, for the
establishment of that species of military defence,
which the situation of the country, and the character
of the enemy he had to guard against, rendered
advisable, as well as customary.

The dwelling was of wood, and constructed of the
ordinary frame-work, with its thin covering of
boards. It was long, low, and irregular; bearing
marks of having been reared at different periods,
as the wants of an increasing family had required
additional accommodation. It stood near the verge
of the natural declivity, and on that side of the

-- 027 --

[figure description] Page 027.[end figure description]

hill where its base was washed by the rivulet, a
rude piazza stretching along the whole of its front
and overhanging the stream. Several large, irregular,
and clumsy chimneys, rose out of different
parts of the roofs, another proof that comfort, rather
than taste, had been consulted in the disposition of
the buildings. There were also two or three de
tached offices on the summit of the hill, placed
near the dwellings, and at points most convenient
for their several uses. A stranger might have remarked
that they were so disposed as to form, far
as they went, the different sides of a hollow square.
Notwithstanding the great length of the principal
building, and the disposition of the more minute and
detached parts, this desirable formation would not,
however, have been obtained, were it not that two
rows of rude constructions in logs, from which the
bark had not even been stripped, served to eke out
the parts that were deficient. These primeval edifices
were used to contain various domestic articles,
no less than provisions; and they also furnished numerous
lodging-rooms for the laborers and the inferior
dependants of the farm. By the aid of a few
strong and high gates of hewn timber, those parts
of the buildings which had not been made to unite
in the original construction, were sufficiently connected
to oppose so many barriers against admission
into the inner court.

But the building which was most conspicuous by
its position, no less than by the singularity of its
construction, stood on a low, artificial mound, in the
centre of the quadrangle. It was high, hexagonal
in shape, and crowned with a roof that came to a
point, and from whose peak rose a towering flagstaff.
The foundation was of stone; but, at the
height of a man above the earth, the sides were
made of massive, squared logs, firmly united by an
ingenious combination of their ends, as well as by

-- 028 --

[figure description] Page 028.[end figure description]

perpendicular supporters pinned closely into their
sides. In this citadel, or block-house, as from its
materials it was technically called, there were two
different tiers of long, narrow loop-holes, but no
regular windows. The rays of the setting sun, however,
glittered on one or two small openings in the
roof, in which glass had been set, furnishing evidence
that the summit of the building was sometimes used
for other purposes than those of defence.

About half-way up the sides of the eminence, on
which the dwelling stood, was an unbroken line of
high palisadoes, made of the bodies of young trees,
firmly knit together by braces and horizontal pieces
of timbers, and evidently kept in a state of jealous
and complete repair. The air of the whole of this
frontier fortress was neat and comfortable, and, considering
that the use of artillery was unknown to
those forests, not unmilitary.

At no great distance from the base of the hill,
stood the barns and the stables. They were surrounded
by a vast range of rude but warm sheds,
beneath which sheep and horned cattle were usually
sheltered from the storms of the rigorous winters
of the climate. The surfaces of the meadows, immediately
around the out-buildings, were of a smoother
and richer sward, than those in the distance, and
the fences were on a far more artificial, and perhaps
durable, though scarcely on a more serviceable plan.
A large orchard of some ten or fifteen years' growth,
too, added greatly to the air of improvement, which
put this smiling valley in such strong and pleasing
contrast to the endless and nearly-untenanted woods
by which it was environed.

Of the interminable forest, it is not necessary to
speak. With the solitary exception on the mountain-side,
and of here and there a wind-row, along
which the trees had been uprooted, by the furious
blasts that sometimes sweep off acres of our trees

-- 029 --

[figure description] Page 029.[end figure description]

in a minute, the eye could find no other object to
study in the vast setting of this quiet rural picture,
but the seemingly endless maze of wilderness. The
broken surface of the land, however, limited the
view to an horizon of no great extent, though the
art of man could scarcely devise colors so vivid, or
so gay, as those which were afforded by the brilliant
hues of the foliage. The keen, biting frosts, known
at the close of a New-England autumn, had already
touched the broad and fringed leaves of the maples,
and the sudden and secret process had been wrought
upon all the other varieties of the forest, producing
that magical effect, which can be nowhere seen,
except in regions in which nature is so bountiful and
luxuriant in summer, and so sudden and so stern in
the change of the seasons.

Over this picture of prosperity and peace, the
eye of old Mark Heathcote wandered with a keen
degree of worldly prudence. The melancholy sounds
of the various toned bells, ringing hollow and plaintively
among the arches of the woods, gave him reason
to believe that the herds of the family were returning,
voluntarily, from their unlimited forest pasturage.
His grandson, a fine spirited boy of some
fourteen years, was approaching through the fields.
The youngster drove before him a small flock, which
domestic necessity compelled the family to keep at
great occasional loss, and at a heavy expense of
time and trouble; both of which could alone protect
them from the ravages of the beasts of prey. A
species of half-witted serving-lad, whom charity had
induced the old man to harbor among his dependants,
was seen issuing from the woods, nearly in a line
with the neglected clearing on the mountain-side.
The latter advanced, shouting and urging before
him a drove of clots, as shaggey, as wayward, and
nearly as untamed, as himself.

-- 030 --

[figure description] Page 030.[end figure description]

“How now, weak one,” said the Puritan, with a
severe eye, as the two lads approached him, with
their several charges, from different directions, and
nearly at the same instant; “how now, sirrah! dost
worry the cattle in this gait, when the eyes of the
prudent are turned from thee? Do as thou wouldst
be done by, is a just and healthful admonition, that
the learned and the simple, the weak and the strong
of mind, should alike recall to their thoughts and
their practice. I do not know that an over-driven
colt will be at all more apt to make a gentle and
useful beast in its prime, than one treated with
kindness and care.”

“I believe the evil one has got into all the kine,
no less than into the foals,” sullenly returned the
lad; “I've called to them in anger, and I've spoken
to them as if they had been my natural kin, and
yet neither fair word nor foul tongue will bring them
to hearken to advice. There is something frightful
in the woods this very sun-down, master; or colts,
that I have driven the summer through, would not
be apt to give this unfair treatment to one they
ought to know to be their friend.”

“Thy sheep are counted, Mark?” resumed the
grandfather, turning towards his descendant with
a less austere, but always an authoritative brow;
“thy mother hath need of every fleece, to provide
covering for thee and others like thee; thou knowest,
child, that the creatures are few, and our winters
weary and cold.”

“My mother's loom shall never be idle from carelessness
of mine,” returned the confident boy; “but
counting and wishing cannot make seven-and-thirty
fleeces, where there are only six-and-thirty backs to
carry them. I have been an hour among the briars
and bushes of the hill logging, looking for the lost
wether, and yet neither lock, hoof, hide, nor horn,
is there to say what hath befallen the animal.”

-- 031 --

[figure description] Page 031.[end figure description]

“Thou hast lost a sheep!—this carelessness will
cause thy mother to grieve.”

“Grandfather, I have been no idler. Since the
last hunt, the flock hath been allowed to browse the
woods; for no man, in all that week, saw wolf, panther,
or bear, though the country was up, from the
great river to the outer settlements of the colony.
The biggest four-footed animal, that lost its hide in
the muster, was a thin-ribbed deer, and the stoutest
battle given, was between wild Whittal Ring, here,
and a wood-chuck that kept him at arm's-length, for
the better part of an afternoon.”

“Thy tale may be true, but it neither finds that
which is lost, nor completeth the number of thy
mother's flock. Hast thou ridden carefully throughout
the clearing? It is not long, since I saw the animals
grazing in that quarter. What hast thou twisting
in thy fingers, in that wasteful and unthankful
manner, Whittal?”

“What would make a winter blanket, if there was
enough of it! wool! and wool, too, that came from
the thigh of old Straight-Horns; else have I forgotten
a leg, that gives the longest and coarsest hair at
the shearing.”

“That truly seemeth a lock from the animal that
is wanting,” exclaimed the other boy. “There is
no other creature in the flock, with fleece so coarse
and shaggy. Where found you the handful, Whittal
Ring?”

“Growing on the branch of a thorn. Queer fruit
this, masters, to be seen where young plums ought
to ripen!”

“Go, go,” interrupted the old man; “thou idlest,
and mispendest the time in vain talk. Go, fold thy
flock, Mark; and do thou, weak-one, house thy charge
with less uproar than is wont. We should remember
that the voice is given to man, firstly, that he
may improve the blessing in thanksgivings and

-- 032 --

[figure description] Page 032.[end figure description]

petitions; secondly, to communicate such gifts as may
be imparted to himself, and which it is his bounden
duty to attempt to impart to others; and then, thirdly,
to declare his natural wants and inclinations.”

With this admonition, which probably proceeded
from a secret consciousness in the Puritan that he
had permitted a momentary cloud of selfishness to
obscure the brightness of his faith, the party separated.
The grandson and the hireling took their several
ways to the folds, while old Mark himself slowly
continued his course towards the dwellings. It was
near enough to the hours of darkness, to render the
preparations we have mentioned prudent; still, no
urgency called for particular haste, in the return of
the veteran to the shelter and protection of his own
comfortable and secure abode. He therefore loitered
along the path, occasionally stopping to look into
the prospects of the young crops, that were beginning
to spring up in readiness for the coming year,
and at times bending his gaze around the whole of
his limited horizon, like one who had the habit of
exceeding and unremitted care.

One of these numerous pauses promised to be
much longer than usual. Instead of keeping his understanding
eye on the grain, the look of the old
man appeared fastened, as by a charm, on some distant
and obscure object. Doubt and uncertainty,
for many minutes, seemed to mingle in his gaze. But
all hesitation had apparently disappeared, as his lips
severed, and he spoke, perhaps unconsciously to himself,
aloud.

“It is no deception,” were the low words, “but a
living and an accountable creature of the Lord's.
Many a day has passed since such a sight hath been
witnessed in this vale; but my eye greatly deceives
me, or yonder cometh one ready to ask for hospitality,
and, peradventure, for Christian and brotherly
communion.”

-- 033 --

[figure description] Page 033.[end figure description]

The sight of the aged emigrant had not deceived
him. One, who appeared a wayworn and weary
traveller, had indeed ridden out of the forest, at a
point where a path, that was easier to be traced by
the blazed trees that lay along its route, than by any
marks on the earth itself, issued into the cleared
land. The progress of the stranger had, at first,
been so wary and slow, as to bear the manner of exceeding
and mysterious caution. The blind road,
along which he must have ridden not only far but
hard, or night had certainly overtaken him in the
woods, led to one of the distant settlements that lay
near to the fertile banks of the Connecticut. Few
ever followed its windings, but they who had especial
affairs, or extraordinary communion, in the way of
religious friendships, with the proprietors of the Wish-Ton-Wish,
as, in commemoration of the first bird
that had been seen by the emigrants, the valley of
the Heathcotes was called.

Once fairly in view, any doubt or apprehension,
that the stranger might at first have entertained,
disappeared. He rode boldly and steadily forward,
until he drew a rein that his impoverished and
weary beast gladly obeyed, within a few feet of the
proprietor of the valley, whose gaze had never ceased
to watch his movements, from the instant when the
other first came within view. Before speaking, the
stranger, a man whose head was getting gray, apparently
as much with hardship as with time, and one
whose great weight would have proved a grievous
burthen, in a long ride, to even a better-conditioned
beast than the ill-favored provincial hack he had
ridden, dismounted, and threw the bridle loose upon
the drooping neck of the animal. The latter, without
a moment's delay, and with a greediness that denoted
long abstinence, profited by its liberty, to crop
the herbage where it stood.

“I cannot be mistaken, when I suppose that I

-- 034 --

[figure description] Page 034.[end figure description]

have at length reached the valley of the Wish-Ton-Wish,”
the visiter said, touching a soiled and slouched
beaver that more than half concealed his features.
The question was put in an English that be-spoke
a descent from those who dwell in the midland
counties of the mother country, rather than in that
intonation which is still to be traced, equally in the
western portions of England and in the eastern states
of the Union. Notwithstanding the purity of his
accent, there was enough in the form of his speech
to denote a severe compliance with the fashion of
the religionists of the times. He used that measured
and methodical tone, which was, singularly enough,
believed to distinguish an entire absence of affectation
in language.

“Thou hast reached the dwelling of him thou
seekest; one who is a submissive sojourner in the
wilderness of the world, and an humble servitor in
the outer temple.”

“This then is Mark Heathcote!” repeated the
stranger in tones of interest, regarding the other
with a look of long, and, possibly, of suspicious investigation.

“Such is the name I bear. A fitting confidence
in him who knows so well how to change the wilds
into the haunts of men, and much suffering, have
made me the master of what thou seest. Whether
thou comest to tarry a night, a week, a month, or
even for a still longer season, as a brother in care,
and I doubt not one who striveth for the right, I bid
thee welcome.”

The stranger thanked his host, by a slow inclination
of the head; but the gaze, which began to partake
a little of the look of recognition, was still too
earnest and engrossing to admit of verbal reply. On
the other hand, though the old man had scanned the
broad and rusty beaver, the coarse and well-worn
doublet, the heavy boots, and, in short, the whole

-- 035 --

[figure description] Page 035.[end figure description]

attire of his visiter, in which he saw no vain conformity
to idle fashions to condemn, it was evident that
personal recollection had not the smallest influence
in quickening his hospitality.

“Thou hast arrived happily,” continued the
Puritan: “had night overtaken thee in the forest,
unless much practised in the shifts of our young
woodsmen, hunger, frost, and a supperless bed of
brush, would have given thee motive to think more
of the body than is either profitable or seemly.”

The stranger might possibly have known the
embarrassment of these several hardships; for the
quick and unconscious glance he threw over his
soiled dress, should have betrayed some familiarity,
already, with the privations to which his host
alluded. As neither of them, however, seemed
disposed to waste further time on matters of such
light moment, the traveller put an arm through the
bridle of his horse, and, in obedience to an invitation
from the owner of the dwelling, they took their
way towards the fortified edifice on the natural mound.

The task of furnishing litter and provender to
the jaded beast was performed by Whittal Ring,
under the inspection, and, at times, under the instructions,
of its owner and his host, both of whom
appeared to take a kind and commendable interest
in the comfort of a faithful hack, that had evidently
suffered long and much in the service of its master.
When this duty was discharged, the old man and
his unknown guest entered the house together; the
frank and unpretending hospitality of a country
like that they were in, rendering suspicion or hesitation
qualities that were unknown to the reception
of a man of white blood; more especially if he
spoke the language of the island, which was then
first sending out its swarms, to subdue and possess
so large a portion of a continent that nearly divides
the earth in moieties.

-- 036 --

CHAPTER III.

[figure description] Page 036.[end figure description]

“This is most strange: your father's in some passion
That works him strongly.”

Tempest.

A FEW hours made a great change in the occupations
of the different members of our simple and
secluded family. The kine had yielded their nightly
tribute; the oxen had been released from the yoke,
and were now secure beneath their sheds; the sheep
were in their folds, safe from the assaults of the
prowling wolf; and care had been taken to see that
every thing possessing life was gathered within the
particular defences that were provided for its security
and comfort. But while all this caution was
used in behalf of living things, the utmost indifference
prevailed on the subject of that species of
movable property, which, elsewhere, would have
been guarded with, at least, an equal jealousy.
The homely fabrics of the looms of Ruth lay on
their bleaching-ground, to drink in the night-dew;
and plows, harrows, carts, saddles, and other similar
articles, were left in situations so exposed, as to
prove that the hand of man had occupations so
numerous and so urgent, as to render it inconvenient
to bestow labor where it was not considered absolutely
necessary.

Content himself was the last to quit the fields and
the out-buildings. When he reached the postern in
the palisadoes, he stopped to call to those above
him, in order to learn if any yet lingered without
the wooden barriers. The answer being in the
negative, he entered, and drawing-to the small but
heavy gate, he secured it with bar, bolt, and lock,
carefully and jealously, with his own hand. As this
was no more than a nightly and necessary

-- 037 --

[figure description] Page 037.[end figure description]

precaution, the affairs of the family received no interruption.
The meal of the hour was soon ended; and
conversation, with those light toils which are peculiar
to the long evenings of the fall and winter
in families on the frontier, succeeded as fitting employments
to close the business of a laborious and
well-spent day.

Notwithstanding the entire simplicity which
marked the opinions and usages of the colonists at
that period, and the great equality of condition
which even to this hour distinguishes the particular
community of which we write, choice and inclination
drew some natural distinctions in the ordinary
intercourse of the inmates of the Heathcote family.
A fire so bright and cheerful blazed on an enormous
hearth in a sort of upper kitchen, as to render
candles or torches unnecessary. Around it were
seated six or seven hardy and athletic young men,
some drawing coarse tools carefully through the
curvatures of ox-bows, others scraping down the
helves of axes, or perhaps fashioning sticks of birch
into homely but convenient brooms. A demure,
side-looking young woman kept her great wheel
in motion; while one or two others were passing
from room to room, with the notable and stirring
industry of handmaidens, busied in the more familiar
cares of the household. A door communicated with
an inner and superior apartment. Here was a
smaller but an equally cheerful fire, a floor which
had recently been swept, while that without had
been freshly sprinkled with river sand; candles
of tallow, on a table of cherry-wood from the
neighboring forest; walls that were wainscoted in
the black oak of the country, and a few other
articles, of a fashion so antique, and of ornaments
so ingenious and rich, as to announce that they had
been transported from beyond sea. Above the
mantel were suspended the armorial bearings of

-- 038 --

[figure description] Page 038.[end figure description]

the Heathcotes and the Hardings, elaborately emblazoned
in tent-stitch.

The principal personages of the family were seated
around the latter hearth, while a straggler from
the other room, of more than usual curiosity, had
placed himself among them, marking the distinction
in ranks, or rather in situation, merely by the extraordinary
care which he took that none of the
scrapings should litter the spotless oaken floor.

Until this period of the evening, the duties of
hospitality and the observances of religion had prevented
familiar discourse. But the offices of the
housewife were now ended for the night, the hand-maidens
had all retired to their wheels, and, as the
bustle of a busy and more stirring domestic industry
ceased, the cold and self-restrained silence
which had hitherto only been broken by distant
and brief observations of courtesy, or by some
wholesome allusion to the lost and probationary
condition of man, seemed to invite an intercourse
of a more general character.

“You entered my clearing by the southern path,”
commenced Mark Heathcote, addressing himself to
his guest with sufficient courtesy, “and needs must
bring tidings from the towns on the river side. Has
aught been done by our councillors, at home, in the
matter that pertaineth so closely to the well-being
of this colony?”

“You would have me say whether he that now
sitteth on the throne of England, hath listened to
the petitions of his people in this province, and hath
granted them protection against the abuses which
might so readily flow out of his own ill-advised will,
or out of the violence and injustice of his successors?”

“We will render unto Cæsar the things that are
Cæsar's; and speak reverently of men having authority.
I would fain know whether the agent sent
by our people hath gained the ears of those who

-- 039 --

[figure description] Page 039.[end figure description]

counsel the prince, and obtained that which he
sought?”

“He hath done more,” returned the stranger,
with singular asperity; “he hath even gained the
ear of the Lord's Anointed.”

“Then is Charles of better mind, and of stronger
justice, than report hath spoken. We were told that
light manners and unprofitable companions had led
him to think more of the vanities of the world, and
less of the wants of those over whom he hath been
called by Providence to rule, than is meet for one
that sitteth on a high place. I rejoice that the arguments
of the man we sent have prevailed over
more evil promptings, and that peace and freedom
of conscience are likely to be the fruits of the
undertaking. In what manner hath he seen fit to
order the future government of this people?”

“Much as it hath ever stood; by their own ordinances.
Winthrop hath returned, and is the bearer
of a Royal Charter, which granteth all the rights
long claimed and practised. None now dwell under
the Crown of Britain with fewer offensive demands
on their consciences, or with lighter calls on their
political duties, than the men of Connecticut.”

“It is fitting that thanks should be rendered
therefor, where thanks are most due,” said the
Puritan, folding his hands on his bosom, and sitting
for a moment with closed eyes, like one who communed
with an unseen being. “Is it known by what
manner of argument the Lord moved the heart of
the Prince to hearken to our wants; or was it an
open and manifest token of his power?”

“I think it must needs have been the latter,”
rejoined the visiter, with a manner that grew still
more caustic and emphatic. “The bauble, that was
the visible agent, could not have weighed greatly
with one so proudly seated before the eyes of men.”

Until this point in the discourse, Content and

-- 040 --

[figure description] Page 040.[end figure description]

Ruth, with their offspring, and the two or three other
individuals who composed the audience, had listened
with the demure gravity which characterized the
manners of the country. The language, united with
the ill-concealed sarcasm conveyed by the countenance,
no less than the emphasis, of the speaker,
caused them now to raise their eyes, as by a common
impulse. The word “bauble” was audibly and
curiously repeated. But the look of cold irony had
already passed from the features of the stranger,
and it had given place to a stern and fixed austerity,
that imparted a character of grimness to his hard
and sun-burnt visage. Still he betrayed no disposition
to shrink from the subject, but, after regarding
his auditors with a glance in which pride and suspicion
were strongly blended, he resumed the discourse.

“It is known,” he added, “that the grandfather
of him the good people of these settlements have
commissioned to bear their wants over sea, lived in
the favor of the man who last sat upon the throne
of England; and a rumor goeth forth, that the Stuart,
in a moment of princely condescension, once decked
the finger of his subject, with a ring wrought in a
curious fashion. It was a token of the love which a
monarch may bear a man.”

“Such gifts are beacons of friendship, but may
not be used as gay and sinful ornaments,” observed
Mark, while the other paused like one who wished
none of the bitterness of his allusions to be lost.

“It matters not whether the bauble lay in the
coffers of the Winthrops, or has long been glittering
before the eyes of the faithful, in the Bay, since it
hath finally proved to be a jewel of price,” continued
the stranger. “It is said, in secret, that this
ring hath returned to the finger of a Stuart, and it is
openly proclaimed that Connecticut hath a Charter!”

Content and his wife regarded each other in melancholy
amazement. Such an evidence of wanton

-- 041 --

[figure description] Page 041.[end figure description]

levity and of unworthiness of motive, in one who
was intrusted with the gift of earthly government,
pained their simple and upright minds; while old
Mark, of still more decided and exaggerated ideas
of spiritual perfection, distinctly groaned aloud.
The stranger took a sensible pleasure in this testimony
of their abhorrence of so gross and so unworthy
a venality, though he saw no occasion to heighten
its effect by further speech. When his host stood
erect, and, in a voice that was accustomed to obedience,
he called on his family to join, in behalf of
the reckless ruler of the land of their fathers, in a
petition to him who alone could soften the hearts
of Princes, he also arose from his seat. But even
in this act of devotion, the stranger bore the air
of one who wished to do pleasure to his entertainers,
rather than to obtain that which was asked.

The prayer, though short, was pointed, fervent,
and sufficiently personal. The wheels in the outer
room ceased their hum, and a general movement
denoted that all there had arisen to join in the office;
while one or two of their number, impelled by deeper
piety or stronger interest, drew near to the open
door between the rooms, in order to listen. With
this singular but characteristic interruption, that
particular branch of the discourse, which had given
rise to it, altogether ceased.

“And have we reason to dread a rising of the
savages on the borders?” asked Content, when he
found that the moved spirit of his father was not
yet sufficiently calmed, to return to the examination
of temporal things; “one who brought wares from
the towns below, a few months since, recited reasons
to fear a movement among the red men.”

The subject had not sufficient interest to open
the ears of the stranger. He was deaf, or he chose
to affect deafness, to the interrogatory. Laying his
two large and weather-worn, though still muscular

-- 042 --

[figure description] Page 042.[end figure description]

hands, on a visage that was much darkened by exposure,
he appeared to shut out the objects of the
world, while he communed deeply, and, as would
seem by a slight tremor, that shook even his powerful
frame, terribly, with his own thoughts.

“We have many to whom our hearts strongly
cling, to heighten the smallest symptom of alarm
from that quarter,” added the tender and anxious
mother, her eye glancing at the uplifted countenances
of two little girls, who, busied with their light
needle-work, sate on stools at her feet. “But I rejoice
to see, that one who hath journeyed from parts
where the minds of the savages must be better understood,
hath not feared to do it unarmed.”

The traveller slowly uncovered his features, and
the glance that his eye shot over the face of the
last speaker, was not without a gentle and interested
expression. Instantly recovering his composure, he
arose, and, turning to the double leathern sack,
which had been borne on the crupper of his nag,
and which now lay at no great distance from his
seat, he drew a pair of horseman's pistols from two
well-contrived pockets in its sides, and laid them deliberately
on the table.

“Though little disposed to seek an encounter
with any bearing the image of man,” he said, “I
have not neglected the usual precautions of those
who enter the wilderness. Here are weapons that,
in steady hands, might easily take life, or, at need,
preserve it.”

The young Mark drew near with boyish curiosity,
and while one finger ventured to touch a lock, as
he stole a conscious glance of wrong-doing towards
his mother, he said, with as much of contempt in
his air, as the schooling of his manners would allow—

“An Indian arrow would make a surer aim, than
a bore as short as this! When the trainer from the

-- 043 --

[figure description] Page 043.[end figure description]

Hartford town, struck the wild-cat on the hill clearing,
he sent the bullet from a five-foot barrel; besides,
this short-sighted gun would be a dull weapon
in a hug against the keen-edged knife, that the
wicked Wampanoag is known to carry.”—

“Boy, thy years are few, and thy boldness of
speech marvellous,” sternly interrupted his parent
in the second degree.

The stranger manifested no displeasure at the
confident language of the lad. Encouraging him
with a look, which plainly proclaimed that martial
qualities in no degree lessened the stripling in his
favor, he observed that—

“The youth who is not afraid to think of the
fight, or to reason on its chances, will lead to a man-hood
of spirit and independence. A hundred thousand
striplings like this, might have spared Winthrop
his jewel, and the Stuart the shame of yielding to
so vain and so trivial a bribe. But thou mayst also
see, child, that had we come to the death-hug, the
wicked Wampanoag might have found a blade as
keen as his own.”

The stranger, while speaking, loosened a few
strings of his doublet, and thrust a hand into his
bosom. The action enabled more than one eye to
catch a momentary glimpse of a weapon of the
same description, but of a size much smaller than
those he had already so freely exhibited. As he
immediately withdrew the member, and again
closed the garment with studied care, no one presumed
to advert to the circumstance, but all turned
their attention to the long sharp hunting-knife that
he deposited by the side of the pistols, as he concluded.
Mark ventured to open its blade, but he
turned away with sudden consciousness, when he
found that a few fibres of coarse, shaggy wool, that
were drawn from the loosened joint, adhered to his
fingers.

-- 044 --

[figure description] Page 044.[end figure description]

“Straight-Horns has been against a bush sharper
than the thorn!” exclaimed Whittal Ring, who had
been at hand, and who watched with childish admiration
the smallest proceedings of the different
individuals. “A steel for the back of the blade, a
few dried leaves and broken sticks, with such a
carver, would soon make roast and broiled of the
old bell-wether himself. I know that the hair of all
my colts is sorrel, and I counted five at sum-down,
which is just as many as went loping through the
underbrush when I loosened them from the hopples
in the morning; but six-and-thirty backs can never
carry seven-and-thirty growing fleeces of unsheared
wool. Master knows that, for he is a scholar and
can count a hundred!”

The allusion to the fate of the lost sheep was so
plain, as to admit of no misinterpretation of the
meaning of the witless speaker. Animals of that
class were of the last importance to the comfort of
the settlers, and there was not probably one within
hearing of Whittal Ring, that was at all ignorant
of the import of his words. Indeed, the loud chuckle
and the open and deriding manner with which the
lad himself held above his head the hairy fibres
that he had snatched from young Mark, allowed of
no concealment, had it been desirable.

“This feeble-gifted youth would hint, that thy
knife hath proved its edge on a wether that is missing
from our flock, since the animals went on their
mountain range, in the morning,” said the host,
calmly; though even he bent his eye to the floor,
as he waited for an answer to a remark, direct as
the one his sense of justice, and his indomitable love
of right, had prompted.

The stranger demanded, in a voice that lost none
of its depth or firmness, “Is hunger a crime, that
they who dwell so far from the haunts of selfishness,
visit it with their anger?”

-- 045 --

[figure description] Page 045.[end figure description]

“The foot of Christian man never approached the
gates of Wish-Ton-Wish to be turned away in uncharitableness,
but that which is freely given should
not be taken in licentiousness. From off the hill
where my flock is wont to graze, it is easy, through
many an opening of the forest, to see these roofs;
and it would have been better that the body should
languish, than that a grievous sin should be placed
on that immortal spirit which is already too deeply
laden, unless thou art far more happy than others
of the fallen race of Adam.”

“Mark Heathcote,” said the accused, and ever
with an unwavering tone, “look further at those
weapons, which, if a guilty man, I have weakly
placed within thy power. Thou wilt find more
there to wonder at, than a few straggling hairs,
that the spinner would cast from her as too coarse
for service.”

“It is long since I found pleasure in handling the
weapons of strife; may it be longer to the time
when they shall be needed in this abode of peace.
These are instruments of death, resembling those
used in my youth, by cavaliers that rode in the levies
of the first Charles, and of his pusillanimous father.
There were worldly pride and great vanity, with
much and damning ungodliness, in the wars that I
have seen, my children; and yet the carnal man found
pleasure in the stirrings of those graceless days! Come
hither, younker; thou hast often sought to know the
manner in which the horsemen are wont to lead into
the combat, when the broad-mouthed artillery and
pattering leaden hail have cleared a passage for the
struggle of horse to horse, and man to man. Much
of the justification of these combats must depend on
the inward spirit, and on the temper of him that
striketh at the life of fellow-sinner; but righteous
Joshua, it is known, contended with the heathen
throughout a supernatural day; and therefore,

-- 046 --

[figure description] Page 046.[end figure description]

always humbly confiding that our cause is just, I will
open to thy young mind the uses of a weapon that
hath never before been seen in these forests.”

“I have hefted many a heavier piece than this,”
said young Mark, frowning equally with the exertion
and with the instigations of his aspiring spirit,
as he held out the ponderous weapon in a single
hand; “we have guns that might tame a wolf with
greater certainty than any barrel of a bore less
than my own height. Tell, me grand'ther; at what
distance do the mounted warriors, you so often name,
take their sight?”

But the power of speech appeared suddenly to
have deserted the aged veteran. He had interrupted
his own discourse, and now, instead of answering
the interrogatory of the boy, his eye wandered
slowly and with a look of painful doubt from the
weapon, that he still held before him, to the countenance
of the stranger. The latter continued erect,
like one courting a strict and meaning examination
of his person. This dumb-show could not fail to attract
the observation of Content. Rising from his
seat, with that quiet but authoritative manner
which is still seen in the domestic government of
the people of the region where he dwelt, he beckoned
to all present to quit the apartment. Ruth
and her daughters, the hirelings, the ill-gifted Whittal,
and even the reluctant Mark, preceded him to
the door, which he closed with respectful care; and
then the whole of the wondering party mingled
with those of the outer room, leaving the one they
had quitted to the sole possession of the aged chief
of the settlement, and to his still unknown and mysterious
guest.

Many anxious, and to those who were excluded,
seemingly interminable minutes passed, and the
secret interview appeared to draw no nearer its
close. That deep reverence, which the years,

-- 047 --

[figure description] Page 047.[end figure description]

paternity, and character of the grandfather had inspired,
prevented all from approaching the quarter
of the apartment nearest to the room they had
left; but a silence, still as the grave, did all that
silence could do, to enlighten their minds in a matter
of so much general interest. The deep, smothered
sentences of the speakers were often heard, each
dwelling with steadiness and propriety on his particular
theme, but no sound that conveyed meaning
to the minds of those without passed the envious
walls. At length, the voice of old Mark became
more than usually audible; and then Content arose,
with a gesture to those around him to imitate his
example. The young men threw aside the subjects
of their light employments, the maidens left the
wheels which had not been turned for many minutes,
and the whole party disposed themselves in the decent
and simple attitude of prayer. For the third
time that evening was the voice of the Puritan
heard, pouring out his spirit in a communion with
that being on whom it was his practice to repose
all his worldly cares. But, though long accustomed
to all the peculiar forms of utterance by which
their father ordinarily expressed his pious emotions,
neither Content nor his attentive partner was enabled
to decide on the nature of the feeling that
was now uppermost. At times, it appeared to be
the language of thanksgiving, and at others it assumed
more of the imploring sounds of deprecation
and petition; in short, it was so varied, and, though
tranquil, so equivocal, if such a term may be applied
to so serious a subject, as completely to baffle every
conjecture.

Long and weary minutes passed after the voice
had entirely ceased, and yet no summons was given
to the expecting family, nor did any sound proceed
from the inner room, which the respectful son was
emboldened to construe into an evidence that he

-- 048 --

[figure description] Page 048.[end figure description]

might presume to enter. At length, apprehension
began to mingle with conjectures, and then the husband
and wife communed apart, in whispers. The
misgivings and doubt of the former soon manifested
themselves in still more apparent forms. He
arose, and was seen pacing the wide apartment,
gradualy approaching nearer to the partition which
separated the two rooms, evidently prepared to retire
beyond the limits of hearing, the moment he
should detect any proofs that his uneasiness was
without a sufficient cause. Still no sound proceeded
from the inner room. The breathless silence
which had so shortly before reigned where he was,
appeared to be suddenly transferred to the spot in
which he was vainly endeavoring to detect the
smallest proof of human existence. Again he returned
to Ruth, and again they consulted, in low
voices, as to the step that filial duty seemed to require
at their hands.

“We were not bidden to withdraw,” said his gentle
companion; “why not rejoin our parent, now
that time has been given to understand the subject
which so evidently disturbed his mind?”

Content, at length, yielded to this opinion. With
that cautions discretion which distinguishes his people,
he motioned to the family to follow, in order
that no unnecessary exclusion should give rise to
conjectures, or excite suspicions, for which, after all,
the circumstances might prove no justification. Notwithstanding
the subdued manners of the age and
country, curiosity, and perhaps a better feeling, had
become so intense, as to cause all present to obey
this silent mandate, by moving as swiftly towards
the open door as a never-yielding decency of demeanor
would permit.

Old Mark Heathcote occupied the chair in which
he had been left, with that calm and unbending
gravity of eye and features which were then

-- 049 --

[figure description] Page 049.[end figure description]

thought indispensable to a fitting sobriety of spirit.
But the stranger had disappeared. There were two
or three outlets by which the room, and even the
house, might be quitted, without the knowledge of
those who had so long waited for admission; and
the first impression led the family to expect the reappearance
of the absent man through one of these
exterior passages. Content, however, read in the
expression of his father's eye, that the moment of
confidence, if it were ever to arrive, had not yet
come; and, so admirable and perfect was the domestic
discipline of this family, that the questions
which the son did not see fit to propound, no one of
inferior condition, or lesser age, might presume to
agitate. With the person of the stranger, every
evidence of his recent visit had also vanished.

Mark missed the weapon that had excited his admiration;
Whittal looked in vain for the hunting-knife,
which had betrayed the fate of the wether;
Mrs. Heathcote saw, by a hasty glance of the eye,
that the leathern sacks, which she had borne in mind
ought to be transferred to the sleeping apartment of
their guest, were gone; and a mild and playful image
of herself, who bore her name no less than most
of those features which had rendered her own youth
more than usually attractive, sought, without success,
a massive silver spur, of curious and antique
workmanship, which she had been permitted to
handle until the moment when the family had been
commanded to withdraw.

The night had now worn later than the hour at
which it was usual for people of habits so simple
to be out of their beds. The grandfather lighted a
taper, and, after bestowing the usual blessing on
those around him, with an air as calm as if nothing
had occurred, he prepared to retire into his own
room. And yet, matter of interest seemed to linger
on his mind. Even on the threshold of the door, he

-- 050 --

[figure description] Page 050.[end figure description]

turned, and, for an instant, all expected some explanation
of a circumstance which began to wear no
little of the aspect of an exciting and painful
mystery. But their hopes were raised only to be
disappointed.

“My thoughts have not kept the passage of the
time,” he said. “In what hour of the night are we,
my son?”

He was told that it was already past the usual
moment of sleep.

“No matter; that which Providence hath bestowed
for our comfort and support, should not be
lightly and unthankfully disregarded. Take thou
the beast I am wont to ride, thyself, Content, and
follow the path which leadeth to the mountain
clearing; bring away that which shall meet thine
eye, near the first turning of the route toward the
river towns. We have got into the last quarter of
the year, and in order that our industry may not
flag, and that all may be stirring with the sun, let
the remainder of the household seek their rest.”

Content saw, by the manner of his father, that no
departure from the strict letter of these instructions
was admissible. He closed the door after his retiring
form, and then, by a quiet gesture of authority,
indicated to his dependants that they were expected
to withdraw. The maidens of Ruth led the children
to their chambers, and in a few more minutes, none
remained in the outer apartment, already so often
named, but the obedient son, with his anxious and
affectionate consort.

“I will be thy companion, husband,” Ruth half-whisperingly
commenced, so soon as the little
domestic preparations for leaving the fires and
securing the doors were ended. “I like not that
thou shouldst go into the forest alone, at so late an
hour of the night.”

“One will be with me, there, who never deserteth

-- 051 --

[figure description] Page 051.[end figure description]

those who rely on his protection. Besides, my Ruth,
what is there to apprehend in a wilderness like this?
The beasts have been lately hunted from the hills,
and, excepting those who dwell under our own roof,
there is not one within a long day's ride.”

“We know not! Where is the stranger that
came within our doors as the sun was setting?”

“As thou sayest, we know not. My father is not
minded to open his lips on the subject of this
traveller, and surely we are not now to learn the
lessors of obedience and self-denial.”

“It would, notwithstanding, be a great easing to
the spirit to hear at least the name of him who
hath eaten of our bread, and joined in our family
worship, though he were immediately to pass away
for ever from before the sight.”

“That may he have done, already!” returned
the less curious and more self-restrained husband.
“My father will not that we inquire.”

“And yet there can be little sin in knowing the
condition of one whose fortunes and movements
can excite neither our envy nor our strife. I would
that we had tarried for a closer mingling in the
prayers; it was not seemly to desert a guest who,
it would appear, had need of an especial up-offering
in his behalf.”

“Our spirits joined in the asking, though our
ears were shut to the matter of his wants. But it
will be needful that I should be afoot with the
young men, in the morning, and a mile of measurement
would not reach to the turning, in the path
to the river towns. Go with me to the postern, and
look to the fastenings; I will not keep thee long on
thy watch.”

Content and his wife now quitted the dwelling,
by the only door that was left unbarred. Lighted
by a moon that was full, though clouded, they
passed a gateway between two of the outer

-- 052 --

[figure description] Page 052.[end figure description]

buildings, and descended to the palisadoes. The bars
and bolts of the little postern were removed, and
in a few minutes, the former, mounted on the back
of his father's own horse, was galloping briskly
along the path which led into the part of the forest
he was directed to seek.

While the husband was thus proceeding, in
obedience to orders that he never hesitated to obey,
his faithful wife withdrew within the shelter of the
wooden defences. More in compliance with a precaution
that was become habitual, than from any
present causes of suspicion, she drew a single bolt
and remained at the postern, anxiously awaiting
the result of a movement that was as unaccountable
as it was extraordinary.

CHAPTER IV.

“I' the name of something holy, sir, why stand you
In this strange stare?”

Tempest.

As a girl, Ruth Harding had been one of the
mildest and gentlest of the human race. Though
new impulses had been given to her naturally kind
affections by the attachments of a wife and mother,
her disposition suffered no change by marriage.
Obedient, disinterested, and devoted to those she
loved, as her parents had known her, so, by the
experience of many years, had she proved to
Content. In the midst of the utmost equanimity of
temper and of deportment, her watchful solicitude
in behalf of the few who formed the limited circle
of her existence, never slumbered. It dwelt unpretendingly
but active in her gentle bosom, like a
great and moving principle of life. Though

-- 053 --

[figure description] Page 053.[end figure description]

circumstances had placed her on a remote and exposed
frontier, where time had not been given for the
several customary divisions of employments, she
was unchanged in habits, in feelings, and in character.
The affluence of her husband had elevated
her above the necessity of burthensome toil; and,
while she had encountered the dangers of the
wilderness, and neglected none of the duties of her
active station, she had escaped most of those injurious
consequences which are a little apt to
impair the peculiar loveliness of woman. Notwithstanding
the exposure of a border life, she remained
feminine, attractive, and singularly youthful.

The reader will readily imagine the state of
mind, with which such a being watched the distant
form of a husband, engaged in a duty like that we
have described. Notwithstanding the influence of
long habit, the forest was rarely approached, after
night-fall, by the boldest woodsman, without some
secret consciousness that he encountered a positive
danger. It was the hour when its roaming and
hungry tenants were known to be most in motion;
and the rustling of a leaf, or the snapping of a dried
twig beneath the light tread of the smallest animal,
was apt to conjure images of the voracious and
fire-eyed panther, or perhaps of a lurking biped,
which, though more artful, was known to be scarcely
less savage. It is true, that hundreds experienced
the uneasiness of such sensations, who were never
fated to undergo the realities of the fearful pictures.
Still, facts were not wanting to supply sufficient
motive for a grave and reasonable apprehension.

Histories of combats with beasts of prey, and of
massacres by roving and lawless Indians, were the
moving legends of the border. Thrones might be
subverted, and kingdoms lost and won, in distant
Europe, and less should be said of the events, by

-- 054 --

[figure description] Page 054.[end figure description]

those who dwelt in these woods, than of one scene
of peculiar and striking forest incident, that called
for the exercise of the stout courage and the keen
intelligence of a settler. Such a tale passed from
mouth to mouth, with the eagerness of powerful
personal interest, and many were already transmitted
from parent to child, in the form of tradition,
until, as in more artificial communities, graver
improbabilities creep into the doubtful pages of
history, exaggeration became too closely blended
with truth, ever again to be separated.

Under the influence of these feelings, and perhaps
prompted by his never-failing discretion, Content
had thrown a well-tried piece over his shoulder;
and when he rose the ascent on which his
father had met the stranger, Ruth caught a glimpse
of his form, bending on the neck of his horse, and
gliding through the mistry light of the hour, resembling
one of those fancied images of wayward
and hard-riding sprites, of which the tales of the
eastern continent are so fond of speaking.

Then followed anxious moments, during which
neither sight nor hearing could in the least aid the
conjectures of the attentive wife. She listened
without breathing, and once or twice she thought
the blows of hoofs, falling on the earth harder and
quicker than common, might be distinguished; but
it was only as Content mounted the sudden ascent
of the hill-side, that he was again seen, for a brief
instant, while dashing swiftly into the cover of the
woods.

Though Ruth had been familiar with the cares
of the frontier, perhaps she had never known a
moment more intensely painful than that, when the
form of her husband became blended with the dark
trunks of the trees. The time was to her impatience
longer than usual, and under the excitement
of a feverish inquietude, that had no definite

-- 055 --

[figure description] Page 055.[end figure description]

object, she removed the single bolt that held the postern
closed, and passed entirely without the stockade.
To her oppressed senses, the palisadoes appeared
to place limits to her vision. Still, weary minute
passed after minute, without bringing relief. During
these anxious moments, she became more than usually
conscious of the insulated situation in which
he and all who were dearest to her heart were
placed. The feelings of a wife prevailed. Quitting
the side of the acclivity, she began to walk slowly
along the path her husband had taken, until apprehension
insensibly urged her into a quicker movement.
She had paused only when she stood nearly
in the centre of the clearing, on the eminence
where her father had halted that evening to contemplate
the growing improvement of his estate.

Here her steps were suddenly arrested, for she
thought a form was issuing from the forest, at that
interesting spot which her eyes had never ceased
to watch. It proved to be no more than the passing
shadow of a cloud denser than common, which
threw the body of its darkness on the trees, and a
portion of its outline on the ground near the margin
of the wood. Just at this instant, the recollection
that she had incautiously left the postern open
flashed upon her mind, and, with feelings divided
between husband and children, she commenced her
return, in order to repair a neglect, to which habit,
no less than prudence, imparted a high degree of
culpability. The eyes of the mother, for the feelings
of that sacred character were now powerfully
uppermost, were fastened on the ground, as she
eagerly picked her way along the uneven surface;
and, so engrossed was her mind by the omission of
duty with which she was severely reproaching herself,
that they drank in objects without conveying
distinct or intelligible images to her brain.

Notwithstanding the one engrossing thought of

-- 056 --

[figure description] Page 056.[end figure description]

the moment, something met her eye that caused
even the vacant organ to recoil, and every fibre in
her frame to tremble with terror. There was a
moment in which delirium nearly heightened terror
to madness. Reflection came only when Ruth had
reached the distance of many feet from the spot
where this startling object had half-unconsciously
crossed her vision. Then for a single and a fearful
instant she paused, like one who debated on the
course she ought to follow. Maternal love prevailed,
and the deer of her own woods scarcely bounds
with greater agility, than the mother of the sleeping
and defenceless family now fled towards the
dwellings. Panting and breathless she gained the
postern, which was closed, with hands that performed
their office more by instinct than in obedience
to thought, and doubly and trebly barred.

For the first time in some minutes, Ruth now
breathed distinctly and without pain. She strove
to rally her thoughts, in order to deliberate on the
course that prudence and her duty to Content, who
was still exposed to the danger she had herself escaped,
prescribed. Her first impulse was to give
the established signal that was to recall the laborers
from the field, or to awake the sleepers, in the
event of an alarm; but better reflection told her
that such a step might prove fatal to him who balanced
in her affections against the rest of the world.
The struggle in her mind only ended, as she clearly
and unequivocally caught a view of her husband,
issuing from the forest, at the very point where he
had entered. The return path unfortunately led
directly past the spot where such sudden terror had
seized her mind. She would have given worlds to
have known how to apprize him of a danger with
which her own imagination was full, without communicating
the warning to other and terrible ears.
The night was still, and though the distance was

-- 057 --

[figure description] Page 057.[end figure description]

considerable, it was not so great as to render the
chances of success desperate. Scarcely knowing
what she did, and yet preserving, by a sort of instinctive
prudence, the caution which constant exposure
weaves into all our habits, the trembling
woman made the effort.

“Husband! husband!” she cried, commencing
plaintively, but her voice rising with the energy of
excitement. “Husband, ride swiftly; our little Ruth
lyeth in the agony. For her life and thine, ride at
thy horse's speed. Seek not the stables, but come
with all haste to the postern; it shall be open to
thee.”

This was certainly a fearful summons for a father's
ear, and there is little doubt that, had the
feeble powers of Ruth succeeded in conveying the
words as far as she had wished, they would have
produced the desired effect. But in vain did she
call; her weak tones, though raised on the notes of
the keenest apprehension, could not force their way
across so wide a space. And yet, had she reason to
think they were not entirely lost, for once her husband
paused and seemed to listen, and once he
quickened the pace of his horse; though neither of
these proofs of intelligence was followed by any
further signs of his having understood the alarm.

Content was now upon the hillock itself. If Ruth
breathed at all during its passage, it was more imperceptibly
than the gentlest respiration of the
sleeping infant. But when she saw him trotting
with unconscious security along the path on the
side next the dwellings, her impatience broke
through all restraint, and throwing open the postern,
she renewed her cries, in a voice that was no
longer useless. The clattering of the unshodden
hoof was again rapid, and in another minute her
husband galloped unharmed to her side.

“Enter!” said the nearly dizzy wife, seizing the

-- 058 --

[figure description] Page 058.[end figure description]

bridle and leading the horse within the palisadoes.
“Enter, husband, for the love of all that is thine;
enter, and be thankful.”

“What meaneth this terror, Ruth?” demanded
Content, in as much displeasure, perhaps, as he
could manifest to one so gentle, for a weakness betrayed
in his own behalf; “is thy confidence in him
whose eye never closeth, and who equally watcheth
the life of man and that of the falling sparrow,
lost?”

Ruth was deaf. With hurried hands she drew
the fastenings, let fall the bars, and turned a key
which forced a triple-bolted lock to perform its
office. Not till then did she feel either safe herself,
or at liberty to render thanks for the safety of him,
over whose danger she had so lately watched, in
agony.

“Why this care? Hast forgotten that the horse
will suffer hunger, at this distance from the rack
and manger?”

“Better that he starve, than hair of thine should
come to harm.”

“Nay, nay, Ruth; dost not remember that the
beast is the favorite of my father, who will ill brook
his passing a night within the palisadoes?”

“Husband, you err; there is one in the fields!”

“Is there place, where one is not?”

“But I have seen creature of mortal birth, and
creature too that hath no claim on thee, or thine,
and who trespasseth on our peace, no less than on
our natural rights, to be where he lurketh.”

“Go to; thou art not used to be so late from thy
pillow, my poor Ruth; sleep hath come over thee,
whilst standing on thy watch. Some cloud hath left
its shadow on the fields, or, truly, it may be that
the hunt did not drive the beasts as far from the
clearing as we had thought. Come; since thou wilt

-- 059 --

[figure description] Page 059.[end figure description]

cling to my side, lay hand on the bridle of the horse,
while I ease him of his burthen.”

As Content coolly proceeded to the task he had
mentioned, the thoughts of his wife were momentarily
diverted from their other sources of uneasiness,
by the object which lay on the crupper of the nag,
and which, until now, had entirely escaped her
observation.

“Here is, indeed, the animal this day missing from
our flock!” she exclaimed, as the carcass of a sheep
fell heavily on the ground.

“Ay; and killed with exceeding judgment, if not
aptly dressed to our hands. Mutton will not be
wanting for the husking-feast, and the stalled creature
whose days were counted may live another
season.”

“And where didst find the slaughtered beast?”

“On the limb of a growing hickory. Eben Dudley,
with all his sleight in butchering, and in setting forth
the excellence of his meats, could not have left an
animal hanging from the branch of a sapling, with
greater knowledge of his craft. Thou seest, but a
single meal is missing from the carcass, and that
thy fleece is unharmed.”

“This is not the work of a Pequod!” exclaimed
Ruth, surprised at her own discovery; “the red
men do their mischief with less care.”

“Nor has the tooth of wolf opened the veins of
poor Straight-Horns. Here has been judgment in
the slaughtering, as well as prudence in consumption
of the food. The hand that cut so lightly, had
intention of a second visit.”

“And our father bid thee seek the creature
where it was found! Husband, I fear some heavy
judgment for the sins of the parents, is likely to
befall the children.”

“The babes are quietly in their slumbers, and,
thus far, little wrong hath been done us. I'll cast

-- 060 --

[figure description] Page 060.[end figure description]

the halter from the stalled animal ere I sleep, and
Straight-Horns shall content us for the husking.
We may have mutton less savory, for this evil
chance, but the number of thy flock will be un-altered.”

“And where is he, who hath mingled in our
prayers, and hath eaten of our bread; he who
counselled so long in secret with our father, and
who hath now vanished from among us, like a
vision?”

“That indeed is a question not readily to be
answered,” returned Content, who had hitherto
maintained a cheerful air, in order to appease what
he was fain to believe a causeless terror in the
bosom of his partner, but who was induced by this
question to drop his head like one that sought reasons
within the repository of his own thoughts. “It
mattereth not, Ruth Heathcote; the ordering of
the affair is in the hands of a man of many years
and great experience; should his aged wisdom fail,
do we not know that one even wiser than he, hath
us in his keeping? I will return the beast to his
rack, and when we shall have jointly asked favor
of eyes that never sleep, we will go in confidence
to our rest.”

“Husband, thou quittest not the palisadoes again
this night,” said Ruth, arresting the hand that had
already drawn a bolt, ere she spoke. “I have a
warning of evil.”

“I would the stranger had found some other
shelter in which to pass his short resting season.
That he hath made free with my flock, and that
he hath administered to his hunger at some cost,
when a single asking would have made him welcome
to the best that the owner of the Wish-Ton-Wish
can command, are truths that may not be denied.
Still is he mortal man, as a goodly appetite hath
proven, even should our belief in Providence so far

-- 061 --

[figure description] Page 061.[end figure description]

waver as to harbor doubts of its unwillingness to
suffer beings of injustice to wander in our forms
and substance. I tell thee, Ruth, that the nag will
be needed for to-morrow's service, and that our
father will give but ill thanks should we leave it to
make a bed on this cold hill-side. Go to thy rest
and to thy prayers, trembler; I will close the
postern with all care. Fear not; the stranger is of
human wants, and his agency to do evil must needs
be limited by human power.”

“I fear none of white blood, nor of Christian
parentage: the murderous heathen is in our fields.”

“Thou dreamest, Ruth!”

“'Tis not a dream. I have seen the glowing eye-balls
of a savage. Sleep was little like to come
over me, when set upon a watch like this. I thought
me that the errand was of unknown character,
and that our father was exceedingly aged, and that
perchance his senses might be duped, and how an
obedient son ought not to be exposed.—Thou knowest,
Heathcote, that I could not look upon the danger
of my children's father with indifference, and I
followed to the nut-tree hillock.”

“To the nut-tree! It was not prudent in thee—
but the postern?”

“It was open; for were the key turned, who
was there to admit us quickly, had haste been
needed?” returned Ruth, momentarily averting
her face to conceal the flush excited by conscious
delinquency. “Though I failed in caution, 'twas
for thy safety, Heathcote. But on that hillock, and
in the hollow left by a fallen tree, lies concealed a
heathen!”

“I passed the nut-wood in going to the shambles
of our strange butcher, and I drew the rein to
give breath to the nag near it, as we returned with
the burthen. It cannot be; some creature of the
forest hath alarmed thee.”

-- 062 --

[figure description] Page 062.[end figure description]

“Ay! creature, formed, fashioned, gifted like
ourselves, in all but color of the skin and blessing
of the faith.”

“This is strange delusion! If there were enemy
at hand, would men subtle as those you fear, suffer
the master of the dwelling, and truly I may say it
without vain-glory, one as likely as another to
struggle stoutly for his own, to escape, when an
ill-timed visit to the woods had delivered him unresisting
into their hands? Go, go, good Ruth; thou
mayst have seen a blackened log—perchance the
frosts have left a fire-fly untouched, or it may be
that some prowling bear has scented out the sweets
of thy lately-gathered hives.”

Ruth again laid her hand firmly on the arm of
her husband, who had withdrawn another bolt,
and, looking him steadily in the face, she answered
by saying solemnly, and with touching pathos—

“Think'st thou, husband, that a mother's eye
could be deceived?”

It might have been that the allusion to the tender
beings whose fate depended on his care, or that the
deeply serious, though mild and gentle manner of
his consort, produced some fresher impression on
the mind of Content. Instead of undoing the fastenings
of the postern as he had intended, he deliberately
drew its bolts again and paused to think.

“If it produce no other benefit than to quiet
thy fears, good Ruth,” he said, after a moment of
reflection, “a little caution will be well repaid.
Stay you, then, here, where the hillock may be
watched, while I go wake a couple of the people.
With stout Eben Dudley and experienced Reuben
Ring to back me, my father's horse may surely be
stabled.”

Ruth contentedly assumed a task that she was
quite equal to perform with intelligence and zeal.
“Hie thee to the laborers' chambers, for I see a

-- 063 --

[figure description] Page 063.[end figure description]

light still burning in the room of those you seek,”
was the answer she gave to a proposal that at least
quieted the intenseness of her fears for him in
whose behalf they had so lately been excited nearly
to agony.

“It shall be quickly done; nay, stand not thus
openly between the beams, wife. Thou mayst
place thyself, here, at the doublings of the wood,
beneath the loop, where harm would scarcely reach
thee, though shot from artillery were to crush the
timber.”

With this admonition to be wary of a danger that
he had so recently affected to despise, Content departed
on his errand. The two laborers he had mentioned
by name, were youths of mould and strength,
and they were well inured to toil, no less than to the
particular privations and dangers of a border life.
Like most men of their years and condition, they
were practised too in the wiles of Indian cunning;
and though the Province of Connecticut, compared
to other settlements, had suffered but little in this
species of murderous warfare, they both had martial
feats and perilous experiences of their own to
recount, during the light labors of the long winter
evenings.

Content crossed the court with a quick step; for,
notwithstanding his steady unbelief, the image of
his gentle wife posted on her outer watch hurried
his movements. The rap he gave at the door, on
reaching the apartment of those he sought, was loud
as it was sudden.

“Who calls?” demanded a deep-toned and firm
voice from within, at the first blow of the knuckles
on the plank.

“Quit thy beds quickly, and come forth with the
arms appointed for a sally.”

“That is soon done,” answered a stout woodsman,
throwing open the door and standing before Content

-- 064 --

[figure description] Page 064.[end figure description]

in the garments he had worn throughout the day.
“We were just dreaming that the night was not to
pass without a summons to the loops.”

“Hast seen aught?”

“Our eyes were not shut, more than those of
others; we saw him enter that no man hath seen
depart.”

“Come, fellow; Whittal Ring would scarce give
wiser speech than this cunning reply of thine. My
wife is at the postern, and it is fit we go to relieve
her watch. Thou wilt not forget the horns of powder,
since it would not tell to our credit, were there
service for the pieces, and we lacking in where-withal
to give them a second discharge.”

The hirelings obeyed, and, as little time was
necessary to arm those who never slept without
weapons and ammunition within reach of their
hands, Content was speedily followed by his dependants.
Ruth was found at her post, but when urged
by her husband to declare what had passed in his
absence, she was compelled to admit that, though
the moon had come forth brighter and clearer from
behind the clouds, she had seen nothing to add to
her alarm.

“We will then lead the beast to his stall, and close
our duty by setting a single watcher for the rest of
the night,” said the husband. “Reuben shall keep
the postern, while Eben and I will have a care for
my father's nag, not forgetting the carcass for the
husking-feast. Dost hear, deaf Dudley?—cast the
mutton upon the crupper of the beast, and follow to
the stables.”

“Here has been no common workman at my office,”
said the blunt Eben, who, though an ordinary
farm-laborer, according to an usage still very generally
prevalent in the country, was also skilful in the
craft of the butcher. “I have brought many a
wether to his end, but this is the first sheep, within

-- 065 --

[figure description] Page 065.[end figure description]

all my experience, that hath kept the fleece while
a portion of the body has been in the pot! Lie there,
poor Straight-Horns, if quiet thou canst lie after
such strange butchery. Reuben, I paid thee, as the
sun rose, a Spanish piece in silver, for the trifle of
debt that lay between us, in behalf of the good turn
thou didst the shoes, which were none the better for
the last hunt in the hills. Hast ever that pistareen
about thee?”

This question, which was put in a lowered tone,
and only to the ear of the party concerned, was answered
in the affirmative.

“Give it me, lad; in the morning, thou shalt be
paid, with usurer's interest.”

Another summons from Content, who had now led
the nag loaded with the carcass of the sheep without
the postern, cut short the secret conference.
Eben Dudley, having received the coin, hastened to
follow. But the distance to the out-buildings was
sufficient to enable him to effect his mysterious purpose
without discovery. Whilst Content endeavored
to calm the apprehensions of his wife, who still persisted
in sharing his danger, by such reasons as he
could on the instant command, the credulous Dudley
placed the thin piece of silver between his teeth,
and, with a pressure that denoted the prodigious
force of his jaws, caused it to assume a beaten and
rounded shape. He then slily dropped the battered
coin into the muzzle of his gun, taking care to secure
its presence, until he himself should send it on
its disenchanting message, by a wad torn from the
lining of part of his vestments. Supported by this
redoubtable auxiliary, the superstitious but still
courageous borderer followed his companion, whistling
a low air that equally denoted his indifference
to danger of an ordinary nature, and his sensibility
to impressions of a less earthly character.

They who dwell in the older districts of America,

-- 066 --

[figure description] Page 066.[end figure description]

where art and labor have united for generations to
clear the earth of its inequalities, and to remove
the vestiges of a state of nature, can form but little
idea of the thousand objects that may exist in a
clearing, to startle the imagination of one who has
admitted alarm, when seen in the doubtful light of
even a cloudless moon. Still less can they who have
never quitted the old world, and who, having only
seen, can only imagine fields smooth as the surface
of tranquil water, picture the effect produced by
those lingering remnants, which may be likened to
so many mouldering monuments of the fallen forest,
scattered at such an hour over a broad surface of
open land. Accustomed as they were to the sight,
Content and his partner, excited by their fears,
fancied each dark and distant stump a savage; and
they passed no angle in the high and heavy fences,
without throwing a jealous glance to see that some
enemy did not lie stretched within its shadows.

Still no new motive for apprehension arose, during
the brief period that the two adventurers were employed
in administering to the comfort of the Puritan's
steed. The task was ended, the carcass of the
slaughtered Straight-Horns had been secured, and
Ruth was already urging her husband to return,
when their attention was drawn to the attitude and
mien of their companion.

“The man hath departed as he came,” said Eben
Dudley, who stood shaking his head in open doubt,
before an empty stall; “here is no beast, though
with these eyes did I see the half-wit bring hither a
well-filled measure of speckled oats, to feed the nag.
He who favored us with his presence at the supper
and the thanksgiving, hath tired of his company before
the hour of rest had come.”

“The horse is truly wanting,” said Content: “the
man must needs be in exceeding haste, to have ridden
into the forest as the night grew deepest, and

-- 067 --

[figure description] Page 067.[end figure description]

when the longest summer day would scarce bring
a better hack than that he rode to another Christian
dwelling. There is reason for this industry, but
it is enough that it concerns us not. We will now
seek our rest, in the certainty that one watcheth
our slumbers whose vigilance can never fail.”

Though man could not trust himself to sleep in
that country without the security of bars and bolts,
we have already had occasion to say that property
was guarded with but little care. The stable-door
was merely closed by a wooden latch, and the party
returned from this short sortie, with steps that were
a little quickened by a sense of an uneasiness that
beset them in forms suited to their several characters.
But shelter was at hand, and it was speedily
regained.

“Thou hast seen nothing?” said Content to Reuben
Ring, who had been chosen for his quick eye,
and a sagacity that was as remarkable as was his
brother's impotency; “thou hast seen nothing at thy
watch?”

“Nought unusual; and yet I like not yonder billet
of wood, near to the fence against the knoll. If it
were not so plainly a half-burnt log, one might fancy
there is life in it. But when fancy is at work, the
sight is keen. Once or twice I have thought it seemed
to be rolling towards the brook; I am not, even
now, certain that when first seen it did not lie eight
or ten feet higher against the bank.”

“It may be a living thing!”

“On the faith of a woodman's eye, it well may
be,” said Eben Dudley; “but should it be haunted
by a legion of wicked spirits, one may bring it to
quiet from the loop at the nearest corner. Stand
aside, Madam Heathcote,” for the character and
wealth of the proprietors of the valley, gave Ruth
a claim to this term of respect among the laborers;
“let me thrust the piece through the—stop, there

-- 068 --

[figure description] Page 068.[end figure description]

is an especial charm in the gun, which it might be
sinful to waste on such a creature. It may be no
more than some sweet-toothed bear. I will answer
for the charge at my own cost, if thou wilt lend me
thy musket, Reuben Ring.”

“It shall not be,” said his master; “one known
to my father hath this night entered our dwelling
and fed at our board; if he hath departed in a way
but little wont among those of this Colony, yet hath
he done no great wrong. I will go nigh, and examine
with less risk of error.”

There was, in this proposal, too much of that
spirit of right-doing which governed all of those
simple regions, to meet serious opposition. Content,
supported by Eben Dudley, again quitted the postern,
and proceeded directly, though still not without
sufficient caution, towards the point where the
suspicious object lay. A bend in the fence had first
brought it into view, for previously to reaching that
point, its apparent direction might for some distance
have been taken under shelter of the shadows of
the rails, which, at the immediate spot where it was
seen, were turned suddenly in a line with the eyes
of the spectators. It seemed as if the movements
of those who approached were watched; for the
instant they left the defences, the dark object was
assuredly motionless; even the keen eye of Reuben
Ring beginning to doubt whether some deception
of vision had not led him, after all, to mistake a
billet of wood for a creature of life.

But Content and his companion were not induced
to change their determination. Even when within
fifty feet of the object, though the moon fell full
and brightly upon the surface, its character baffled
conjecture. One affirmed it was the end of a charred
log, many of which still lay scattered about the
fields, and the other believed it some cringing animal
of the woods. Twice Content raised his piece to

-- 069 --

[figure description] Page 069.[end figure description]

fire, and as often did he let it fall, in reluctance to
do injury to even a quadruped of whose character
he was ignorant. It is more than probable that his
less considerate, and but half-obedient companion
would have decided the question soon after leaving
the postern, had not the peculiar contents of his
musket rendered him delicate of its uses.

“Look to thy weapons,” said the former, loosening
his own hunting-knife in its sheath. “We will
draw near, and make certainty of what is doubtful.”

They did so, and the gun of Dudley was thrust
rudely into the side of the object of their distrust,
before it again betrayed life or motion. Then, indeed,
as if further disguise was useless, an Indian
lad, of some fifteen years, rose deliberately to his
feet, and stood before them in the sullen dignity
of a captured warrior. Content hastily seized the
stripling by an arm, and followed by Eben, who occasionally
quickened the footsteps of the prisoner
by an impetus obtained from the breech of his own
musket, they hurriedly returned within the defences.

“My life against that of Straight-Horns, which
is now of no great value,” said Dudley, as he pushed
the last bolt of the fastenings into its socket, “we
hear no more of this red skin's companions to-night.
I never knew an Indian raise his whoop, when a
scout had fallen into the hands of the enemy.”

“This may be true,” returned the other, “and
yet must a sleeping household be guarded. We
may be brought to rely on the overlooking favor of
Providence, working with the means of our own
manhood, ere the sun shall arise.”

Content was a man of few words, but one of exceeding
steadiness and resolution in moments of
need. He was perfectly aware that an Indian
youth, like him he had captured, would not have
been found in that place, and under the circumstances
in which he was actually taken, without a

-- 070 --

[figure description] Page 070.[end figure description]

design of sufficient magnitude to justify the hazard
The tender age of the stripling, too, forbade the
belief that he was unaccompanied. But he silently
agreed with his laboring man that the capture would
probably cause the attack, if any such were meditated,
to be deferred. He therefore instructed his
wife to withdraw into her chamber, while he took
measures to defend the dwelling in the last emergency.
Without giving any unnecessary alarm, a
measure that would have produced less effect on
an enemy without, than the imposing stillness which
now reigned within the defences, he ordered two
or three more of the stoutest of his dependants to
be summoned to the palisadoes. A keen scrutiny
was made into the state of all the different outlets
of the place; muskets were carefully examined;
charges were given to be watchful, and regular
sentinels were stationed within the shadows of the
buildings, at points where, unseen themselves, they
could look out in safety upon the fields.

Content then took his captive, with whom he had
made no attempt to exchange a syllable, and led
him to the block-house. The door which communicated
with the basement of this building was always
open, in readiness for refuge in the event of
any sudden alarm. He entered, caused the lad to
mount by a ladder to the floor above, and then
withdrawing the means of retreat, he turned the
key without, in perfect confidence that his prisoner
was secure.

Notwithstanding all this care, morning had nearly
dawned before the prudent father and husband
sought his pillow. His steadiness however had prevented
the apprehensions, which kept his own eyes
and those of his gentle partner so long open, from
extending beyond the few whose services were, in
such an emergency, deemed indispensable to safety.
Towards the last watches of the night, only, did

-- 071 --

[figure description] Page 071.[end figure description]

the images of the scenes through which they had
just passed, become dim and confused, and then
both husband and wife slept soundly, and happily
without disturbance.

CHAPTER V.

“Are you so brave? I'll have you talked with anon.”

Coriolanus.

The axe and the brand had been early and effectually
used, immediately around the dwelling of
the Heathcotes. A double object had been gained
by removing most of the vestiges of the forest from
the vicinity of the buildings: the necessary improvements
were executed with greater facility,
and, a consideration of no small importance, the
cover, which the American savage is known to seek
in his attacks, was thrown to a distance that greatly
diminished the danger of a surprise.

Favored by the advantage which had been obtained
by this foresight, and by the brilliancy of a
night that soon emulated the brightness of day,
the duty of Eben Dudley and of his associate on the
watch was rendered easy of accomplishment. Indeed,
so secure did they become towards morning, chiefly
on account of the capture of the Indian lad, that
more than once, eyes, that should have been differently
employed, yielded to the drowsiness of the
hour and to habit, or were only opened at intervals
that left their owners in some doubt as to the passage
of the intermediate time. But no sooner did the
signs of day approach, than, agreeably to their instructions,
the watchers sought their beds, and for
an hour or two, they slept soundly and without fear.

When his father had closed the prayers of the

-- 072 --

[figure description] Page 072.[end figure description]

morning, Content, in the midst of the assembled
family, communicated as many of the incidents of
the past night as in his judgment seemed necessary.
His discretion limited the narrative to the capture
of the native youth, and to the manner in which he
had ordered the watch for the security of the family.
On the subject of his own excursion to the forest
and all connected therewith, he was guardedly
silent.

It is unnecessary to relate the manner in which
this startling information was received. The cold
and reserved brow of the Puritan became still more
thoughtful; the young men looked grave, but resolute;
the maidens of the household grew pale, shuddered,
and whispered hurriedly together; while the
little Ruth, and a female child of nearly her own
age, named Martha, clung close to the side of the
mistress of the family, who, having nothing new to
learn, had taught herself to assume the appearance
of a resolution she was far from feeling.

The first visitation which befell the listeners
after their eager ears had drunk in the intelligence.
Content so briefly imparted, was a renewal of the
spiritual strivings of his father in the form of prayer.
A particular petition was put up in quest of light
on their future proceedings, for mercy on all men,
for a better mind to those who wandered through
the wilderness seeking victims of their wrath, for
the gifts of grace on the heathen, and finally for
victory over all their carnal enemies, let them come
whence or in what aspect they might.

Fortified by these additional exercises, old Mark
next made himself the master of all the signs and
evidences of the approach of danger, by a more
rigid and minute inquiry into the visible circumstances
of the arrest of the young savage. Content
received a merited and grateful reward for his prudence,
in the approbation of one whom he still

-- 073 --

[figure description] Page 073.[end figure description]

continued to revere with a mental dependence little
less than that with which he had leaned on his
father's wisdom in the days of his childhood.

“Thou hast done well and wisely,” said his father;
“but more remaineth to be performed by thy
wisdom and fortitude. We have had tidings that
the heathen near the Providence Plantations are
unquiet, and that they are lending their minds to
wicked counsellors. We are not to sleep in too
much security, because a forest journey of a few
days lies between their villages and our own clearing.
Bring forth the captive; I will question him
on the matter of this visit.”

Until now, so much did the fears of all turn towards
the enemies who were believed to be lurking
near, that little thought had been bestowed on the
prisoner in the block-house. Content, who well
knew the invincible resolution, no less than the art
of an Indian, had forborne to question him when
taken; for he believed the time to be better suited
to vigilant action, than to interrogatories that the
character of the boy was likely to render perfectly
useless. He now proceeded, however, with an
interest that began to quicken as circumstances
rendered its indulgence less unsuitable, to seek his
captive, in order to bring him before the searching
ordeal of his father's authority.

The key of the lower door of the block-house
hung where it had been deposited; the ladder was
replaced, and Content mounted quietly to the
apartment where he had placed his captive. The
room was the lowest of three that the building
contained, all being above that which might be
termed its basement. The latter, having no aperture
but its door, was a dark, hexagonal space, partly
filled with such articles as might be needed in the
event of an alarm, and which, at the same time,
were frequently required for the purposes of

-- 074 --

[figure description] Page 074.[end figure description]

domestic use. In the centre of the area was a deep
well, so fitted and protected by a wall of stone, as
to admit of water being drawn into the rooms
above. The door itself was of massive hewn timber.
The squared logs of the upper stories projected a
little beyond the stone-work of the basement, the
second tier of the timbers containing a few loops,
out of which missiles might be discharged downwards,
on any assailants that approached nearer
than should be deemed safe for the security of the
basement. As has been stated, the two principal
stories were perforated with long narrow slits
through the timber, which answered the double
purposes of windows and loop-holes. Though the
apartments were so evidently arranged for defence,
the plain domestic furniture they contained was
suited to the wants of the family, should they be
driven to the building for refuge. There was also
an apartment in the roof, or attic, as already mentioned;
but it scarcely entered into the more important
uses of the block-house. Still the advantage
which it received from its elevation was not overlooked.
A small cannon, of a kind once known and
much used under the name of grasshoppers, had
been raised to the place, and time had been, when
it was rightly considered as of the last importance
to the safety of the inmates of the dwelling. For
some years its muzzle had been seen, by all the
straggling aborigines who visited the valley, frowning
through one of those openings which were now
converted into glazed windows; and there is reason
to think, that the reputation which the little piece
of ordnance thus silently obtained, had a powerful
agency in so long preserving unmolested the peace
of the valley.

The word unmolested is perhaps too strong.
More than one alarm had in fact occurred, though
no positive acts of violence had ever been

-- 075 --

[figure description] Page 075.[end figure description]

committed within the limits which the Puritan claimed
as his own. On only one occasion, however, did
matters proceed so far that the veteran had been
induced to take his post in this warlike attic; where,
there is little doubt, had occasion further offered
for his services, he would have made a suitable
display of his knowledge in the science of gunnery.
But the simple history of the Wish-Ton-Wish had
furnished another evidence of a political truth,
which cannot be too often presented to the attention
of our countrymen; we mean that the best preservative
of peace is preparation for war. In the case
before us, the hostile attitude assumed by old Mark
and his dependants had effected all that was desirable,
without proceeding to the extremity of shedding
blood. Such peaceful triumphs were far more in
accordance with the present principles of the
Puritan, than it would have been with the reckless
temper which had governed his youth. In the
quaint and fanatical humor of the times, he had
held a family thanksgiving around the instrument
of their security, and from that moment the room
itself became a favorite resorting-place for the old
soldier. Thither he often mounted, even in the
hours of deep night, to indulge in those secret
spiritual exercises which formed the chiefest
solace, and seemingly, indeed, the great employment
of his life. In consequence of this habit, the
attic of the block-house came in time to be considered
sacred to the uses of the master of the
valley. The care and thought of Content had
gradually supplied it with many conveniences that
might contribute to the personal comfort of his
father, while the spirit was engaged in these mental
conflicts. At length, the old man was known to use
the mattress, that among other things it now contained,
and to pass the time between the setting
and rising of the sun in its solitude. The aperture

-- 076 --

[figure description] Page 076.[end figure description]

originally cut for the exhibition of the grasshopper,
had been glazed; and no article of comfort, which
was once caused to mount the difficult ladder that
led to the chamber, was ever seen to descend.

There was something in the austere sanctity of
old Mark Heathcote, that was favorable to the practices
of an anchorite. The youths of the dwelling
regarded his unbending brow, and the undisturbed
gravity of the eye it shadowed, with a respect akin
to awe. Had the genuine benevolence of his character
been less tried, or had he mingled in active
life at a later period, it might readily have been
his fate to have shared in the persecution which
his countrymen heaped on those who were believed
to deal with influences it is thought impious to exercise.
Under actual circumstances, however, the
sentiment went no farther than a deep and universal
reverence, that left its object, and the neglected
little piece of artillery, to the quiet possession of
an apartment, to invade which would have been
deemed an act bordering on sacrilege.

The business of Content, on the occasion which
caused his present visit to the edifice whose history
and description we have thought it expedient thus
to give at some length, led him no farther than to
the lowest of its more military apartments. On
raising the trap, for the first time a feeling of doubt
came over him, as to the propriety of having left
the boy so long unsolaced by words of kindness, on
by deed of charity. It was appeased by observing
that his concern was awakened in behalf of one
whose spirit was quite equal to sustain greater
trials.

The young Indian stood before one of the loops,
looking out upon that distant forest in which he
had so lately roamed at liberty, with a gaze too
riveted to turn aside even at the interruption occasioned
by the presence of his captor.

-- 077 --

[figure description] Page 077.[end figure description]

“Come from thy prison, child,” said Content, in
the tones of mildness; “whatever may have been
thy motive in lurking around this dwelling, thou art
human, and must know human wants; come forth,
and receive food; none here will harm thee.”

The language of commiseration is universal.
Though the words of the speaker were evidently
unintelligible to him for whose ears they were intended,
their import was conveyed in the kindness
of the accents. The eyes of the boy turned slowly
from the view of the woods, and he looked his captor
long and steadily in the face. Content now indeed
discovered that he had spoken in a language
that was unknown to his captive, and he endeavored
by gestures of kindness to invite the lad to follow.
He was silently and quietly obeyed. On
reaching the court, however, the prudence of a
border proprietor in some degree overcame his
feelings of compassion.

“Bring hither yon tether,” he said to Whittal
Ring, who at the moment was passing towards the
stables; “here is one wild as the most untamed of
thy colts. Man is of our nature and of our spirit,
let him be of what color it may have pleased Providence
to stamp his features; but he who would
have a young savage in his keeping on the morrow,
must look sharply to his limbs to-day.”

The lad submitted quietly, until a turn of the
rope was passed around one of his arms; but when
Content was fain to complete the work by bringing
the other limb into the same state of subjection,
the boy glided from his grasp, and cast the fetters
from him in disdain. This act of decided resistance
was, however, followed by no effort to escape. The
moment his person was released from a confinement
which he probably considered as implying distrust
of his ability to endure pain with the fortitude of
a warrior, the lad turned quietly and proudly to his

-- 078 --

[figure description] Page 078.[end figure description]

captor, and, with an eye in which scorn and haughtiness
were alike glowing, seemed to defy the ful
ness of his anger.

“Be it so,” resumed the equal-minded Content
“if thou likest not the bonds, which, notwithstanding
the pride of man, are often healthful to the body
keep then the use of thy limbs, and see that they
do no mischief. Whittal, look thou to the postern
and remember it is forbidden to go afield, until my
father hath had this heathen under examination
The cub is seldom found far from the cunning of
the aged bear.”

He then made a sign to the boy to follow, and
proceeded to the apartment where his father, surrounded
by most of the family, awaited their coming.
Uncompromising domestic discipline was one
of the striking characteristics of the sway of the
Puritans. That austerity of manner which was
thought to mark a sense of a fallen and probationary
state, was early taught; for, among a people who
deemed all mirth a sinful levity, the practice of
self-command would readily come to be esteemed
the basis of virtue. But, whatever might have
been the peculiar merit of Mark Heathcote and his
household in this particular, it was likely to be exceeded
by the exhibition of the same quality in the
youth who had so strangely become their captive

We have already said, that this child of the woods
might have seen some fifteen years. Though he had
shot upwards like a vigorous and thrifty plant, and
with the freedom of a thriving sapling in his native
forests, rearing its branches towards the light, his
stature had not yet reached that of man. In height,
form, and attitudes, he was a model of active, natural,
and graceful boyhood. But, while his limbs
were so fair in their proportions, they were scarcely
muscular; still, every movement exhibited a freedom
and ease which announced the grace of

-- 079 --

[figure description] Page 079.[end figure description]

childhood, without the smallest evidence of that restraint
which creeps into our air as the factitious feelings
of later life begin to assert their influence. The
smooth, rounded trunk of the mountain ash is not
more upright and free from blemish, than was the
figure of the boy, who moved into the curious circle
that opened for his entrance and closed against his
retreat, with the steadiness of one who came to
bestow instead of appearing to receive judgment.

“I will question him,” said old Mark Heathcote,
attentively regarding the keen and settled eye that
met his long, stern gaze as steadily as a less intelligent
creature of the woods would return the look
of man. “I will question him; and perchance fear
will wring from his lips a confession of the evil that
he and his have meditated against me and mine.”

“I think he is ignorant of our forms of speech,”
returned Content; “for the words of neither kindness
nor anger will force him to a change of feature”

“It is then meet that we commence by asking
him, who hath the secret to open all hearts, to be
our assistant.” The Puritan then raised his voice
in a short and exceedingly particular petition, in
which he implored the Ruler of the Universe to
interpret his meaning, in the forthcoming examination,
in a manner that, had his request been granted,
would have savored not a little of the miraculous.
With this preparation, he proceeded directly
to his task. But neither questions, signs, nor prayer,
produced the slightest visible effect. The boy gazed
at the rigid and austere countenance of his interrogator,
while the words were issuing from his
lips; but, the instant they ceased, his searching and
quick eye rolled over the different curious faces by
which he was hemmed in, as if he trusted more to
the sense of sight than that of hearing, for the information
he naturally sought concerning his future

-- 080 --

[figure description] Page 080.[end figure description]

lot. It was found impossible to obtain from him
gesture or sound that should betray either the purport
of his questionable visit, his own personal appellation,
or that of his tribe.

“I have been among the red skins of the Providence
Plantations,” Eben Dudley at length ventured
to observe; “and their language, though but a
crooked and irrational jargon, is not unknown to
me. With the leave of all present,” he continued,
regarding the Puritan in a manner to betray that
this general term meant him alone, “with the leave
of all present, I will put it to the younker in such
a fashion that he will be glad to answer.”

Receiving a look of assent, the borderer uttered
certain uncouth and guttural sounds, which, notwithstanding
they entirely failed of their effect, he
stoutly maintained were the ordinary terms of salutation
among the people to whom the prisoner was
supposed to belong.

“I know him to be a Narragansett,” continued
Eben, reddening with vexation at his defeat, and
throwing a glance of no peculiar amity at the youth
who had so palpably refuted his claim to skill in
the Indian tongues; “you see he hath the shells of
the sea-side worked into the bordering of his moccasons;
and besides this sign, which is certain as
that night hath its stars, he beareth the look of a
chief that was slain by the Pequods, at the wish of
us Christians, after an affair in which, whether it was
well done or ill done, I did some part of the work
myself.”

“And how call you that chief?” demanded Mark.

“Why, he had various names, according to the
business he was on. To some he was known as the
Leaping Panther, for he was a man of an extraordinary
jump; and others again used to style him
Pepperage, since there was a saying that neither
bullet nor sword could enter his body; though that

-- 081 --

[figure description] Page 081.[end figure description]

was a mistake, as his death hath fully proven. But
his real name, according to the uses and sounds of
his own people, was My Anthony Mow.”

“My Anthony Mow!”

“Yes; My, meaning that he was their chief; Anthony,
being the given name; and Mow, that of the
breed of which he came;” rejoined Eben with confidence,
satisfied that he had finally produced a sufficiently
sonorous appellative and a perfectly lucid
etymology. But criticism was diverted from its aim
by the action of the prisoner, as these equivocal
sounds struck his ear. Ruth recoiled, and clasped
her little namesake closer to her side, when she saw
the dazzling brightness of his glowing eyes, and the
sudden and expressive dilation of his nostrils. For a
moment, his lips were compressed with more than
the usual force of Indian gravity, and then they
slightly severed. A low, soft, and as even the startled
matron was obliged to confess, a plaintive sound
issued from between them, repeating mournfully—

“Miantonimoh!”

The word was uttered with a distinct, but deeply
guttural enuciation.

“The child mourneth for its parent,” exclaimed
the sensitive mother. “The hand that slew the
warrior may have done an evil deed!”

“I see the evident and foreordering will of a wise
Providence in this,” said Mark Heathcote with solemnity.
“The youth hath been deprived of one who
might have enticed him still deeper into the bonds
of the heathen, and hither hath he been led in order
to be placed upon the straight and narrow path.
He shall become a dweller among mine, and we will
strive against the evil of his mind until instruction
shall prevail. Let him be fed and nurtured, equally
with the things of life and the things of the world;
for who knoweth that which is designed in his behalf?”

-- 082 --

[figure description] Page 082.[end figure description]

If there were more of faith than of rational conclusion
in this opinion of the old Puritan, there was
no external evidence to contradict it. While the examination
of the boy was going on in the dwelling,
a keen scrutiny had taken place in the out-buildings,
and in the adjacent fields. Those engaged in this
duty soon returned, to say that not the smallest trace
of an ambush was visible about the place; and as
the captive himself had no weapons of hostility,
even Ruth began to hope that the mysterious conceptions
of her father on the subject were not entirely
delusive. The captive was now fed, and old
Mark was on the point of making a proper beginning
in the task he had so gladly assumed, by an
up-offering of thanks, when Whittal Ring broke
rudely into the room, and disturbed the solemnity
of his preparations, by a sudden and boisterous outcry.

“Away with scythe and sickle,” shouted the witling;
“it's many a day since the fields of Wish-Ton-Wish
have been trodden down by horsemen in buff
jerkins, or ambushed by creeping Wampanoags.”

“There is danger at hand!” exclaimed the sensitive
Ruth. “Husband, the warning was timely.”

“Here are truly some riding from the forest, and
drawing nigh to the dwelling; but as they are seemingly
men of our kind and faith, we have need rather
of rejoicing than terror. They bear the air of messengers
from the River.”

Mark Heathcote listened with surprise, and perhaps
with a momentary uneasiness; but all emotion
passed away on the instant, for one so disciplined in
mind rarely permitted any outward exposure of his
secret thoughts. The Puritan calmly issued an order
to replace the prisoner in the block-house, assigning
the upper of the two principal floors for his keeping;
and then he prepared himself to receive guests
that were little wont to disturb the quiet of his

-- 083 --

[figure description] Page 083.[end figure description]

secluded valley. He was still in the act of giving forth
the necessary mandates, when the tramp of horses
was heard in the court, and he was summoned to
the door to greet his unknown visiters.

“We have reached Wish-Ton-Wish, and the
dwelling of Captain Mark Heathcote,” said one,
who appeared, by his air and better attire, to be the
principal of four that composed the party.

“By the favor of Providence; I call myself the
unworthy owner of this place of refuge.”

“Then a subject so loyal, and a man who hath so
long proved himself faithful in the wilderness, will
not turn from his door the agents of his Anointed
Master.”

“There is one greater than any of earth, who hath
taught us to leave the latch free. I pray you to
alight, and to partake of that we can offer.”

With this courteous but quaint explanation, the
horsemen dismounted; and, giving their steeds into
the keeping of the laborers of the farm, they entered
the dwelling.

While the maidens of Ruth were preparing a repast
suited to the hour and to the quality of the
guests, Mark and his son had abundant opportunity
to examine the appearance of the strangers. They
were men who seemed to wear visages peculiarly
adapted to the characters of their entertainers,
being in truth so singularly demure and grave in
aspect, as to excite some suspicion of their being
newly-converted zealots to the mortifying customs
of the Colony. Notwithstanding their extraordinary
gravity, and contrary to the usages of those regions,
too, they bore about their persons certain evidence
of being used to the fashions of the other hemisphere.
The pistols attached to their saddle-bows,
and other accoutrements of a warlike aspect, would
perhaps have attracted no observation, had they not
been accompanied by a fashion in the doublet, the

-- 084 --

[figure description] Page 084.[end figure description]

hat, and the boot, that denoted a greater intercourse
with the mother country, than was usual among
the less sophisticated natives of those regions. None
traversed the forests without the means of defence;
but, on the other hand, few wore the hostile implements
with so much of a worldly air, or with so
many minor particularities of some recent caprice
in fashion. As they had however announced themselves
to be officers of the King, they, who of necessity
must be chiefly concerned in the object of
their visit, patiently awaited the pleasure of the
strangers, to learn why duty had called them so far
from all the more ordinary haunts of men: for, like
the native owners of the soil, the self-restrained religionists
appeared to reckon an indiscreet haste in
any thing, among the more unmanly weaknesses.
Nothing for the first half-hour of their visit escaped
the guarded lips of men evidently well skilled in their
present duty, which might lead to a clue of its purport.
The morning meal passed almost without
discourse, and one of the party had arisen with the
professed object of looking to their steeds, before he,
who seemed the chief, led the conversation to a
subject, that by its political bearing might, in some
degree, be supposed to have a remote connexion
with the principal object of his journey to that sequestered
valley.

“Have the tidings of the gracious boon that hath
lately flowed from the favor of the King, reached
this distant settlement?” asked the principal personage,
one that wore a far less military air than
a younger companion, who, by his confident mien,
appeared to be the second in authority.

“To what boon hath thy words import?” demanded
the Puritan, turning a glance of the eye
at his son and daughter, together with the others
in hearing, as if to admonish them to be prudent.

“I speak of the Royal Charter by which the

-- 085 --

[figure description] Page 085.[end figure description]

people on the banks of the Connecticut, and they of
the Colony of New-Haven, are henceforth permitted
to unite in government; granting them liberty of
conscience, and great freedom of self-control.”

“Such a gift were worthy of a King! Hath
Charles done this?”

“That hath he, and much more that is fitting
in a kind and royal mind. The realm is finally freed
from the abuses of usurpers, and power now resteth
in the hands of a race long set apart for its privileges.”

“It is to be wished that practice shall render
them expert and sage in its uses,” rejoined Mark,
somewhat drily.

“It is a merry Prince! and one but little given
to the study and exercises of his martyred father;
but he hath great cunning in discourse, and few
around his dread person have keener wit or more
ready tongue.”

Mark bowed his head in silence, seemingly little
disposed to push the discussion of his earthly
master's qualities to a conclusion that might prove
offensive to so loyal an admirer. One inclining to
suspicion would have seen, or thought he saw,
certain equivocal glances from the stranger, while
he was thus lauding the vivacious qualities of the
restored monarch, which should denote a desire to
detect how far the eulogiums might be grateful to
his host. He acquiesced however in the wishes of
the Puritan, though whether understandingly, or
without design, it would have been difficult to say,
and submitted to change the discourse.

“It is likely, by thy presence, that tidings have
reached the Colonies from home,” said Content,
who understood, by the severe and reserved expression
of his father's features, that it was a
fitting time for him to interpose.

“There is one arrived in the Bay, within the

-- 086 --

[figure description] Page 086.[end figure description]

month, by means of a King's frigate; but no trader
hath yet passed between the countries, except the
ship which maketh the annual voyage from Bristol
to Boston.”

“And he who hath arrived—doth he come in
authority?” demanded Mark; “or is he merely
another servant of the Lord, seeking to rear his
tabernacle in the wilderness?”

“Thou shalt know the nature of his errand,”
returned the stranger, casting a glance of malicious
intelligence obliquely towards his companions, at
the same time that he arose and placed in the hand
of his host a commission which evidently bore the
Seal of State. “It is expected that all aid will be
given to one bearing this warranty, by a subject
of a loyalty so approved as that of Captain Mark
Heathcote.”

CHAPTER VI.

“But, by your leave,
I am an officer of state, and come
To speak with—”

Coriolanus.

Notwithstanding the sharp look which the Messenger
of the Crown deliberately and now openly
fastened on the master of Wish-Ton-Wish, while
the latter was reading the instrument that was
placed before his eyes, there was no evidence of
uneasiness to be detected in the unmoved features
of the latter. Mark Heathcote had too long schooled
his passions, to suffer an unseemly manifestation
of surprise to escape him; and he was by nature a
man of far too much nerve, to betray alarm at any
trifling exhibition of danger. Returning the

-- 087 --

[figure description] Page 087.[end figure description]

parchment to the other, he said with unmoved calmness
to his son—

“We must open wide the doors of Wish-Ton-Wish.
Here is one charged with authority to look
into the secrets of all the dwellings of the colony.”
Then, turning with dignity to the agent of the
Crown, he added, “Thou hadst better commence
thy duty in season, for we are many and occupy
much space.”

The face of the stranger flushed a little, it might
have been with shame for the vocation in which he
had come so far, or it might have been in resentment
at so direct a hint that the sooner his disagreeable
office should be ended, the better it would
please his host. Still, he betrayed no intention of
shrinking from its performance. On the contrary,
discarding somewhat of that subdued manner which
he had probably thought it politic to assume, while
sounding the opinions of one so rigid, he broke out
rather suddenly in the exhibition of a humor somewhat
better suited to the tastes of him he served.

“Come then,” he cried, winking at his companions,
“since doors are opened, it would speak ill of
our breeding should we refuse to enter. Captain
Heathcote has been a soldier, and he knows how to
excuse a traveller's freedom. Surely one who has
tasted of the pleasures of the camp, must weary at
times of this sylvan life!”

“The stedfast in faith weary not, though the road
be long and the wayfaring grievous.”

“Hum—'tis pity that the journeying between
merry England and these Colonies is not more brisk.
I do not presume to instruct a gentleman who is
my senior, and peradventure my better; but opportunity
is everything in a man's fortunes. It were
charity to let you know, worthy sir, that opinions
have changed at home: it is full a twelvemonth
since I have heard a line of the Psalms, or a verse

-- 088 --

[figure description] Page 088.[end figure description]

of St. Paul quoted, in discourse; at least by men
who are at all esteemed for their discretion.”

“This change in the fashion of speech may better
suit thy earthly than thy heavenly master,” said
Mark Heathcote, sternly.

“Well, well, that peace may exist between us,
we will not bandy words about a text more or less,
if we may escape the sermon,” rejoined the stranger,
no longer affecting restraint, but laughing with
sufficient freedom at his own conceit; a species of
enjoyment in which his companions mingled with
great good-will, and without much deference to the
humor of those under whose roof they found themselves.

A small glowing spot appeared on the pale cheek
of the Puritan, and disappeared again, like some
transient deception produced by the play of light.
Even the meek eye of Content kindled at the insult;
but, like his father, the practice of self-denial,
and a never-slumbering consciousness of his own
imperfections, smothered the momentary exhibition
of displeasure.

“If thou hast authority to look into the secret
places of our habitations, do thy office,” he said,
with a peculiarity of tone which served to remind
the other, that though he bore the commission of
the Stuart, he was in an extremity of his Empire,
where even the authority of a King lost some of
its value.

Affecting to be, and possibly in reality conscious
of his indiscretion, the stranger hastily disposed
himself to the execution of his duty.

“It would be a great and a pain-saving movement,”
he said, “were we to assemble the household
in one apartment. The government at home
would be glad to hear something of the quality of
its lieges in this distant quarter. Thou hast doubtless
a bell to summon the flock at stated periods.”

-- 089 --

[figure description] Page 089.[end figure description]

“Our people are yet near the dwelling,” returned
Content: “if it be thy pleasure, none shall be
absent from the search.”

Gathering from the eye of the other that he was
serious in this wish, the quiet Colonist proceeded to
the gate, and, placing a shell to his mouth, blew
one of those blasts that are so often heard in the
forests summoning families to their homes, and which
are alike used as the signals of peaceful recall, or
of alarm. The sound soon brought all within hearing
to the court, whither the Puritan and his unpleasant
guests now repaired as to the spot best
suited to the purposes of the latter.

“Hallam,” said the principal personage of the
four visiters, addressing him who might once have
been, if he were not still, some subaltern in the
forces of the Crown, for he was attired in a manner
that bespoke him but a half-disguised dragoon, “I
leave thee to entertain this goodly assemblage.
Thou mayst pass the time in discoursing on the
vanities of the world, of which I believe few are
better qualified to speak understandingly than thyself,
or a few words of admonition to hold fast to
the faith would come with fitting weight from thy
lips. But look to it, that none of thy flock wander;
for here must every creature of them remain, stationary
as the indiscreet partner of Lot, till I have
cast an eye into all the cunning places of their
abode. So set wit at work, and show thy breeding
as an entertainer.”

After this irreverent charge to his subordinate,
the speaker signified to Content and his father, that
he and his remaining attendant would proceed to a
more minute examination of the premises.

When Mark Heathcote saw that the man who
had so rudely broken in upon the peaceful habits
of his family was ready to proceed, he advanced
steadily in his front, like one who boldly invited

-- 090 --

[figure description] Page 090.[end figure description]

inquiry, and by a grave gesture desired him to follow.
The stranger, perhaps as much from habit as from
any settled design, first cast a free glance around
at the bevy of fluttered maidens, leered even upon
the modest and meek-eyed Ruth herself, and then
took the direction indicated by him who had so unhesitatingly
assumed the office of a guide.

The object of this examination still remained a
secret between those who made it, and the Puritan,
who had probably found its motive in the written
warranty which had been submitted to his inspection.
That it proceeded from fitting authority, none
might doubt; and that it was in some manner connected
with the events that were known to have
wrought so sudden and so great a change in the
government of the mother country, all believed
probable. Notwithstanding the seeming mystery
of the procedure, the search was not the less rigid.
Few habitations of any size or pretension were
erected in those times, which did not contain certain
secret places, where valuables and even persons
might be concealed, at need. The strangers
displayed great familiarity with the nature and ordinary
positions of these private recesses. Not a
chest, a closet, or even a drawer of size, escaped
their vigilance; nor was there a plank that sounded
hollow, but the master of the valley was called on
to explain the cause. In one or two instances,
boards were wrested violently from their fastenings,
and the cavities beneath were explored, with
a wariness that increased as the investigation proceeded
without success.

The strangers appeared irritated by their failure.
An hour passed in the keenest scrutiny, and nothing
had transpired which brought them any nearer to
their object. That they had commenced the search
with more than usually confident anticipations of a
favorable result, might have been gathered from

-- 091 --

[figure description] Page 091.[end figure description]

the boldness of tone assumed by their chief, and the
pointed personal allusions in which, from time to
time, he indulged, often too freely, and always at
some expense to the loyalty of the Heathcotes. But
when he had completed the circuit of the buildings,
having entered all parts from their cellars to the
garrets, his spleen became so strong as, in some degree,
to get the better of a certain parade of discretion,
which he had hitherto managed to maintain
in the midst of all his levity.

“Hast seen nothing, Mr. Hallam?” he demanded
of the individual left on watch, as they crossed the
court in retiring from the last of the out-buildings;
“or have those traces which led us to this distant
settlement proved false? Captain Heathcote, you
have seen that we come not without sufficient warranty,
and it is in my power to say we come not
without sufficient—”

Checking himself as if about to utter more than
was prudent, he suddently cast an eye on the block-house,
and demanded its uses.

“It is, as thou seest, a building erected for the
purposes of defence,” replied Mark; “one to which,
in the event of an inroad of the savages, the family
may fly for refuge.”

“Ah! these citadels are not unknown to me. I
have met with others during my journey, but none
so formidable or so military as this. It hath a soldier
for its governor, and should hold out for a reasonable
siege. Being a place of pretension, we will look
closer into its mystery.”

He then signified an intention to close the search
by an examination of this edifice. Content unhesitatingly
threw open its door, and invited him to
enter.

“On the word of one who, though now engaged
in a more peaceful calling, has been a campaigner
in his time, 'twould be no child's-play to carry this

-- 092 --

[figure description] Page 092.[end figure description]

tower without artillery. Had thy spies given notice
of our approach, Captain Heathcote, the entrance
might have been more difficult than we now find it.
We have a ladder, here! Where the means of mounting
are found, there must be something to tempt one
to ascend. I will taste your forest air from an upper
room.”

“You will find the apartment above, like this below,
merely provided for the security of the unoffending
dwellers of the habitations,” said Content;
while he quietly arranged the ladder before the
trap, and then led the way himself to the floor
above.

“Here have we loops for the musketoons,” cried
the stranger, looking about him, understandingly,
“and reasonable defences against shot. Thou hast
not forgotten thy art, Captain Heathcote, and I consider
myself fortunate in having entered thy fortress
by surprise, or I should rather say, in amity, since
the peace is not yet broken between us. But why
have we so much of household gear in a place so
evidently equipped for war?”

“Thou forgettest that women and children may
be driven to this block for a residence,” replied Content.
“It would show little discretion to neglect
matters that might be useful to their wants.”

“Is there trouble with the savages?” demanded
the stranger, a little quickly; “the gossips of the
Colony bade us fear nothing on that head.”

“One cannot say at what hour creatures trained
in their wild natures may choose to rise. The dwellers
on the borders therefore never neglect a fitting
caution.”

“Hist!” interrupted the stranger; “I hear a
footstep above. Ha! the scent will prove true at
last! Hilloa, Master Hallam!” he cried from one of
the loops, “let thy statues of salt dissolve, and come
hither to the tower. Here is work for a regiment;

-- 093 --

[figure description] Page 093.[end figure description]

for well do we know the nature of that we are to
deal with.”

The sentinel in the court shouted to his companion
in the stables, and then, openly and boisterously
exulting in the prospects of a final success to a
search which had hitherto given them useless employment
throughout many a long day and weary
ride, they rushed together to the block-house.

“Now, worthy lieges of a gracious master,” said
the leader, when he perceived himself backed by
all his armed followers, and speaking with the air
of a man flushed with success, “now quickly provide
the means of mounting to the upper story. I
have thrice heard the tread of man, moving across
that floor; though it hath been light and wary, the
planks are tell-tales, and have not had their schooling.”

Content heard the request, which was uttered
sufficiently in the manner of an order, perfectly
unmoved. Without betraying either hesitation or
concern, he disposed himself to comply. Drawing
the light ladder through the trap below, he placed
it against the one above him, and ascending he
raised the door. He then returned to the floor beneath,
making a quiet gesture to imply that they
who chose might mount. But the strangers regarded
each other with very visible doubts. Neither
of the inferiors seemed disposed to precede his chief,
and the latter evidently hesitated as to the order in
which it was meet to make the necessary advance.

“Is there no other manner of mounting, but by
this narrow ascent?” he asked.

“None. Thou wilt find the ladder secure, and of
no difficult height. It is intended for the use of women
and children.”

“Ay,” muttered the officer, “but your women
and children are not called upon to confront the
devil in a human form. Fellows, are thy weapons

-- 094 --

[figure description] Page 094.[end figure description]

in serviceable condition? Here may be need of
spirit, ere we get our—Hist! by the Divine Right
of our Gracious Master! there is truly one stirring
above. Harkee, my friend; thou knowest the road
so well, we will choose to follow thy conduct.”

Content, who seldom permitted ordinary events
to disturb the equanimity of his temper, quietly
assented, and led the way up the ladder, like one
who saw no ground for apprehension in the undertaking.
The agent of the crown sprang after him,
taking care to keep as near as possible to the person
of his leader, and calling to his inferiors to lose
no time in backing him with their support. The
whole mounted through the trap, with an alacrity
nothing short of that with which they would have
pressed through a dangerous breach; nor did either
of the four take time to survey the lodgment he
had made, until the whole party was standing in
array, with hands grasping the handles of their
pistols, or seeking as it were instinctively the hilts
of their broadswords.

“By the dark visage of the Stuart!” exclaimed
the principal personage, after satisfying himself by
a long and disappointed gaze, that what he said
was true, “here is nought but an unarmed savage
boy!”

“Didst expect to meet else?” demanded the still
unmoved Content.

“Hum—that which we expected to meet is sufficiently
known to the quaint old gentleman below,
and to our own good wisdom. If thou doubtest of
our right to look into thy very hearts, warranty
for that we do can be forthcoming. King Charles
hath little cause to be tender of his mercies to the
dwellers of these Colonies, who lent but too willing
ears to the whinings and hypocrisies of the wolves
in sheeps' clothing, of whom old England hath now
so happily gotten rid. Thy buildings shall again be

-- 095 --

[figure description] Page 095.[end figure description]

rummaged from the bricks of the chimney-tops to
the corner-stone in thy cellars, unless deceit and
rebellious cunning shall be abandoned, and the
truth proclaimed with the openness and fairness of
bold-speaking Englishmen.”

“I know not what is called the fairness of bold-speaking
Englishmen, since fairness of speech is not
a quality of one people, or of one land; but well I
do know that deceit is sinful, and little of it, I
humbly trust, is practised in this settlement. I am
ignorant of what is sought, and therefore it cannot
be that I meditate treachery.”

“Thou hearest, Hallam; he reasoneth on a
matter that toucheth the peace and safety of the
King!” cried the other, his arrogance of manner
increasing with the anger of disappointment. “But
why is this dark-skinned boy a prisoner? dost dare
to constitute thyself a sovereign over the natives
of this continent, and affect to have shackles and
dungeons for such as meet thy displeasure?”

“The lad is in truth a captive; but he has been
taken in defence of life, and hath little to complain
of, more than loss of freedom.”

“I will inquire deeply into this proceeding.
Though commissioned on an errand of different
interest, yet, as one trusted in a matter of moment,
I take upon me the office of protecting every
oppressed subject of the Crown. There may grow
discoveries out of this practice, Hallam, fit to go
before the Council itself.”

“Thou wilt find but little here, worthy of the
time and attention of those burthened with the
care of a nation,” returned Content. “The youthful
heathen was found lurking near our habitations,
the past night; and he is kept where thou
seest, that he may not carry the tidings of our
condition to his people, who are doubtless outlying

-- 096 --

[figure description] Page 096.[end figure description]

in the forest, waiting for the fit moment to work
their evil.”

“How meanest thou?” hastily exclaimed the
other, “at hand, in the forest, didst say?”

“There can be little doubt. One young as this
would scarce be found distant from the warriors of
his tribe; and that the more especially, as he was
taken in the commission of an ambush.”

“I hope thy people are not without good provision
of arms, and other sufficient muniments of
resistance. I trust the palisadoes are firm, and the
posterns ingeniously defended.”

“We look with a diligent eye to our safety, for
it is well known to us dwellers on the borders that
there is little security but in untiring watchfulness.
The young men were at the gates until the morning,
and we did intend to make a strong scouting
into the woods as the day advanced, in order to look
for those signs that may lead us to conclusions on
the number and purposes of those by whom we
are environed, had not thy visit called us to other
duties.”

“And why so tardy in speaking of this intent?”
demanded the agent of the King, leading the way
down the ladder with suspicious haste. “It is a
commendable prudence, and must not be delayed.
I take upon me the responsibleness of commanding
that all proper care be had in defence of the
weaker subjects of the Crown who are here collected.
Are our roadsters well replenished, Hallam?
Duty, as thou sayest, is an imperative master; it
recalls us more into the heart of the Colony. I
would it might shortly point the way to Europe!”
he muttered as he reached the ground. “Go, fellows;
see to our beasts, and let them be speedily prepared
for departure.”

The attendants, though men of sufficient spirit
in open war, and when it was to be exercised in

-- 097 --

[figure description] Page 097.[end figure description]

a fashion to which they were accustomed, had, like
other mortals, a wholesome deference for unknown
and terrific-looking danger. It is a well-known
truth, and one that has been proved by the experience
of two centuries, that while the European
soldier has ever been readiest to have recourse to
the assistance of the terrible warrior of the American
forest, he has, in nearly every instance, when
retaliation or accident has made him the object
instead of the spectator of the ruthless nature of
his warfare, betrayed the most salutary, and frequently
the most abject and ludicrous apprehension
of the prowess of his ally. While Content therefore
looked so steadily, though still seriously, at the
peculiar danger in which he was placed, the four
strangers seemingly saw all of its horrors without
any of the known means of avoiding them. Their
chief quickly abandoned the insolence of office,
and the tone of disappointment, for a mien of greater
courtesy; and, as policy is often seen suddenly to
change the sentiments of even more pretending
personages, when interests assume a new aspect, so
did his language rapidly take a character of conciliation
and courtesy.

The handmaidens were no longer leered at; the
mistress of the dwelling was treated with marked
deference; and the air of deep respect with which
even the principal of the party addressed the aged
Puritan, bordered on an exhibition of commendable
reverence. Something was said, in the way of
apology, for the disagreeable obligations of duty,
and of a difference between a manner that was
assumed to answer secret purposes, and that which
nature and a sense of right would dictate: but
neither Mark nor his son appeared to have sufficient
interest in the motives of their visiters, to put them
to the trouble of repeating explanations that were as

-- 098 --

[figure description] Page 098.[end figure description]

awkward to those who uttered them, as they were
unnecessary to those who listened.

So far from offering any further obstacle to the
movements of the family, the borderers were seriously
urged to pursue their previous intentions of
thoroughly examining the woods. The dwelling
was accordingly intrusted, under the orders of the
Puritan, to the keeping of about half the laborers
assisted by the Europeans, who clung with instinctive
attachment to the possession of the block-house
their leader repeatedly and rightly enough declaring
that though ready at all times to risk life on a plain
he had an unconquerable distaste to putting it in
jeopardy in a thicket. Attended by Eben Dudley
Reuben Ring, and two other stout youths, all well
though lightly armed, Content then left the palisadoes,
and took his way towards the forest. They
entered the woods at the nearest point, always
marching with the caution and vigilance that a
sense of the true nature of the risk they ran would
inspire, and much practice only could properly
direct.

The manner of the search was as simple as it
was likely to prove effectual. The scouts commenced
a circuit around the clearing, extending
their line as far as might be done without cutting
off support, and each man lending his senses attentively
to the signs of the trail, or of the lairs, of
those dangerous enemies, who they had reason to
think were outlying in their neighborhood. But
like the recent search in the buildings, the scouting
was for a long time attended by no results. Many
weary miles were passed slowly over, and more
than half their task was ended, and no sign of being
having life was met, except the very visible trail
of their four guests, and the tracks of a single
horse along the path leading to the settlement
from the quarter by which the visiter of the

-- 099 --

[figure description] Page 099.[end figure description]

previous night had been known to approach. No
comments were made by any of the party, as each
in succession struck and crossed this path, nearly at
the same instant; but a low call from Reuben Ring
which soon after met their ears, caused them to assemble
in a body at the spot whence the summons
had proceeded.

“Here are signs of one passing from the clearing,”
said the quick-eyed woodsman, “and of one
too that is not numbered among the family of Wish-Ton-Wish;
since his beast hath had a shodden hoof,
a mark which belongeth to no animal of ours.”

“We will follow,” said Content, immediately
striking in upon a straggling trail, that by many unequivocal
signs had been left by some animal which
had passed that way not many hours before. Their
search, however, soon grew to a close. Ere they
had gone any great distance, they came upon the
half-demolished carcass of a dead horse. There
was no mistaking the proprietor of this unfortunate
animal. Though some beast, or rather beasts of
prey, had fed plentifully on the body, which was
still fresh and had scarcely yet done bleeding, it
was plain, by the remains of the torn equipments,
as well as by the color and size of the animal, that
it was no other than the hack ridden by the unknown
and mysterious guest, who, after sharing in
the worship and in the evening meal of the family
of the Wish-Ton-Wish, had so strangely and so suddenly
disappeared. The leathern sack, the weapons
which had so singularly riveted the gaze of old
Mark, and indeed all but the carcass and a ruined
saddle, were gone; but what was left, sufficiently
served to identify the animal.

“Here has been the tooth of wolf,” said Eben
Dudley, stooping to examine into the nature of a
ragged wound in the neck; “and here, too, has

-- 100 --

[figure description] Page 100.[end figure description]

been cut of knife; but whether by the hand of
red skin, it exceedeth my art to say.”

Each individual of the party now bent curiousl
over the wound; but the results of their inquirie
went no further than to prove that it was undeniably
the horse of the stranger, that had forfeited it
life. To the fate of its master, however, there was
not the slightest clue. Abandoning the investigation,
after a long and fruitless examination, they
proceeded to finish the circuit of the clearing
Night had approached ere the fatiguing task was
accomplished. As Ruth stood at the postern waiting
anxiously for their return, she saw by the countenance
of her husband, that while nothing had
transpired to give any grounds of additional alarm,
no satisfactory testimony had been obtained to explain
the nature of the painful doubts, with which
as a tender and sensitive mother, she had been distressed
throughout the day.

CHAPTER VII.

“Is there not milking-time,
When you go to bed, or kiln-hole,
To whistle off these secrets; but you must be
Tattling before all our guests?”
Winter's Tale.

Long experience hath shown that the white
man, when placed in situations to acquire such
knowledge, readily becomes the master of most of
that peculiar skill for which the North American
Indian is so remarkable, and which enables him
among other things, to detect the signs of a forest
trail, with a quickness and an accuracy of intelligence
that amount nearly to an instinct. The fears

-- 101 --

[figure description] Page 101.[end figure description]

of the family were therefore greatly quieted by
the reports of the scouts, all of whom agreed in
the opinion that no party of savages, that could be
at all dangerous to a force like their own, was lying
near the valley; and some of whom, the loudest of
which number being stout Eben Dudley, boldly
offered to answer for the security of those who
depended on their vigilance, with their own lives.
These assurances had, beyond a doubt, a soothing
influence on the apprehensions of Ruth and her
handmaidens; but they somewhat failed of their
effect, with those unwelcome visiters who still continued
to cumber Wish-Ton-Wish with their presence.
Though they had evidently abandoned all
ideas connected with the original object of their
visit, they spoke not of departure. On the contrary,
as night approached, their chief entered into council
with old Mark Heathcote, and made certain
propositions for the security of his dwelling, which
the Puritan saw no reason to oppose.

A regular watch was, in consequence, set, and
maintained till morning, at the palisadoes. The
different members of the family retired to their
usual places of rest, tranquil in appearance, if not
in entire confidence of peace; and the military
messengers took post in the lower of the two fighting
apartments of the citadel. With this simple,
and to the strangers particularly satisfactory arrangement,
the hours of darkness passed away in
quiet; morning returning to the secluded valley, as
it had so often done before, with its loveliness unimpaired
by violence or tumult.

In the same peaceful manner did the sun set successively
three several times, and as often did it
arise on the abode of the Heathcotes, without further
sign of danger, or motive of alarm. With the
passage of time, the agents of the Stuart gradually
regained their confidence. Still they never

-- 102 --

[figure description] Page 102.[end figure description]

neglected to withdraw within the protection of the block
house with the retiring light; a post which the subordinate
named Hallam, more than once gravely
observed, they were, by their disciplined and military
habits, singularly qualified to maintain. Though
the Puritan secretly chafed under this protracted
visit, habitual self-denial, and a manner so long subdued,
enabled him to conceal his disgust. For the
first two days after the alarm, the deportment of
his guests was unexceptionable. All their faculties
appeared to be engrossed with keen and anxious
watchings of the forest, out of which it would seem
they expected momentarily to see issue a band offerocious
and ruthless savages: but symptoms of returning
levity began to be apparent, as confidence
and a feeling of security increased, with the quiet
passage of the hours.

It was on the evening of the third day from that
on which they had made their appearance in the
settlement, that the man called Hallam was seem
strolling, for the first time, through the postern so
often named, and taking a direction which led towards
the out-buildings. His air was less distrustful
than it had been for many a weary hour, and
his step proportionably confident and assuming. Instead
of wearing, as he had been wont, a pair of
heavy horseman's pistols at his girdle, he had even
laid aside his broadsword, and appeared more in the
guise of one who sought his personal ease, than in
that cumbersome and martial attire which all of his
party, until now, had deemed it prudent to maintain
He cast his glance cursorily over the fields of the
Heathcotes, as they glowed under the soft light of
a setting sun; nor did his eye even refuse to wander
vacantly along the outline of that forest, which his
imagination had so lately been peopling with beings
of a fierce and ruthless nature.

The hour was one when rustic economy brings the

-- 103 --

[figure description] Page 103.[end figure description]

labors of the day to a close. Among those who were
more than usually active at that busy moment, was
a handmaiden of Ruth, whose clear sweet voice was
heard, in one of the inclosures, occasionally rising
on the notes of a spiritual song, and as often sinking
to a nearly inaudible hum, as she extracted from a
favorite animal liberal portions of its nightly tribute
to the dairy of her mistress. To that inclosure
the stranger, as it were by accident, suffered his
sauntering footsteps to stroll, seemingly as much in
admiration of the sleek herd as of any other of its
comely tenants.

“From what thrush hast taken lessons, my pretty
maid, that I mistook thy notes for one of the sweetest
songsters of thy woods?” he asked, trusting his
person to the support of the pen in an attitude of
easy superiority. “One might fancy it a robin, or a
wren, trolling out his evening song, instead of human
voice rising and falling in every-day psalmody.”

“The birds of our forest rarely speak,” returned
the girl; “and the one among them which has
most to say, does it like those who are called gentlemen,
when they set wit to work to please the ear
of simple country maidens.”

“And in what fashion may that be?”

“Mockery.”

“Ah! I have heard of the creature's skill. It is
said to be a compound of the harmony of all other
forest songsters; and yet I see little resemblance to
the honest language of a soldier, in its manner of
utterance.”

“It speaketh without much meaning; and oftener
to cheat the ear, than in honest reason.”

“Thou forgettest that which I told thee in the
morning, child. It would seem that they who named
thee, have no great cause to exult in their judgment

-- 104 --

[figure description] Page 104.[end figure description]

of character, since Unbelief would better describe
thy disposition, than Faith.”

“It may be, that they who named me little knew
how great must be credulity, to give ear to all
have been required to credit.”

“Thou canst have no difficulty in admitting that
thou art comely, since the eye itself will support
thy belief; nor can one of so quick speech fail to
know that her wit is sharper than common. Thus
far, I admit, the name of Faith will not surely believ
thy character.”

“If Eben Dudley hear thee use such vanity-stirring
discourse,” returned the half-pleased girl, “he
might give thee less credit for wit than thou seemest
willing to yield to others. I hear his heavy foot
among the cattle, and ere long we shall be sure to
see a face that hath little more of lightness to
boast.”

“This Eben Dudley is a personage of no mean
importance, I find!” muttered the other, continuing
his walk, as the borderer named made his appearance
at another entrance of the pen. The glances
exchanged between them were far from friendly,
though the woodsman permitted the stranger to
pass without any oral expression of displeasure.

“The skittish heifer is getting gentle at last, Faith
Ring,” said the borderer, casting the but of his
musket on the ground with a violence that left a
deep impression on the faded sward at his feet.
“That brindled ox, old Logger, is not more willing
to come into his yoke, than is the four-year-old to
yield her milk.”

“The creature has been getting kind, since you
taught the manner to tame its humor,” returned
the dairy girl, in a voice that, spite of every effort
of maiden pride, betrayed something of the flurry
of her spirits, while she plied her light task with
violent industry.

-- 105 --

[figure description] Page 105.[end figure description]

“Umph! I hope some other of my teachings may
be as well remembered; but thou art quick at the
trick of learning, Faith, as is plain by the ready
manner in which thou hast so shortly got the habit
of discourse with a man as nimble-tongued as yon
riding reprobate from over sea.”

“I hope that civil listening is no proof of unseemly
discourse on the part of one who hath been trained
in modesty of speech, Eben Dudley. Thou hast
often said, it was the bounden duty of her who was
spoken to, to give ear, lest some might say she was
of scornful mind, and her name for pride be better
earned than that for good-nature.”

“I see that more of my lessons than I had hoped
are still in thy keeping. So thou listenest thus readily,
Faith, because it is meet that a maiden should
not be scornful!”

“Thou sayest so. Whatever ill name I may deserve,
thou hast no right to count scorn among my
failings.”

“If I do, may I—” Eben Dudley bit his lip,
and checked an expression which would have given
grievous offence to one whose habits of decency
were as severe as those of his companion. “Thou
must have heard much that was profitable to-day,
Faith Ring,” he added, “considering that thy ear
is so open, and that thy opportunities have been
great.”

“I know not what thou wouldst say by speaking
of my opportunities,” returned the girl, bending
still lower beneath the object of her industry, in
order to conceal the glow which her own quick
consciousness told her was burning on her cheek.

“I would say that the tale must be long, that
needeth four several trials of private speech to finish.”

“Four! as I hope to be believed for a girl of truth
in speech or deed, this is but the third time that the

-- 106 --

[figure description] Page 106.[end figure description]

stranger hath spoken to me apart, since the sun hath
risen.”

“If I know the number of the fingers of my hand
it is the fourth!”

“Nay, how canst thou, Eben Dudley, who has
been afield since the crowing of the cock, know
what hath passed about the dwellings? It is plain
that envy, or some other evil passion, causeth thee
to speak angrily.”

“How is it that I know! perhaps thou thinkes
Faith, thy brother Reuben, only, hath the gift of
sight.”

“The labor must have gone on with great profit
to the Captain, whilst eyes have been roving over
other matters! But perhaps they kept the strong of
arm for the lookers-out, and have set them of feebler
bodies to the toil.”

“I have not been so careless of thy life as to
forget, at passing moments, to cast an eye a broad,
pert-one. Whatever thou mayst think of the need,
there would be fine wailings in the butteries and
dairies, did the Wampanoags get into the clearing,
and were there none to give the alarm in season.”

“Truly, Eben, thy terror of the child in the
block must be grievous for one of thy manhood,
else wouldst thou not watch the buildings so narrowly,”
retorted Faith, laughing; for with the dexterity
of her sex, she began to feel the superiority
she was gradually obtaining in the discourse. “Thou
dost not remember that we have valiant troopers,
from old England, to keep the younker from doing
harm. But here cometh the brave soldier himself:
it will be well to ask vigilance at his hands, or this
night may bring us to the tomahawk in our sleep!”

“Thou speakest of the weapon of the savages!”
said the messenger, who had drawn near again with
a visible willingness to share in an interview which,
while he had watched its progress at a distance,

-- 107 --

[figure description] Page 107.[end figure description]

appeared to be growing interesting. “I trust all
fear is over, from that quarter.”

“As you say, for this quarter,” said Eben, adjusting
his lips to a low whistle, and coolly looking up
to examine the heavenly body to which he meant
allusion. “But the next quarter may bring us a
pretty piece of Indian skirmishing.”

“And what hath the moon in common with an
incursion of the savages? Are there those among
them, who study the secrets of the stars?”

“They study deviltries and other wickedness,
more than aught else. It is not easy for the mind
of man to fancy horrors such as they design, when
Providence has given them success in an inroad.”

“But thou didst speak of the moon! In what
manner is the moon leagued with their bloody
plots?”

“We have her now in the full, and there is little
of the night when the eye of a watcher might not
see a red skin in the clearing; but a different tale
may be heard, when an hour or two of jet darkness
shall again fall among these woods. There will be
a change shortly; it behoveth us therefore to be on
our guard.”

“Thou thinkest then, truly, that there are outlyers
waiting for the fitting moment?” said the officer,
with an interest so marked as to cause even
the but-half-pacified Faith to glance an arch look
at her companion, though he still had reason to distrust
a wilful expression that lurked in the corner
of her eyes, which threatened at each moment to
contradict his relation of the sinister omens.

“There may be savages lying in the hills, at a
day's journey in the forest; but they know the aim
of a white man's musket too well, to be sleeping
within reach of its range. It is the nature of an
Indian to eat and sleep while he has time for quiet,

-- 108 --

[figure description] Page 108.[end figure description]

and to fast and murder when the killing hour hath
come.”

“And what call you the distance to the nearest
settlement on the Connecticut?” demanded the other,
with an air so studiously indifferent as to furnish an
easy clue to the inner workings of his mind.

“Some twenty hours would bring a nimble runner
to the outer habitations, granting small time for food
and rest. He that is wise, however, will take but
little of the latter, until his head be safely housed
within some such building as yon block, or until there
shall stand between him and the forest at least a
goodly row of oaken pickets.”

“There is no path ridden by which travellers may
avoid the forest during the darkness?”

“I know of none. He who quits Wish-Ton-Wish
for the towns below, must make his pillow of the
earth, or be fain to ride as long as beast can carry.”

“We have truly had experience of this necessity,
journeying hither. Thou thinkest, friend, the savages
are in their resting time, and that they wait
the coming quarter of the moon?”

“To my seeming, we shall not have them sooner,”
returned Eben Dudley; taking care to conceal all
qualification of this opinion, if any such he entertained,
by closely locking its purport in a mental
reservation.

“And what season is it usual to choose for getting
into the saddle, when business calls any to the settlements
below?”

“We never fail to take our departure about the
time the sun touches the tall pine, which stands on
yonder height of the mountain. Much experience
hath told us it is the safest hour; hand of time-piece
is not more sure than yon tree.”

“I like the night,” said the other, looking about
him with the air of one suddenly struck with the
promising appearance of the weather. “The

-- 109 --

[figure description] Page 109.[end figure description]

blackness no longer hangs about the forest, and it seems
a fitting moment to push the matter, on which we
are sent, nearer to its conclusion.”

So saying, and probably believing that he had
sufficiently concealed the motive of his decision, the
uneasy dragoon walked with an air of soldierly coolness
towards the dwellings, signing at the same time
to one of his companions, who was regarding him
from a distance, to approach.

“Now dost thou believe, witless Dudley, that the
four fingers of thy clumsy hand have numbered the
full amount of all that thou callest my listenings?”
said Faith, when she thought no other ear but his
to whom she spoke could catch her words, and at
the same time laughing merrily beneath her heifer,
though still speaking with a vexation she could not
entirely repress.

“Have I spoken aught but truth? It is not for
such as I to give lessons in journeying, to one who
follows the honest trade of a man-hunter. I have
said that which all who dwell in these parts know
to be reasonable.”

“Surely nought else. But truth is made so powerful
in thy hands, that it needs be taken, like a bitter
healing draught, with closed eyes and at many
swallows. One who drinketh of it too freely, may
well-nigh be strangled. I marvel that he who is so
vigilant in providing for the cares of others, should
take so little heed of those he is set to guard.”

“I know not thy meaning, Faith. When was
danger near the valley, and my musket wanting?”

“The good piece is truer to duty than its master.
Thou mayest have lawful license to sleep on thy
post, for we maidens know nothing of the pleasure
of the Captain in these matters; but it would be
as seemly, if not as soldierly, to place the arms at
the postern and thyself in the chambers, when

-- 110 --

[figure description] Page 110.[end figure description]

next thou hast need of watching and sleeping in
the same hour.”

Dudley looked as confused as one of his moul
and unbending temperament might well be, though
he stubbornly refused to understand the allusion of
his offended companion.

“Thou hast not discussed with the trooper from
over sea in vain,” he said, “since thou speakest
so wisely of watches and arms.”

“Truly he hath much schooled me in the matter.

“Umph! and what may be the amount of his
teaching?”

“That he who sleepeth at a postern should
neither talk too boldly of the enemy, nor expect
maidens to put too much trust—”

“In what, Faith?”

“Thou surely knowest I mean in his watchfulness.
My life on it, had one happened to pass at a
later hour than common near the night-post of than
gentle-spoken soldier, he would not have been found
like a sentinel of this household, in the second watch
of the night that is gone, dreaming of the good
things of the Madam's buttery.”

“Didst truly come then, girl?” said Eben, dropping
his voice, and equally manifesting his satisfaction
and his shame. “But thou knowest, Faith, that
the labor had fallen behind in behalf of the scouting
party, and that the toil of yesterday exceeded
that of our usual burthens. Nevertheless, I keep
the postern again to-night, from eight to twelve
and—”

“Will make a goodly rest of it, I doubt not. No
he who hath been so vigilant throughout the day
must needs tire of the task as night draws on
Fare thee well, wakeful Dudley; if thine eye
should open on the morrow, be thankful that the
maidens have not stitched thy garments to the
palisadoes!”

-- 111 --

[figure description] Page 111.[end figure description]

Notwithstanding the efforts of the young man to
detain her, the light-footed girl eluded his grasp,
and, bearing her burden towards the dairy, she
tripped along the path with a half-averted face,
in which triumph and repentance were already
struggling for the possession.

In the mean time, the leader of the messengers
and his military subordinate had a long and interesting
conference. When it was ended, the former
took his way to the apartment in which Mark
Heathcote was wont to pass those portions of his
time that were not occupied in his secret strivings
for the faith, or in exercise without, while superintending
the laborers in the fields. With some little
circumlocution, which was intended to mask his
real motives, the agent of the King announced his
intention to take his final departure that very
night.

“I felt it a duty, as one who has gained experience
in arms by some practice in the wars of
Europe,” he said, “to tarry in thy dwelling while
danger threatened from the lurking savage. It
would ill become soldiers to speak of their intentions;
but had the alarm in truth sounded, thou
wilt give faith, when I say that the block-house
would not have been lightly yielded! I shall make
report to them that sent me, that in Captain Mark
Heathcote, Charles hath a loyal subject, and the
Constitution a firm supporter. The rumors, of a
seemingly mistaken description, which have led us
hither, shall be contradicted; and doubtless it will
be found, that some accident hath given rise to the
deception. Should there be occasion to dwell on the
particulars of the late alarm, I trust the readiness
of my followers to do good service to one of the
King's subjects will not be overlooked.”

“It is the striving of an humble spirit to speak
nought evil of its fellows, and to conceal no good,”

-- 112 --

[figure description] Page 112.[end figure description]

returned the reserved Puritan. “If thou hast found
thy abode in my dwelling to thy liking, thou art
welcome; and if duty or pleasure calleth thee to
quit it, peace go with thee. It will be useful to
unite with us in asking that thy passage through
the wilderness may be unharmed; that he who
watcheth over the meanest of his creatures should
take thee in his especial keeping, and that the
savage heathen—”

“Dost think the savage out of his villages?” demanded
the messenger, with an indecorous rapidity,
that cut short the enumeration of the particular
blessings and dangers that his host thought it meet
to include in the leave-taking prayer.

“Thou surely hast not tarried with us to aid
in the defence, and yet feel it doubtful that thy
services might be useful!” observed Mark Heathcote,
drily.

“I would the Prince of Darkness had thee and
all the other diabolicals of these woods in his own
good gripe!” muttered the messenger between his
teeth; and then, as if guided by a spirit that could
not long be quelled, he assumed something more of
his unbridled and natural air, boldly declining to
join in the prayer on the plea of haste, and the
necessity of his looking in person to the movements
of his followers. “But this need not prevent thee,
worthy Captain, from pouring out an asking in our
behalf, while we are in the saddle,” he concluded;
“for ourselves, there remaineth much of thy previously-bestowed
pious aliment to be digested; though
we doubt not, that should thy voice be raised in
our behalf, while journeying along the first few
leagues of the forest, the tread of the hacks would
not be heavier, and, it is certainty, that we ourselves
should be none the worse for the favor.”

Then casting a glance of ill-concealed levity at
one of his followers, who had come to say that

-- 113 --

[figure description] Page 113.[end figure description]

their steeds awaited, he made the parting salutation
with an air, in which the respect that one like
the Puritan could scarce fail to excite, struggled
with his habitual contempt for things of a serious
character.

The family of Mark Heathcote, the lowest dependant
included, saw these strangers depart with
great inward satisfaction. Even the maidens, in
whom nature, in moments weaker than common,
had awakened some of the lighter vanities, were
gladly rid of gallants, who could not soothe their
ears with the unction of flattery, without frequently
giving great offence to their severe principles, by
light and irreverent allusions to things on which
they themselves were accustomed to think with
fitting awe. Eben Dudley could scarcely conceal
the chuckle with which he saw the party bury themselves
in the forest, though neither he, nor any of
the more instructed in such matters, believed they
incurred serious risk from their sudden enterprise.

The opinions of the scouts proved to be founded
on accurate premises. That and many a subsequent
night passed without alarm. The season continued
to advance, and the laborers pursued their toil to
its close, without another appeal to their courage,
or any additional reasons for vigilance. Whittal
Ring followed his colts with impunity, among the
recesses of the neighboring forests; and the herds
of the family went and came, as long as the weather
would permit them to range the woods, in regularity
and peace. The period of the alarm, and the visit
of the agents of the Crown, came to be food for
tradition; and during the succeeding winter, the
former often furnished motive of merriment around
the blazing fires that were so necessary to the
country and the season.

Still there existed in the family a living memorial
of the unusual incidents of that night. The captive

-- 114 --

[figure description] Page 114.[end figure description]

remained, long after the events which had placed
him in the power of the Heathcotes were beginning
to be forgotten.

A desire to quicken the seeds of spiritual regeneration,
which, however dormant they might be, old
Mark Heathcote believed to exist in the whole
family of man, and consequently in the young
heathen as well as in others, had become a sort of
ruling passion in the Puritan. The fashions and
mode of thinking of the times had a strong leaning
towards superstition; and it was far from difficult
for a man of his ascetic habits and exaggerated
doctrines, to believe that a special interposition had
cast the boy into his hands, for some hidden but
mighty purpose, that time in the good season would
not fail to reveal.

Notwithstanding the strong coloring of fanaticism
which tinged the characters of the religionists of
those days, they were rarely wanting in worldly
discretion. The agents they saw fit to employ, in
order to aid the more hidden purposes of Providence,
were in common useful and rational. Thus, while
Mark never forgot to summon the lad from his
prison at the hour of prayer, or to include an
especial asking in behalf of the ignorant heathen
in general and of this chosen youth in particular, he
hesitated to believe that a manifest miracle would
be exerted in his favor. That no blame might attach
to the portion of duty that was confided to human
means, he had recourse to the discreet agency of
kindness and unremitted care. But all attempts to
lure the lad into the habits of a civilized man, were
completely unsuccessful. As the severity of the
weather increased, the compassionate and thoughtful
Ruth endeavored to induce him to adopt the
garments that were found so necessary to the comfort
of men who were greatly his superiors in hardihood
and in strength. Clothes, decorated in a fashion

-- 115 --

[figure description] Page 115.[end figure description]

suited to the taste of an Indian, were considerately
provided, and entreaties and threats were both freely
used, with a view to make the captive wear them.
On one occasion, he was even forcibly clad by Eben
Dudley; and being brought, in the unwonted guise,
into the presence of old Mark, the latter offered
up an especial petition that the youth might be
made to feel the merits of this concession to the
principles of a chastened and instructed man. But
within an hour, the stout woodsman, who had been
made on the occasion so active an instrument of
civilization, announced to the admiring Faith that
the experiment was unsuccessful; or, as Eben somewhat
irreverently described the extraordinary effort
of the Puritan, “the heathen hath already resumed
his skin leggings and painted waist-cloth, notwithstanding
the Captain has strove to pin better
garments on his back, by virtue of a prayer that
might have clothed the nakedness of a whole tribe.”
In short, the result proved, in the case of this lad,
as similar experiments have since proved in so many
other instances, the difficulty of tempting one trained
in the freedom and ease of a savage, to consent
to admit of the restraints of a state of being that
is commonly thought to be so much superior. In
every instance in which the youthful captive had
liberty of choice, he disdainfully rejected the customs
of the whites; adhering with a singular, and
almost heroic pertinacity to the usages of his people
and his condition.

The boy was not kept in his bondage without extraordinary
care. Once, when trusted in the fields,
he had openly attempted to escape; nor was the
possession of his person recovered without putting
the speed of Eben Dudley and Reuben Ring to a
more severe trial, as was confessed by the athletic
young borderers themselves, than any they had
hitherto undergone. From that moment, he was

-- 116 --

[figure description] Page 116.[end figure description]

never permitted to pass the palisadoes. When duty
called the laborers afield, the captive was invariably
secured in his prison, where, as some compensation
for his confinement, he was supposed to enjoy the
benefit of long and familiar communication with
Mark Heathcote, who had the habit of passing
many hours of each day, and, not unfrequently
long portions of the night, too, within the retirement
of the block-house. During the time only
when the gates were closed, or when some one of
strength and activity sufficient to control his movements
was present, was the lad permitted to stroll,
at will, among the buildings of the border fortress.
This liberty he never failed to exercise, and often
in a manner that overcame the affectionate Ruth
with a painful excess of sensibility.

Instead of joining in the play of the other children,
the young captive would stand aloof, and regard
their sports with a vacant eye, or, drawing
near to the palisadoes, he often passed hours in
gazing wistfully at those endless forests in which he
first drew breath, and which probably contained all
that was most prized in the estimation of his simple
judgment. Ruth, touched to the heart by this silent
but expressive exhibition of suffering, endeavored
in vain to win his confidence, with a view of enticing
him into employments that might serve to relieve
his care. The resolute but still quiet boy would not
be lured into a forgetfulness of his origin. He appeared
to comprehend the kind intentions of his
gentle mistress, and frequently he even suffered
himself to be led by the mother into the centre of
her own joyous and merry offspring; but it was
only to look upon their amusements with his former
cold air, and to return, at the first opportunity, to
his beloved site at the pickets. Still there were
singular and even mysterious evidences of a growing
consciousness of the nature of the discourse of which

-- 117 --

[figure description] Page 117.[end figure description]

he was occasionally an auditor, that would have betrayed
greater familiarity with the language and
opinions of the inhabitants of the valley, than his
known origin and his absolute withdrawal from communication
could give reason to expect. This important
and inexplicable fact was proved by the
frequent and meaning glances of his dark eye, when
aught was uttered in his hearing that affected, ever
so remotely, his own condition; and, once or twice,
by the haughty gleamings of ferocity that escaped
him, when Eben Dudley was heard to vaunt the
prowess of the white men in their encounters with
the original owners of the country. The Puritan
did not fail to note these symptoms of a budding intelligence,
as the pledges of a fruit that would more
than reward his pious toil; and they served to furnish
a great relief to certain occasional repugnance,
which all his zeal could not entirely subdue, at being
the instrument of causing so much suffering to
one who, after all, had inflicted no positive wrong
on himself.

At the period of which we are writing, the climate
of these States differed materially from that which
is now known to their inhabitants. A winter in
the Province of Connecticut was attended by many
successive falls of snow, until the earth was entirely
covered with firmly compressed masses of the frozen
element. Occasional thaws and passing storms of
rain, that were driven away by a return of the clear
and cutting cold of the north-western gales, were
wont at times to lay a covering on the ground, that
was congealed to the consistency of ice, until men,
and not unfrequently beasts, and sometimes sleighs,
were seen moving on its surface, as on the bed of a
frozen lake. During the extremity of a season like
this, the hardy borderers, who could not toil in their
customary pursuits, were wont to range the forest
in quest of game, which, driven for food to known

-- 118 --

[figure description] Page 118.[end figure description]

resorting places in the woods, then fell most easily
prey to the intelligence and skill of such men as
Eben Dudley and Reuben Ring.

The youths never left the dwellings on these
hunts, without exciting the most touching interest
in their movements, on the part of the Indian boy.
On all such occasions, he would linger at the loops
of his prison throughout the day, listening intently
to the reports of the distant muskets, as they resounded
in the forest; and the only time, during
captivity of so many months, that he was ever see
to smile, was when he examined the grim look and
muscular claws of a dead panther, that had fallen
beneath the aim of Dudley, in one of these excursions
to the mountains. The compassion of all the
borderers was powerfully awakened in behalf of
the patient and dignified young sufferer, and gladly
would they have given their captive the pleasure
of joining in the chase, had not the task been one
that was far from easy of accomplishment. The
former of the woodsmen just mentioned had even
volunteered to lead him like a hound in a leash
but this was a species of degradation against which
it was certain that a young Indian, ambitious of the
character and jealous of the dignity of a warrior,
would have openly rebelled.

The quick interest of the observant Ruth had,
as it has been seen, early detected a growing intelligence
in the boy. The means by which one, who
never mingled in the employments, and who rarely
seemed to listen to the dialogues of the family
could come to comprehend the meaning of a language
that is found sufficiently difficult for a scholar
were however as much of a mystery to her, as to
all around her. Still, by the aid of that instinctive
tact which so often enlightens the mind of woman,
was she certain of the fact. Profiting by this knowledge,
she assumed the task of endeavoring to obtain

-- 119 --

[figure description] Page 119.[end figure description]

an honorary pledge from her protegé, that, if permitted
to join the hunters, he would return to the
valley at the end of the day. But though the language
of the woman was gentle as her own kind
nature, and her entreaties that he would give some
evidence of having comprehended her meaning
were zealous and oft repeated, not the smallest
symptom of intelligence, on this occasion, could be
extracted from her pupil. Disappointed, and not
without sorrow, Ruth had abandoned the compassionate
design in despair, when, on a sudden, the
old Puritan, who had been a silent spectator of her
fruitless efforts, announced his faith in the integrity
of the lad, and his intention to permit him to make
one of the very next party, that should leave the
habitations.

The cause of this sudden change in the hitherto
stern watchfulness of Mark Heathcote was, like so
many other of his impulses, a secret in his own bosom.
It has just been said, that during the time
Ruth was engaged in her kind and fruitless experiment
to extract some evidence of intelligence from
the boy, the Puritan was a close and interested observer
of her efforts. He appeared to sympathize
in her disappointment, but the weal of those unconverted
tribes who were to be led from the darkness
of their ways by the instrumentality of this youth,
was far too important to admit the thought of rashly
losing the vantage-ground he had gained, in the
gradually-expanding intellect of the boy, by running
the hazard of an escape. To all appearance, the
intention of permitting him to quit the defences had
therefore been entirely abandoned, when old Mark
so suddenly announced a change of resolution. The
conjectures on the causes of this unlooked-for determination
were exceedingly various. Some believed
that the Puritan had been favored with a
mysterious intimation of the pleasure of Providence,

-- 120 --

[figure description] Page 120.[end figure description]

in the matter; and others thought that, beginning
to despair of success in his undertaking, he was
willing to seek for a more visible manifestation of its
purposes, by hazarding the experiment of trusting
the boy to the direction of his own impulses. All
appeared to be of opinion that if the lad returned,
the circumstance might be set down to the intervention
of a miracle. Still, with his resolution once
taken, the purpose of Mark Heathcote remained
unchanged. He announced this unexpected intention,
after one of his long and solitary visits to the
block-house, where it is possible he had held a powerful
spiritual strife on the occasion; and, as the
weather was exceedingly favorable for such an object,
he commanded his dependants to prepare to
make the sortie on the following morning.

A sudden and an uncontrollable gleam of delight
flashed on the dark features of the captive, when
Ruth was about to place in his hands the bow of her
own son, and, by signs and words, she gave him to
understand that he was to be permitted to use it in
the free air of the forest. But the exhibition of pleasure
disappeared as quickly as it had been betrayed.
When the lad received the weapons, it was rather
with the manner of a hunter accustomed to their
use, than of one to whose hands they had so long
been strangers. As he left the gates of Wish-Ton-Wish,
the handmaidens of Ruth clustered about
him, in wondering interest; for it was strange to see
a youth so long guarded with jealous care, again
free and unwatched. Notwithstanding their ordinary
dependence on the secret lights and great wisdom
of the Puritan, there was a very general impression
that the lad, around whose presence there
was so much that was mysterious and of interest to
their own security, was now to be gazed upon for
the last time. The boy himself was unmoved to the
last. Still he paused, with his foot on the threshold

-- 121 --

[figure description] Page 121.[end figure description]

of the dwelling, and appeared to regard Ruth and
her young offspring with momentary concern. Then,
assuming the calm air of an Indian warrior, he suffered
his eye to grow cold and vacant, following with
a nimble step the hunters who were already passing
without the palisadoes.

CHAPTER VIII.

“Well, I am your theme: you have the start of me: I am dejected;
I am not able to answer the Welsh flannel; ignorance
itself is a plummet over me: use me as you will.”

Merry Wives of Windsor.

Poets, aided by the general longing of human
nature, have given a reputation to the Spring, that
it rarely merits. Though this imaginative class of
writers have said so much of its balmy airs and
odoriferous gales, we find it nearly everywhere the
most reluctant, churlish, and fickle of the four seasons.
It is the youth of the year, and, like that
probationary period of life, most fitted to afford the
promise of better things. There is a constant struggle
between reality and hope throughout the whole
of this slow-moving and treacherous period, which
has an unavoidable tendency to deceive. All that
is said of its grateful productions is fallacious, for
the earth is as little likely to yield a generous tribute
without the quickening influence of the summer
heats, as man is wont to bring forth commendable
fruits without the agency of a higher moral power
than any he possesses in virtue of his innate propensities.
On the other hand, the fall of the year
possesses a sweetness, a repose, and a consistency,
which may be justly likened to the decline of a
well-spent life. It is, in all countries and in every

-- 122 --

[figure description] Page 122.[end figure description]

climate, the period when physical and moral causes
unite to furnish the richest sources of enjoyment.
If the Spring is the time of hope, Autumn is the
season of fruition. There is just enough of change
to give zest to the current of existence, while there
is too little of vicissitude to be pregnant of disappointment.
Succeeding to the nakedness of Winter,
the Spring is grateful by comparison; while the
glories of Autumn are enjoyed, after the genial
powers of Summer have been lavishly expended.

In obedience to this great law of the earth, let
poets sing and fancy as they may, the Spring and
Autumn of America partake largely of the universally
distinctive characters of the rival seasons.
What Nature has done on this Continent, has not
been done niggardly; and, while we may boast of
a decline of the year that certainly rivals, and,
with few exceptions, eclipses the glories of most of
the climates of the old world, the opening months
rarely fail of equalizing the gifts of Providence, by
a very decided exhibition of all the disagreeable
qualities for which they are remarkable.

More than half a year had elapsed, between the
time when the Indian boy had been found lurking
in the valley of the Heathcotes, and that day when
he was first permitted to go into the forest, fettered
by no other restraint than the moral tie which the
owner of the valley either knew, or fancied, would
not fail to cause him to return to a bondage he had
found so irksome. It was April; but it was April
as the month was known a century ago in Connecticut,
and as it is even now so often found to disappoint
all expectations of that capricious season of
the year. The weather had returned suddenly and
violently to the rigor of winter. A thaw had been
succeeded by a storm of snow and sleet, and the interlude
of the spring-time of blossoms had terminated
with a biting gale from the north-west, which

-- 123 --

[figure description] Page 123.[end figure description]

had apparently placed a permanent seal on the lingering
presence of a second February.

On the morning that Content led his followers
into the forest, they issued from the postern clad in
coats of skin. Their lower limbs were protected
by the coarse leggings which they had worn in so
many previous hunts, during the past winter, if that
might be called past which had returned, weakened
but little of its keenness, and bearing all the outward
marks of January. When last seen, Eben
Dudley, the heaviest of the band, was moving firmly
on the crust of the snow, with a step as sure as if
he had trodden on the frozen earth itself. More
than one of the maidens declared, that though they
had endeavored to trace the footsteps of the hunters
from the palisadoes, it would have exceeded even
the sagacity of an Indian eye to follow their trail
along the icy path they travelled.

Hour after hour passed, without bringing tidings
from the chase. The reports of fire-arms had indeed
been occasionally heard, ringing among the
arches of the woods; and broken echoes were, for
some hours, rolling from one recess of the hills to
another. But even these signs of the presence of
the hunters gradually receded with the advance of
the day; and, long ere the sun had gained the meridian,
and its warmth, at that advanced season not
without power, was shed into the valley, the whole
range of the adjoining forest lay in its ordinary dull
and solemn silence.

The incident of the hunt, apart from the absence
of the Indian boy, was one of too common occurrence
to give birth to any particular motives of excitement.
Ruth quietly busied herself among her
women, and when the recollection of those who
were scouring the neighboring forest came at all to
her mind, it was coupled with the care with which
she was providing to administer to their comforts,

-- 124 --

[figure description] Page 124.[end figure description]

after the fatigue of a day of extraordinary personal
efforts. This was a duty never lightly performed.
Her situation was one eminently fitted to foster the
best affections of woman, since it admitted of few
temptations to yield to other than the most natural
feeling; she was, in consequence, known on all occasions
to exercise them with the devotedness of
her sex.

“Thy father and his companions will look on our
care with pleasure,” said the thoughtful matron to
her youthful image, as she directed a more than
usual provision of her larder to be got in readiness
for the hunters; “home is ever sweetest after toil
and exposure.”

“I doubt if Mark be not ready to faint with so
weary a march,” said the child already introduced
by the name of Martha; “he is young to go into
the woods, with scouters tall as great Dudley.”

“And the heathen,” added the little Ruth, “he is
young too as Mark, though more used to the toil. It
may be, mother, that he will never come to us
more!”

“That would grieve our venerable parent; for
thou knowest, Ruth, that he hath hopes of working
on the mind of the boy, until his savage nature shall
yield to the secret power. But the sun is falling behind
the hill, and the evening is coming in cool as
winter; go to the postern, and look out upon the
fields. I would know if there be any signs of thy
father and his party.”

Though Ruth gave this mandate to her daughter,
she did not the less neglect to exercise her own
faculties in the same grateful office. While the
children went, as they were ordered, to the outer
gate, the matron herself ascended to the lower
apartment of the block, and, from its different loops,
she took a long and anxious survey of the limited
prospect. The shadows of the trees, that lined the

-- 125 --

[figure description] Page 125.[end figure description]

western side of the view, were already thrown far
across the broad sheet of frozen snow, and the sudden
chill which succeeded the disappearance of the
sun announced the rapid approach of a night that
promised to support the severe character of the
past day. A freezing wind, which had brought with
it the cold airs of the great lakes, and which had
even triumphed over the more natural influence of
an April sun, had however fallen, leaving a temperature
not unlike that which dwells in the milder
seasons of the year among the glaciers of the upper
Alps.

Ruth was too long accustomed to such forest
scenes, and to such a “lingering of winter in the lap
of May,” to feel, on their account, any additional
uneasiness. But the hour had now arrived when
she had reason to look for the return of the hunters.
With the expectation of seeing their forms issuing
from the forest, came the anxiety which is an unavoidable
attendant of disappointment. The shadows
continued to deepen in the valley, until the gloom
thickened to the darkness of night, without bringing
any tidings from those without.

When a delay, which was unusual in the members
of a family circumstanced like that of the
Wish-Ton-Wish, came to be coupled with various
little observations that had been made during the
day, it was thought that reasons for alarm were beginning,
at each instant, to grow more plausible.
Reports of fire-arms had been heard, at an early
hour, from opposite points in the hills, and in a
manner too distinct to be mistaken for echoes; a
certain proof that the different members of the hunt
had separated in the forest. Under such circumstances,
it was not difficult for the imagination of
a wife and a mother, of a sister, or of her who
secretly confessed a still more tender interest in
some one of the hunters, to conjure to the

-- 126 --

[figure description] Page 126.[end figure description]

imagination the numberless dangers to which those who
were engaged in these expeditions were known to
be exposed.

“I doubt that the chase hath drawn them further
from the valley than is fitting for the hour and the
season,” observed Ruth to her maidens, who had
gathered in a group about her, at a point that over-looked
as much of the cleared land around the
buildings, as the darkness would allow; “the gravest
man becomes thoughtless as the unreflecting child,
when led by the eagerness of the pursuit. It is the
duty of older heads to think for those that want experience—
but into what indiscreet complaints are
my fears leading! It may be that my husband is
even now striving to collect his party, in order to
return. Hast any heard his conch sounding the
recall?”

“The woods are still as the day the first echo of
the axe was heard among the trees,” returned Faith.
“I did hear that which sounded like a strain of
brawling Dudley's songs, but it proved to be no more
than the lowing of one of his own oxen. Perchance
the animal misseth some of its master's care.”

“Whittal Ring hath looked to the beasts, and it
may not be that he hath neglected to feed, among
others, the creatures of Dudley. Thy mind is given
to levity, Faith, in the matter of this young man.
It is not seemly that one of thy years and sex should
manifest so great displeasure at the name of a youth,
who is of an honest nature, and of honest habits,
too, though he may appear ungainly to the eye, and
have so little favor with one of thy disposition.”

“I did not fashion the man,” said Faith, biting
her lip, and tossing her head; “nor is it aught to
me whether he be gainly or not. As to my favor,
when he asks it, the man shall not wait long to know
the answer. But is not yon figure the fellow himself,
Madam Heathcote?—here, coming in from the

-- 127 --

[figure description] Page 127.[end figure description]

eastern hill, along the orchard path. The form I
mean is just here; you may see it, at this moment,
turning by the bend in the brook.”

“There is one of a certainty, and it should be
one of our hunting party, too; and yet he doth not
seem to be of a size or of a gait like that of Eben
Dudley. Thou shouldst have a knowledge of thy
kindred, girl; to me it seemeth thy brother.”

“Truly, it may be Reuben Ring; still it hath
much of the swagger of the other, though their
stature be nearly equal—the manner of carrying
the musket is much the same with all the borderers
too—one cannot easily tell the form of man from a
stump by this light—and—yet do I think it will
prove to be the loitering Dudley.”

“Loiterer or not, he is the first to return from
this long and weary chase,” said Ruth, breathing
heavily, like one who regretted that the truth were
so. “Go thou to the postern, and admit him, girl. I
ordered bolts to be drawn, for I like not to leave a
fortress defended by a female garrison, at this hour,
with open gates. I will hie to the dwelling, and see
to the comforts of those who are a-hungered, since
it will not be long ere we shall have more of them
at hand.”

Faith complied, with affected indifference and
sufficient delay. By the time she had reached the
place of admission, a form was seen ascending the
acclivity, and taking the direction which led to the
same spot. In the next minute, a rude effort to enter
announced an arrival without.

“Gently, Master Dudley,” said the wilful girl,
who held the bolt with one hand, though she maliciously
delayed to remove it. “We know thou
art powerful of arm, and yet the palisadoes will
scarcely fall at thy touch. Here are no Sampsons
to pull down the pillars on our heads. Perhaps we

-- 128 --

[figure description] Page 128.[end figure description]

may not be disposed to give entrance to them who
stay abroad out of all season.”

“Open the postern, girl,” said Eben Dudley;
“after which, if thou hast aught to say, we shall
be better convenienced for discourse.”

“It may be that thy conversation is most agreeable
when heard from without. Render an account
of thy backslidings, throughout this day, penitent
Dudley, that I may take pity on thy weariness. But
lest hunger should have overcome thy memory, I
may serve to help thee to the particulars. The
first of thy offences was to consume more than thy
portion of the cold meats; the second was to suffer
Reuben Ring to kill the deer, and for thee to claim
it; and a third was the trick thou hast of listening
so much to thine own voice, that even the beasts
fled thee, from dislike of thy noise.”

“Thou triflest unseasonably, Faith; I would
speak with the Captain, without delay.”

“It may be that he is better employed than to
desire such company. Thou art not the only strange
animal by many who hath roared at the gate of
Wish-Ton-Wish.”

“Have any come within the day, Faith?” demanded
the borderer, with the interest such an
event would be likely to create in the mind of one
who habitually lived in so great retirement.

“What sayest thou to a second visit from the
gentle-spoken stranger? he who favored us with so
much gay discourse, the by-gone fall of the year.
That would be a guest fit to receive! I warrant me
his knock would not be heard a second time.”

“The gallant had better beware the moon!” exclaimed
Dudley, striking the but of his musket
against the ice with so much force as to cause his
companion to start, in alarm. “What fool's errand
hath again brought him to prick his nag so deep
into the forest?”

-- 129 --

[figure description] Page 129.[end figure description]

“Nay, thy wit is ever like the unbroken colt, a
headstrong run-away. I said not, in full meaning.
that the man had come; I only invited thee to give
an opinion in the event that he should arrive unexpectedly,
though I am far from certain that any
here ever expect to see his face again.”

“This is foolish prating,” returned the youth,
provoked at the exhibition of jealousy into which
he had been incautiously betrayed. “I tell thee to
withdraw the bolt, for I have great need to speak
with the Captain, or with his son.”

“Thou mayst open thy mind to the first, if he
will listen to what thou hast to say,” returned the
girl, removing the impediment to his entrance;
“but thou wilt sooner get the ear of the other by
remaining at the gate, since he has not yet come in
from the forest.”

Dudley recoiled a pace, and repeated her words
in the tone of one who admitted a feeling of alarm
to mingle with his surprise.

“Not in from the forest!” he said; “surely there
are none abroad, now that I am home!”

“Why dost say it? I have put my jibes upon
thee more in payment of ancient transgressions
than for any present offence. So far from being
last, thou art the first of the hunters we have yet
seen. Go in to the Madam without delay, and tell
her of the danger, if any there be, that we take
speedy measures for our safety.”

“That would do little good, truly,” muttered the
borderer, like one musing. “Stay thou here, and
watch the postern, Faith; I will back to the woods;
for a timely word, or a signal blown from my conch,
might quicken their footsteps.”

What madness hath beset thee, Dudley! Thou
wouldst not go into the forest again, at this hour
and alone, if there be reason for fear! Come farther
within the gate, man, that I may draw the bolt;

-- 130 --

[figure description] Page 130.[end figure description]

the Madam will wonder that we tarry here so
long.”

“Ha!—I hear feet moving in the meadow; I
know it by the creaking of the snow; the others
are not lagging.”

Notwithstanding the apparent certainty of the
young man, instead of going forth to meet his friends,
he withdrew a step, and with his own hand drew
the bolt that Faith had just desired might be fastened;
taking care at the same time to let fall a
swinging bar of wood, which gave additional security
to the fastenings of the postern. His apprehensions,
if any such had induced this caution, were
however unnecessary; for ere he had time to make,
or even to reflect on any further movement, admission
was demanded in the well-known voice of the
son of him who owned the valley. The bustle of
the arrival, for with Content entered a group of
companions loaded with venison, put an end to the
dialogue. Faith seized the opportunity to glide
away in the obscurity, in order to announce to her
mistress that the hunters had returned—an office
that she performed without entering at all into the
particulars of her own interview with Eben Dudley.

It is needless to dwell on the satisfaction with
which Ruth received her husband and son, after
the uneasiness she had just suffered. Though the
severe manners of the Province admitted of no violent
exhibition of passing emotions, secret joy was
reigning in the mild eyes and glowing about the
flushed cheeks of the discreet matron, while she
personally officiated in the offices of the evening
meal.

The party had returned teeming with no extra-ordinary
incidents; nor did they appear to be disturbed
with any of that seriousness of air which
had so unequivocally characterized the deportment
of him who had preceded them. On the contrary,

-- 131 --

[figure description] Page 131.[end figure description]

each had his quiet tale to relate, now perhaps at
the expense of a luckless companion, and sometimes
in order that no part of his own individual skill, as
a hunter, should be unknown. The delay was accounted
for, as similar delays are commonly explained,
by distance and the temptations of an unusually
successful chase. As the appetites of those
who had passed the day in the exciting toil were
keen and the viands tempting, the first half-hour
passed quickly, as all such half-hours are wont to
pass, in garrulous recitals of personal exploits, and
of the hairbreadth escapes of deer, which, had
fortune not been fickle, should have now been
present as trophies of the skill of the hand by
which they fell. It was only after personal vanity
was sufficiently appeased, and when the hunger even
of a border-man could achieve no more, that the
hunters began to look about them with a diminished
excitement, and to discuss the events of the day
with a fitting calmness, and with a discretion more
suited to their ordinary self-command.

“We lost the sound of thy conch, wandering
Dudley, as we fell into the deep hollow of the
mountain,” said Content, in a pause of the discourse;
“since which time, neither eye nor ear of any has
had trace of thy movements, until we met thee at
the postern, stationed like a looker-out on his watch.”

The individual addressed had mingled in none
of the gaiety of the hour. While others fed freely,
or joined in the quiet joke, which could escape the
lips of even men chastened as his companions, Eben,
Dudley had tasted sparingly of the viands. Nor had
the muscles of his hard countenance once relaxed
in a smile. A gravity and silence so extraordinary,
in one so little accustomed to exhibit either quality,
did not fail to attract attention. It was universally
ascribed to the circumstance that he had returned
empty-handed from the hunt; and now that one

-- 132 --

[figure description] Page 132.[end figure description]

having authority had seen fit to give such a direction
to the discourse, the imaginary delinquent was
not permitted to escape unscathed.

“The butcher had little to do with this day's
killing,” said one of the young men; “as a punishment
for his absence from the slaughter, he should
be made to go on the hill and bring in the two bucks
he will find hanging from a maple sapling near to
the drinking spring. Our meat should pass through
his hands in some fashion or other, else will it lack
savor.”

“Ever since the death of the straggling wether,
the trade of Eben hath been at a stand,” added
another; “the down-hearted youth seems like one
ready to give up his calling to the first stranger
that shall ask it.”

“Creatures which run at large prove better
mutton than the stalled wether,” continued a third;
“and thereby custom was getting low before this
hunt. Beyond a doubt, he has a full supply for all
who shall be likely to seek venison in his stall.”

Ruth observed that the countenance of her husband
grew grave, at these allusions to an event he
had always seemed to wish forgotten; and she interposed
with a view to lead the minds of those who
listened, back to matter more fitting to be discussed.

“How is this?” she exclaimed in haste; “hath
the stout Dudley lost any of his craft? I have never
counted with greater certainty on the riches of the
table, than when he hath been sent among the hills
for the fat deer, or the tender turkey. It would
much grieve me to learn that he beginneth to lack
the hunter's skill.”

“The man is getting melancholy with over-feeding,”
muttered the wilful tones of one busied among
the vessels, in a distant part of the room. “He
taketh his exercise alone, in order that none need

-- 133 --

[figure description] Page 133.[end figure description]

discover the failing. I think he be much disposed to
go over sea, in order to become a trooper.”

Until now, the subject of these mirthful attacks
had listened like one too confident of his established
reputation to feel concern; but at the sound of the
last speaker's voice, he grasped the bushy covering
of one entire cheek in his hand, and turning a reproachful
and irritated glance at the already half-repentant
eye of Faith Ring, all his natural spirit
returned.

“It may be that my skill hath left me,” he said,
“and that I love to be alone, rather than to be
troubled with the company of some that might
readily be named, no reference being had to such
gallants as ride up and down the colony, putting
evil opinions into the thoughts of honest men's
daughters; but why is Eben Dudley to bear all the
small shot of your humors, when there is another
who, it might seem, hath strayed even further from
your trail than he?”

Eye sought eye, and each youth by hasty glances
endeavored to read the countenances of all the
rest in company, in order to learn who the absentee
might be. The young borderers shook their heads, as
the features of every well-known face were recognised,
and a general exclamation of denial was
about to break from their lips, when Ruth exclaimed—

“Truly, the Indian is wanting!”

So constant was the apprehension of danger from
the savages, in the breasts of those who dwelt on
that exposed frontier, that every man arose at the
words, by a sudden and common impulse, and each
individual gazed about him in a surprise that was a
little akin to dismay.

“The boy was with us when we quitted the forest,”
said Content, after a moment of death-like
stillness. “I spoke to him in commendation of his

-- 134 --

[figure description] Page 134.[end figure description]

activity, and of the knowledge he had shown in
beating up the secret places of the deer; though
there is little reason to think my words were understood.”

“And were it not sinful to take such solemn evidence
in behalf of so light a matter, I could be qualified
on the Book itself, that he was at my elbow as
we entered the orchard,” added Reuben Ring, a
man renowned in that little community for the accuracy
of his vision.

“And I will make oath or declaration of any sort,
lawful or conscientious, that he came not within the
postern when it was opened by my own hand,” returned
Eben Dudley. “I told off the number of the
party as you passed, and right sure am I that no red
skin entered.”

“Canst thou tell us aught of the lad?” demanded
Ruth, quick to take the alarm on a subject that had
so long exercised her care, and given food to her
imagination.

“Nothing. With me he hath not been since the
turn of the day. I have not seen the face of living
man from that moment, unless in truth one of mysterious
character, whom I met in the forest, may
be so called.”

The manner in which the woodsman spoke was
too serious and too natural, not to give birth in his
auditors to some of his own gravity. Perhaps the
appearance of the Puritan, at that moment, aided
in quieting the levity that had been uppermost in
the minds of the young men; for, it is certain, that
when he entered, a deeper and a general curiosity
came over the countenances of all present. Content
waited a moment in respectful silence, till his father
had moved slowly through the circle, and then he
prepared himself to look further into an affair that
began to assume the appearance of matter worthy
of investigation.

-- 135 --

CHAPTER IX.

[figure description] Page 135.[end figure description]



“Last night of all,
When yon same star, that's westward from the pole,
Had made its course to illume that part of heaven
Where now it burns, Marcellus, and myself,
The bell then beating one—”
“Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again!”
Hamlet.

It is our duty, as faithful historians of the events
recorded in this homely legend, to conceal no circumstance
which may throw the necessary degree
of light on its incidents, nor any opinion that may
serve for the better instruction of the reader in the
characters of its actors. In order that this obligation
may be discharged with sufficient clearness and
precision, it has now become necessary to make a
short digression from the immediate action of the
tale.

Enough has been already shown, to prove that
the Heathcotes lived at a time, and in a country,
where very quaint and peculiar religious dogmas
had the ascendancy. At a period when visible manifestations
of the goodness of Providence, not only
in spiritual but in temporal gifts, were confidently
expected and openly proclaimed, it is not at all surprising
that more evil agencies should be thought
to exercise their power in a manner that is somewhat
opposed to the experience of our own age. As
we have no wish, however, to make these pages the
medium of a theological or metaphysical controversy,
we shall deal tenderly with certain important events,
that most of the writers, who were cotemporary
with the facts, assert took place in the Colonies of
New-England, at and about the period of which we
are now writing. It is sufficiently known that the

-- 136 --

[figure description] Page 136.[end figure description]

art of witchcraft, and one even still more diabolical
and direct in its origin, were then believed to flourish,
in that quarter of the world, to a degree that
was probably in a very just proportion to the neglect
with which most of the other arts of life were
treated.

There is so much grave and respectable authority,
to prove the existence of these evil influences,
that it requires a pen hardier than any we wield,
to attack them without a suitable motive. “Flashy
people,” says the learned and pious Cotton Mather,
Doctor of Divinity and Fellow of the Royal Society,
“may burlesque these things; but when hundreds
of the most sober people, in a country where they
have as much mother wit, certainly, as the rest of
mankind, know them to be true, nothing but the absurd
and froward spirit of Sadducism can question them.”
Against this grave and credited authority, we pretend
to raise no question of scepticism. We submit
to the testimony of such a writer as conclusive,
though as credulity is sometimes found to be bounded
by geographical limits, and to possess something of a
national character, it may be prudent to refer certain
readers, who dwell in the other hemisphere,
to the Common Law of England, on this interesting
subject, as it is ingeniously expounded by Keeble
and approved by the twelve judges of that highly
civilized and enlightened island. With this brief
reference to so grave authorities, in support of what
we have now to offer, we shall return to the matter
of the narrative, fully trusting that its incidents
will throw some additional light on the subject of so
deep and so general concern.

Content waited respectfully until his father had
taken his seat, and then perceiving that the venerable
Puritan had no immediate intention of moving
personally in the affair, he commenced the examination
of his dependant as follows; opening the

-- 137 --

[figure description] Page 137.[end figure description]

matter with a seriousness that was abundantly warranted
by the gravity of the subject itself.

“Thou hast spoken of one met in the forest,” he
said; “proceed with the purport of that interview,
and tell us of what manner of man it was.”

Thus directly interrogated, Eben Dudley disposed
himself to give a full and satisfactory answer. First
casting a glance around, so as to embrace every
curious and eager countenance, and letting his look
rest a little longer than common on a half-interested,
half-incredulous, and a somewhat ironical dark eye,
that was riveted on his own from a distant corner
of the room, he commenced his statement as follows:

“It is known to you all,” said the borderer, “that
when we had gained the mountain-top, there was a
division of our numbers, in such a fashion that each
hunter should sweep his own range of the forest, in
order that neither moose, deer, nor bear, might have
reasonable chance of escape. Being of large frame,
and it may be of swifter foot than common, the
young Captain saw fit to command Reuben Ring to
flank one end of the line, and a man, who is nothing
short of him in either speed, or strength, to do the
same duty on the other. There was nothing particularly
worthy of mention that took place on the
flank I held, for the first two hours; unless indeed
the fact, that three several times did I fall upon a
maze of well-beaten deer-tracks, that as often led
to nothing—”

“These are signs common to the woods, and they
are no more than so many proofs that the animal
has its sports, like any other playful creature, when
not pressed by hunger or by danger,” quietly observed
Content.

“I pretend not to take those deceitful tracks
much into the account,” resumed Dudley; “but
shortly after losing the sound of the conchs, I

-- 138 --

[figure description] Page 138.[end figure description]

roused a noble buck from his lair beneath a thicket
of hemlocks, and having the game in view, the
chase led me wide-off towards the wilderness, it may
have been the distance of two leagues.”

“And in all that time, had you no fitting moment
to strike the beast?”

“None whatever; nor, if opportunity had been
given, am I bold to say that hand of mine would
have been hardy enough to aim at its life.”

“Was there aught in the deer, that a hunter
should seek to spare it?”

“There was that in the deer, that might bring a
Christian man to much serious reflection.”

“Deal more openly with the nature and appearance
of the animal,” said Content, a little less tranquil
than usual; while the youths and maidens
placed themselves in attitudes still more strongly
denoting attention.

Dudley pondered an instant, and then he commenced
a less equivocal enumeration of what he
conceived to be the marvels of his tale.

“Firstly,” he said, “there was no trail, neither
to nor from the spot where the creature had made
its lair; secondly, when roused, it took not the
alarm, but leaped sportingly ahead, taking sufficient
care to be beyond the range of musket, without
ever becoming hid from the eye; and lastly its
manner of disappearance was as worthy of mention
as any other of its movements.”

“And in what manner didst thou lose the creature?”

“I had gotten it upon the crest of a hillock,
where true eye and steady hand might make sure
of a buck of much smaller size, when—didst hear
aught that might be accounted wonderful, at a
season of the year when the snows are still lying on
the earth?”

The auditors regarded one another curiously, each

-- 139 --

[figure description] Page 139.[end figure description]

endeavoring to recall some unwonted sound which
might sustain a narrative that was fast obtaining
the seducing interest of the marvellous.

“Wast sure, Charity, that the howl we heard
from the forest was the yell of the beaten hound?”
demanded a handmaiden of Ruth, of a blue-eyed
companion, who seemed equally well disposed to
contribute her share of evidence in support of any
exciting legend.

“It might have been other,” was the answer;
“though the hunters do speak of their having beaten
the pup for restiveness.”

“There was a tumult among the echoes, that
sounded like the noises which follow the uproar of
a falling tree,” said Ruth, thoughtfully. “I remember
to have asked if it might not be that some
fierce beast had caused a general discharge of the
musketry, but my father was of opinion that death
had undermined some heavy oak.”

“At what hour might this have happened?”

“It was past the turn of the day; for it was at
the moment I bethought me of the hunger of those
who had toiled since light, in the hills.”

“That then was the sound I mean. It came not
from falling tree, but was uttered in the air, far
above all forests. Had it been heard by one better
skilled in the secrets of nature—”

“He would say it thundered;” interrupted Faith
Ring, who, unlike most of the other listeners, manifested
little of the quality which was expressed
by her name. “Truly, Eben Dudley hath done
marvels in this hunt; he hath come in with a thunderbolt
in his head, instead of a fat buck on his
shoulders!”

“Speak reverently, girl, of that thou dost not
comprehend,” said Mark Heathcote, with stern authority.
“Marvels are manifested equally to the
ignorant and to the learned; and although

-- 140 --

[figure description] Page 140.[end figure description]

vainminded pretenders to philosophy affirm, that the
warring of the elements is no more than nature
working out its own purification, yet do we know,
from all ancient authorities, that other manifestations
are therein exhibited. Satan may have control
over the magazines of the air; he can `let off
the ordnance of Heaven.' That `the Prince of the
Powers of Darkness hath as good a share in chemistry
as goes to the making of Aurum Fulminans,'
is asserted by one of the wisest writers of our age.”

From this declaration, and more particularly from
the learning discovered in the Puritan's speech,
there was no one so hardy as to dissent. Faith was
glad to shrink back among the bevy of awe-struck
maidens; while Content, after a sufficiently respectful
pause, invited the woodsman, who was yet
teeming with the most important part of his communication,
to proceed.

“While my eye was searching for the lightning,
which should in reason have attended that thunder,
had it been uttered in the manner of nature,
the buck had vanished; and when I rushed upon
the hillock, in order to keep the game in view, a
man mounting its opposite side came so suddenly
upon me, that our muskets were at each other's
breasts before either had time for speech.”

“What manner of man was he?”

“So far as human judgment might determine, he
seemed a traveller, who was endeavoring to push
through the wilderness, from the towns below to
the distant settlements of the Bay Province; but I
account it exceeding wonderful, that the trail of a
leaping buck should have brought us together in so
unwonted a manner!”

“And didst thou see aught of the deer, after that
encounter?”

“In the first hurry of the surprise, it did certainly
appear as if an animal were bounding along the

-- 141 --

[figure description] Page 141.[end figure description]

wood into a distant thicket; but it is known how
readily one may be led by seeming probabilities
into a false conclusion, and so I account that glimpse
as delusion. No doubt, the animal, having done
that which it was commissioned to perform, did then
and there disappear, in the manner I have named.”

“It might have been thus. And the stranger—
had you discourse with him, before parting?”

“We tarried together a short hour. He related
much marvellous matter of the experiences of the
people, near the sea. According to the testimony
of the stranger, the Powers of Darkness have been
manifested in the Provinces in a hideous fashion.
Numberless of the believers have been persecuted
by the invisibles, and greatly have they endured
suffering, both in soul and body.”

“Of all this have I witnessed surprising instances,
in my day,” said Mark Heathcote, breaking the
awful stillness that succeeded the annunciation of
so heavy a visitation on the peace of the Colony,
with his deep-toned and imposing voice. “Did he,
with whom you conferred, enter into the particulars
of the trials?”

“He spoke also of certain other signs that are
thought to foretell the coming of trouble. When I
named the weary chase that I had made, and the
sound which came from the air, he said that these
would be accounted trifles in the towns of the Bay,
where the thunder and its lightnings had done much
evil work, the past season; Satan having especially
shown his spite, by causing them to do injury to the
houses of the Lord.”

“There has long been reason to think that the
pilgrimage of the righteous, into these wilds, will
be visited by some fierce opposition of those envious
natures, which, fostering evil themselves, cannot
brook to look upon the toiling of such as strive to
keep the narrow path. We will now resort to the

-- 142 --

[figure description] Page 142.[end figure description]

only weapon it is permitted us to wield in this controversy,
but which, when handled with diligence
and zeal, never fails to lead to victory.”

So saying, without waiting to hear more of the
tale of Eben Dudley, old Mark Heathcote arose,
and assuming the upright attitude usual among the
people of his sect, he addressed himself to prayer.
The grave and awe-struck but deeply confiding
congregation imitated his example, and the lips of
the Puritan had parted in the act of utterance,
when a low, faltering note, like that produced by a
wind instrument, rose on the outer air, and penetrated
to the place where the family was assembled.
A conch was suspended at the postern, in readiness
to be used by any of the family whom accident or
occupation should detain beyond the usual hour of
closing the gates; and both by the direction and
nature of this interruption, it would seem that an
applicant for admission stood at the portal. The effect
on the auditors was general and instantaneous.
Notwithstanding the recent dialogue, the young men
involuntarily sought their arms, while the startled
females huddled together like a flock of trembling
and timid deer.

“There is, of a certainty, a signal from without!”
Content at length observed, after waiting to suffer
the sounds to die away among the angles of the
buildings. “Some hunter, who hath strayed from
his path, claimeth hospitality.”

Eben Dudley shook his head like one who dissented,
but, having with all the other youths grasped
his musket, he stood as undetermined as the rest
concerning the course it was proper to pursue. It
is uncertain how long this indecision might have
continued, had no further summons been given; but
he without appeared too impatient of delay to suffer
much time to be lost. The conch sounded again,
and with far better success than before. The blast

-- 143 --

[figure description] Page 143.[end figure description]

was longer, louder, and bolder, than that which had
first pierced the walls of the dwelling, rising full
and rich on the air, as though one well practised in
the use of the instrument had placed lips to the
shell.

Content would scarcely have presumed to disobey
a mandate coming from his father, had it been little
in conformity with his own intentions. But second
thoughts had already shown him the necessity of
decision, and he was in the act of motioning to
Dudley and Reuben Ring to follow, when the Puritan
bade him look to the matter. Making a sign
for the rest of the family to remain where they
were, and arming himself with a musket which had
more than once that day been proved to be of certain
aim, he led the way to the postern which has
already been so often mentioned.

“Who sounds at my gate?” demanded Content,
when he and his followers had gained a position,
under cover of a low earthen mound erected expressly
for the purpose of commanding the entrance;
“who summons a peaceful family at this hour of
the night, to their outer defences?”

“One who hath need of what he asketh, or he
would not disturb thy quiet,” was the answer.
“Open the postern, Master Heathcote, without fear;
it is a brother in the faith, and a subject of the
same laws, that asketh the boon.”

“Here is truly a Christian man without,” said
Content, hurrying to the postern; which, without a
moment's delay, he threw freely open, saying as he
did so, “enter of Heaven's mercy, and be welcome
to that we have to bestow.”

A tall, and, by his tread, a heavy man, wrapped
in a riding-cloak, bowed to the greeting, and immediately
passed beneath the low lintel. Every
eye was keenly fastened on the stranger, who, after
ascending the acclivity a short distance, paused,

-- 144 --

[figure description] Page 144.[end figure description]

while the young men, under their master's orders,
carefully and scrupulously renewed the fastenings of
the gate. When bolts and bars had done their office,
Content joined his guest; and after making another
fruitless effort, by the feeble light which fell from
the stars, to scan his person, he said, in his own
meek and quiet manner—

“Thou must have great need of warmth and
nourishment. The distance from this valley to the
nearest habitation is wearisome, and one who hath
journeyed it, in a season like this, may well be nigh
fainting. Follow, and deal with that we have to
bestow as freely as if it were thine own.”

Although the stranger manifested none of that
impatience which the heir of the Wish-Ton-Wish
appeared to think one so situated might in all reason
feel, thus invited he did not hesitate to comply.
As he followed in the footsteps of his host, his tread,
however, was leisurely and dignified; and once or
twice, when the other half delayed in order to
make some passing observation of courtesy, he betrayed
no indiscreet anxiety to enter on those personal
indulgences which might in reality prove so
grateful to one who had journeyed far in an inclement
season, and along a road where neither
dwelling nor security invited repose.

“Here is warmth and a peaceful welcome,” pursued
Content, ushering his guest into the centre of
a group of fearfully anxious faces. “In a little time,
other matters shall be added to thy comfort.”

When the stranger found himself under the glare
of a powerful light, and confronted to so many
curious and wondering eyes, for a single instant he
hesitated. Then stepping calmly forward, he cast
the short riding-cloak, which had closely muffled
his features, from his shoulders, and discovered the
severe eye, the stern lineaments, and the athletic
form of him who had once before been known to

-- 145 --

[figure description] Page 145.[end figure description]

enter the doors of Wish-Ton-Wish with little warning,
and to have quitted them so mysteriously.

The Puritan had arisen, with quiet and grave
courtesy, to receive his visiter; but obvious, powerful,
and extraordinary interest gleamed about his
usually subdued visage, when, as the features of
the other were exposed to view, he recognised the
person of the man who advanced to meet him.

“Mark Heathcote,” said the stranger, “my visit
is to thee. It may, or it may not, prove longer than
the last, as thou shalt receive my tidings. Affairs
of the last moment demand that there should be
little delay in hearing that which I have to offer.”

Notwithstanding the excess and nature of the
surprise which the veteran Mark had certainly betrayed,
it endured just long enough to allow those
wondering eyes, which were eagerly devouring all
that passed, to note its existence. Then, the subdued
and characteristic manner, which in general
marked his air, instantly returned, and with a quiet
gesture, like that which friends use in moments of
confidence and security, he beckoned to the other
to follow to an inner room. The stranger complied,
making a slight bow of recognition to Ruth, as he
passed her on the way to the apartment chosen for
an interview that was evidently intended to be
private.

-- 146 --

CHAPTER X.

[figure description] Page 146.[end figure description]

Mar. Shall I strike at it with my partizan?
Hor. Do, if it will not stand.
Mar. 'Tis here!
Hor. 'Tis here!
Mar. 'Tis gone!”

Hamlet.

The time that this unexpected visiter stood uncloaked
and exposed to recognition, before the eyes
of the curious group in the outer room, did not much
exceed a minute. Still it was long enough to allow
men who rarely overlooked the smallest peculiarity
of dress or air, to note some of the more distinguishing
accompaniments of his attire. The heavy horseman's
pistols, once before exhibited, were in his
girdle, and young Mark got a glimpse of a silver-handled
dagger which had pleased his eye before
that night. But the passage of his grandfather and
the stranger from the room prevented the boy from
determining whether it was entirely of the same
fashion as that, which, rather as a memorial of by-gone
scenes than for any service that it might now
be expected to perform, hung above the bed of the
former.

“The man hath not yet parted with his arms!”
exclaimed the quick-sighted youth, when he found
that every other tongue continued silent. “I would
he may now leave them with my grand'ther, that
I may chase the skulking Wampanoag to his hiding—”

“Hot-headed boy! Thy tongue is too much given
to levity,” said Ruth, who had not only resumed her
seat, but the light employment that had been interrupted
by the blast at the gate, with a calmness of

-- 147 --

[figure description] Page 147.[end figure description]

mien that did not fail in some degree to reassure
her maidens. “Instead of cherishing the lessons of
peace that are taught thee, thy unruly thoughts
are ever bent on strife.”

“Is there harm in wishing to be armed with a
weapon suited to my years, that I may do service
in beating down the power of our enemies; and perhaps
aid something, too, in affording security to my
mother?”

“Thy mother hath no fears,” returned the matron
gravely, while grateful affection prompted a
kind but furtive glance towards the high-spirited
though sometimes froward lad. “Reason hath already
taught me the folly of alarm, because one
has knocked at our gate in the night-season. Lay
aside thy arms, men; you see that my husband no
longer clings to the musket. Be certain that his eye
will give us warning, when there shall be danger at
hand.”

The unconcern of her husband was even more
strikingly true, than the simple language of his wife
would appear to convey. Content had not only laid
aside his weapon, but he had resumed his seat near
the fire, with an air as calm, as assured, and it might
have seemed to one watchfully observant, as understanding,
as her own. Until now, the stout Dudley
had remained leaning on his piece, immovable and
apparently unconscious as a statue. But, following
the injunctions of one he was accustomed to obey,
he placed the musket against the wall, with the care
of a hunter, and then running a hand through his
shaggy locks, as though the action might quicken
ideas that were never remarkably active, he bluntly
exclaimed—

“An armed hand is well in these forests, but an
armed heel is not less wanting to him who would
push a roadster from the Connecticut to the Wish-Ton-Wish,
between a rising and a setting sun! The

-- 148 --

[figure description] Page 148.[end figure description]

stranger no longer journeys in the saddle, as is plain
by the sign that his boot beareth no spur. When he
worried, by dint of hard pricking, the miserable
hack that proved food for the wolves, through
the forest, he had better appointments. I saw the
bones of the animal no later than this day. They
have been polished by fowls and frost, till the driven
snow of the mountains is not whiter!”

Meaning and uneasy, but hasty glances of the eye
were exchanged between Content and Ruth, as Eben
Dudley thus uttered the thoughts which had been
suggested by the unexpected return of the stranger.

“Go you to the look-out at the western palisadoes,”
said the latter; “and see if perchance the
Indian may not be lurking near the dwellings,
ashamed of his delay, and perchance fearful of calling
us to his admission. I cannot think that the child
means to desert us, with no sign of kindness, and
without leave-taking.”

“I will not take upon me to say, how much
or how little of ceremony the youngster may fancy
to be due to the master of the valley and his kin;
but if not gone already, the snow will not melt more
quietly in the thaw, than the lad will one day disappear.
Reuben Ring, thou hast an eye for light
or darkness; come forth with me, that no sign escape
us. Should thy sister, Faith, make one of our
party, it would not be easy for the red-skin to pass
the clearing without a hail.”

“Go to,” hurriedly answered the female; “it is
more womanly that I tarry to see to the wants of him
who hath journeyed far and hard, since the rising
of the sun. If the boy pass thy vigilance, wakeful
Dudley, he will have little cause to fear that of
others.”

Though Faith so decidedly declined to make one
of the party, her brother complied without reluctance.
The young men were about to quit the place

-- 149 --

[figure description] Page 149.[end figure description]

together; when the latch, on which the hand of
Dudley was already laid, rose quietly without aid
from his finger, the door opened, and the object of
their intended search glided past them, and took his
customary position in one of the more retired corners
of the room. There was so much of the ordinary,
noiseless manner of the young captive in this
entrance, that for a moment they who witnessed the
passage of his dark form across the apartment, were
led to think the movement no more than the visit
he was always permitted to make at that hour. But
recollection soon came, and with it not only the suspicious
circumstance of his disappearance, but the
inexplicable manner of his admission within the
gates.

“The pickets must be looked to!” exclaimed
Dudley, the instant a second look assured him that
his eyes in truth beheld him who had been missing.
“The place that a stripling can scale, might well
admit a host.”

“Truly,” said Content, “this needeth explanation.
Hath not the boy entered when the gate was
opened for the stranger?—Here cometh one that
may speak to the fact!”

“It is so,” said the individual named, who re-entered
from the inner room in season to hear the nature
of the remark. “I found this native child near
thy gate, and took upon me the office of a Christian
man to bid him welcome. Certain am I, that one,
kind of heart and gently disposed, like the mistress
of this family, will not turn him away in anger.”

“He is no stranger at our fire, or at our board,”
said Ruth; “had it been otherwise, thou wouldst
have done well.”

Eben Dudley looked incredulous. His mind had
been powerfully exercised that day with visions of
the marvellous, and, of a certainty, there was some

-- 150 --

[figure description] Page 150.[end figure description]

reason to distrust the manner in which the re-appearance
of the youth had been made.

“It will be well to look to the fastenings,” he
muttered, “lest others, less easy to dispose of, should
follow. Now that invisible agencies are at work in
the Colony, one may not sleep too soundly!”

“Then go thou to the look-out, and keep the
watch, till the clock shall strike the hour of midnight;”
said the Puritan, who uttered the command
in a manner to show that he was in truth moved
by considerations far deeper than the vague apprehensions
of his dependant. “Ere sleep overcome
thee, another shall be ready for the relief.”

Mark Heathcote seldom spoke, but respectful
silence permitted the lowest of his syllables to be
audible. On the present occasion, when his voice
was first heard, such a stillness came over all in
presence, that he finished the sentence amid the
nearly imperceptible breathings of the listeners.
In this momentary but death-like quiet, there arose
a blast from the conch at the gate, that might have
seemed an echo of that which had so lately startled
the already-excited inmates of the dwelling. At the
repetition of sounds so unwonted, all sprang to their
feet, but no one spoke. Content cast a hurried and
inquiring glance at his father, who in his turn had
anxiously sought the eye of the stranger. The latter
stood firm and unmoved. One hand was clenched
upon the back of the chair from which he had
arisen, and the other grasped, perhaps unconsciously,
the handle of one of those weapons which had attracted
the attention of young Mark, and which
still continued thrust through the broad leathern
belt that girded his doublet.

“The sound is like that, which one little used to
deal with earthly instruments might raise!” muttered
one of those whose mind had been prepared,

-- 151 --

[figure description] Page 151.[end figure description]

by the narrative of Dudley, to believe in any thing
marvellous.

“Come from what quarter it may, it is a summons
that must be answered;” returned Content.
“Dudley, thy musket; this visit is so unwonted,
that more than one hand should do the office of
porter.”

The borderer instantly complied, muttering between
his teeth as he shook the priming deeper into
the barrel of his piece, “Your over-sea gallants are
quick on the trial to-night!” Then throwing the
musket into the hollow of his arm, he cast a look
of discontent and resentment towards Faith Ring,
and was about to open the door for the passage of
Content, when another blast arose on the silence
without. The second touch of the shell was firmer,
longer, louder, and more true, than that by which
it had just been preceded.

“One might fancy the conch was speaking in
mockery,” observed Content, looking with meaning
towards their guest. “Never did sound more resemble
sound than these we have just heard, and
those thou drew from the shell when asking admission.”

A sudden light appeared to break in upon the
intelligence of the stranger. Advancing more into
the circle, rather with the freedom of long familiarity
than with the diffidence of a newly-arrived
guest, he motioned for silence as he said—

“Let none move, but this stout woodsman, the
young captain and myself. We will go forth, and
doubt not that the safety of those within shall be
regarded.”

Notwithstanding the singularity of this proposal,
as it appeared to excite neither surprise nor opposition
in the Puritan or his son, the rest of the family
offered no objection. The stranger had no sooner
spoken, than he advanced near to the torch, and

-- 152 --

[figure description] Page 152.[end figure description]

looked closely into the condition of his pistols. Then
turning to old Mark, he continued in an under tone—

“Peradventure there will be more worldly strife
than any which can flow from the agencies that
stir up the unquiet spirits of the Colonies. In such
an extremity, it may be well to observe a soldier's
caution.”

“I like not this mockery of sound,” returned
the Puritan; “it argueth a taunting and fiend-like
temper. We have, of late, had in this Colony
tragical instances of what the disappointed malice
of Azazel can attempt; and it would be vain to
hope that the evil agencies are not vexed with the
sight of my Bethel.”

Though the stranger listened to the words of his
host with respect, it was plain that his thoughts
dwelt on dangers of a different character. The
member that still rested on the handle of his weapon,
was clenched with greater firmness; and a grim,
though a melancholy expression was seated about
a mouth, that was compressed in a manner to denote
the physical, rather than the spiritual resolution of
the man. He made a sign to the two companions
he had chosen, and led the way to the court.

By this time, the shades of night had materially
thickened, and, although the hour was still early, a
darkness had come over the valley that rendered it
difficult to distinguish objects at any distance from
the eye. The obscurity made it necessary that
they, who now issued from the door of the dwelling,
should advance with caution, lest, ere properly admonished
of its presence, their persons should be
exposed to some lurking danger. When the three,
however, were safely established behind the thick
curtain of plank and earth that covered and commanded
the entrance, and where their persons, from
the shoulders downward, were completely protected,
alike from shot and arrow, Content demanded to

-- 153 --

[figure description] Page 153.[end figure description]

know, who applied at his gates for admission at an
hour when they were habitually closed for the
night. Instead of receiving, as before, a ready
answer, the silence was so profound, that his own
words were very distinctly heard repeated, as was
not uncommon at that quiet hour, among the recesses
of the neighboring woods.

“Come it from Devil, or come it from man, here
is treachery!” whispered the stranger after a fitting
pause. “Artifice must be met by artifice; but thou
art much abler to advise against the wiles of the
forest, than one trained, as I have been, in the less
cunning deceptions of Christian warfare.”

“What think'st, Dudley?” asked Content—“Will
it be well to sally, or shall we wait another signal
from the conch?”

“Much dependeth on the quality of the guests
expected,” returned he of whom counsel was asked.
“As for the braggart gallants, that are over-valiant
among the maidens, and heavy of heart when they
think the screech of the jay an Indian whoop, I care
not if ye beat the pickets to the earth, and call
upon them to enter on the gallop. I know the
manner to send them to the upper story of the
block, quicker than the cluck of the turkey can
muster its young; but—”

“'Tis well to be discreet in language, in a moment
of such serious uncertainty!” interrupted the stranger.
“We look for no gallants of the kind.”

“Then will I give you a conceit that shall know
the reason of the music of yon conch. Go ye two
back into the house, making much conversation by
the way, in order that any without may hear.
When ye have entered, it shall be my task to find
such a post nigh the gate, that none shall knock
again, and no porter be at hand to question them
in the matter of their errand.”

“This soundeth better,” said Content; “and that

-- 154 --

[figure description] Page 154.[end figure description]

it may be done with all safety, some others of the
young men, who are accustomed to this species of
artifice, shall issue by the secret door and lie in wait
behind the dwellings, in order that support shall
not be wanting in case of violence. Whatever else
thou dost, Dudley, remember that thou dost not
undo the fastenings of the postern.”

“Look to the support,” returned the woodsman;
“should it be keen-eyed Reuben Ring, I shall feel
none the less certain that good aid is at my back.
The whole of that family are quick of wit and
ready of invention, unless it may be the wight who
hath got the form without the reason of a man.”

“Thou shalt have Reuben, and none other of his
kin,” said Content. “Be well advised of the fastenings,
and so I wish thee all fitting success, in a deception
that cannot be sinful, since it aims only at
our safety.”

With this injunction, Content and the stranger
left Dudley to the practice of his own devices, the
former observing the precaution to speak aloud
while returning, in order that any listeners without
might be led to suppose the whole party had retired
from the search, satisfied of its fruitlessness.

In the mean time, the youth left nigh the postern
set about the accomplishment of the task he had
undertaken, in sober earnest. Instead of descending
in a direct line to the palisadoes, he also ascended,
and made a circuit among the out-buildings on the
margin of the acclivity. Then bending so low as
to blend his form with objects on the snow, he gained
an angle of the palisadoes, at a point remote from
the spot he intended to watch, and, as he hoped,
aided by the darkness of the hour and the shadows
of the hill, completely protected from observation.
When beneath the palisadoes, the sentinel crouched
to the earth, creeping with extreme caution along
the timber which united their lower ends, until he

-- 155 --

[figure description] Page 155.[end figure description]

found himself arrived at a species of sentry-box,
that was erected for the very purpose to which he
now intended it should be applied. Once within the
cover of this little recess, the sturdy woodsman
bestowed his large frame, with as much attention
to comfort and security as the circumstances would
permit. Here he prepared to pass many weary
minutes, before there should be further need of his
services.

The reader will find no difficulty in believing
that one of opinions like those of the borderer, did
not enter on his silent watch without much distrust
of the character of the guests that he might be
called upon to receive. Enough has been shown to
prove that the suspicion uppermost in his mind was,
that the unwelcome agents of the government had
returned on the heels of the stranger. But, notwithstanding
the seeming probability of this opinion,
there were secret misgivings of the earthly
origin of the two last windings of the shell. All the
legends, and all the most credited evidence in cases
of prestigious agency, as it had been exhibited in
the colonies of New-England, went to show the
malignant pleasure the Evil Spirits found, in indulging
their wicked mockeries, or in otherwise tormenting
those who placed their support on a faith,
that was believed to be so repugnant to their own
ungrateful and abandoned natures. Under the impressions,
naturally excited by the communication
he had held with the traveller in the mountains,
Eben Dudley found his mind equally divided between
the expectation of seeing, at each moment,
one of the men whom he had induced to quit the
valley so unceremoniously, returning to obtain, surreptitiously,
admission within the gate, or of being
made an unwilling witness of some wicked manifestation
of that power which was temporarily committed
to the invisibles. In both of these

-- 156 --

[figure description] Page 156.[end figure description]

expectations, however, he was fated to be disappointed.
Notwithstanding the strong spiritual bias of the
opinions of the credulous sentinel, there was too
much of the dross of temporal things in his composition,
to elevate him altogether above the weakness
of humanity. A mind so encumbered began
to weary with its own contemplations; and, as it
grew feeble with its extraordinary efforts, the
dominion of matter gradually resumed its sway.
Thought, instead of being clear and active, as the
emergency would have seemed to require, began to
grow misty. Once or twice the borderer half arose,
and appeared to look about him with observation;
and then, as his large frame fell heavily back into
its former semi-recumbent attitude, he grew tranquil
and stationary. This movement was several
times repeated, at intervals of increasing length,
till, at the end of an hour, forgetting alike the hunt,
the troopers, and the mysterious agents of evil, the
young man yielded to the fatigue of the day. The
tall oaks of the adjoining forest stood not more immovable
in the quiet of the tranquil hour, than his
frame now leaned against the side of its narrow
habitation.

How much time was thus lost in inactivity, Eben
Dudley could never precisely tell. He always
stoutly maintained it could not have been long, since
his watch was not disturbed by the smallest of those
sounds from the woods, which sometimes occur in
deep night, and which may be termed the breathing
of the forest in its slumbers. His first distinct recollection,
was that of feeling a hand grasped with
the power of a giant. Springing to his feet, the
young man eagerly stretched forth an arm, saying
as he did so, in words sufficiently confused—

“If the buck hath fallen by a shot in the head,
I grant him to be thine, Reuben Ring; but if struck

-- 157 --

[figure description] Page 157.[end figure description]

in limb or body, I claim the venison for a surer
hand.”

“Truly, a very just division of the spoil,” returned
one in an under tone, and speaking as if sounds
too loud might be dangerous. “Thou givest the
head of the deer for a target to Reuben Ring, and
keepest the rest of the creature to thine own uses.”

“Who hath sent thee, at this hour, to the postern?
Dost not know that there are thought to be
strangers, outlying in the fields?”

“I know that there are some, who are not strangers,
in-lying on their watch!” said Faith Ring.
“What shame would come upon thee, Dudley, did
the Captain, and they who have been so strongly
exercised in prayer within, but suspect how little
care thou hast had of their safety, the while!”

“Have they come to harm? If the Captain hath
held them to spiritual movements, I hope he will
allow that nothing earthly hath passed this postern
to disturb the exercise. As I hope to be dealt honestly
by, in all matters of character, I have not
once quitted the gate, since the watch was set.”

“Else wouldst thou be the famousest sleep-walker
in the Connecticut Colony! Why, drowsy one, conch
cannot raise a louder blast than that thou soundest,
when eyes are fairly shut in sleep. This may be
watching, according to thy meaning of the word;
but infant in its cradle is not half so ignorant of
that which passeth around it, as thou hast been.”

“I think, Faith Ring, that thou hast gotten to
be much given to backbiting, and evil saying against
friends, since the visit of the gallants from over
sea.”

“Out upon the gallants from over sea, and thee
too, man! I am not a girl to be flouted with bold
speech from one who doth not know whether he be
sleeping or waking. I tell thee, thy good name
would be lost in the family, did it come to the ears

-- 158 --

[figure description] Page 158.[end figure description]

of the Captain, and more particularly to the knowledge
of that soldier stranger, up in the dwelling, of
whom even the Madam maketh so great ceremony,
that thou hast been watching with a tuneful nose,
an open mouth, and a sealed eye.”

“If any but thee hadst said this slander of me,
girl, it would go nigh to raise hot speech between
us! Thy brother, Reuben Ring, knows better than
to stir my temper, by such falsity of accusation.”

“Thou dealest so generously by him, that he is
prone to forget thy misdeeds. Truly he hath the
head of the buck, while thou contentest thyself with
the offals and all the less worthy parts! Go to, Dudley;
thou wast in a heavy dream when I caused
thee to awake.”

“A pretty time have we fallen upon, when petticoats
are used instead of beards and strong-armed
men, to go the rounds of the sentinels, and to say
who sleepeth and who is watchful! What hath
brought thee so far from the exercises and so nigh
the gates, Mistress Faith, now that there is no over-sea
gallant to soothe thy ears with lying speech
and light declarations.”

“If speech not to be credited is that I seek,” returned
the girl, “truly the errand hath not been
without its reward. What brought me hither, sooth!
why, the Madam hath need of articles from the
outer buttery—and—ay—and my ears led me to
the postern. Thou knowest, musical Dudley, that
I have had occasion to hearken to thy watchful
notes before this night. But my time is too useful
to be wasted in idleness; thou art now awake, and
may thank her who hath done thee a good turn
with no wish to boast of it, that one of a black
beard is not the laughing-stock of all the youths in
the family. If thou keepest thine own counsel, the
Captain may yet praise thee for a vigilant sentinel;

-- 159 --

[figure description] Page 159.[end figure description]

though Heaven forgive him the wrong he will do
the truth!”

“Perhaps a little anger at unjust suspicions may
have prompted more than the matter needed, Faith,
when I taxed thee with the love of backbiting, and
I do now recall that word; though I will ever deny
that aught more, than some wandering recollection
concerning the hunt of this day, hath come over
my thoughts, and perhaps made me even forgetful
that it was needful to be silent at the postern; and
therefore, on the truth of a Christian man, I do forgive
thee, the—”

But Faith was already out of sight and out of
hearing. Dudley himself, who began to have certain
prickings of conscience concerning the ingratitude
he had manifested to one who had taken so much
interest in his reputation, now bethought him seriously
of that which remained to be done. He had
much reason to suspect that there was less of the
night before him than he had at first believed, and
he became in consequence more sensible of the necessity
of making some report of the events of his
watch. Accordingly, he cast a scrutinizing glance
around, in order to make sure that the facts should
not contradict his testimony, and then, first examining
the fastenings of the postern, he mounted the
hill, and presented himself before the family. The
members of the latter, having in truth passed most
of the long interval of his absence in spiritual exercises,
and in religious conversation, were not so
sensible of his delay in reporting, as they might
otherwise have been.

“What tidings dost thou bring us from without?”
said Content, so soon as the self-relieved sentinel
appeared. “Hast seen any, or hast heard that
which is suspicious?”

Ere Dudley would answer, his eye did not fail to
study the half-malicious expression of the

-- 160 --

[figure description] Page 160.[end figure description]

countenance of her who was busy in some domestic toil,
directly opposite to the place where he stood. But
reading there no more than a glance of playful
though smothered irony, he was encouraged to proceed
in his report.

“The watch has been quiet,” was the answer;
“and there is little cause to keep the sleepers longer
from their beds. Some vigilant eyes, like those
of Reuben Ring and my own, had better be open
until the morning; further than that, is there no
reason for being wakeful.”

Perhaps the borderer would have dwelt more at
large on his own readiness to pass the remainder of
the hours of rest in attending to the security of
those who slept, had not another wicked glance
from the dark, laughing eye of her who stood so
favorably placed to observe his countenance, admonished
him of the prudence of being modest in his
professions.

“This alarm hath then happily passed away,”
said the Puritan, arising. “We will now go to our
pillows in thankfulness and peace. Thy service shall
not be forgotten, Dudley; for thou hast exposed
thyself to seeming danger, at least, in our behalf.”

“That hath he!” half-whispered Faith; “and
sure am I, that we maidens will not forget his readiness
to lose the sweets of sleep, in order that the
feeble may not come to harm.”

“Speak not of the trifle,” hurriedly returned the
other. “There has been some deception in the
sounds, for it is now my opinion, except to summon
us to the gate, that this stranger might enter—the
conch hath not been touched at all to night.”

“Then is it a deception which is repeated!” exclaimed
Content, rising from his chair as a faint and
broken blast from the shell, like that which had
first announced their visiter, again struggled among

-- 161 --

[figure description] Page 161.[end figure description]

the buildings, until it reached every ear in the
dwelling.

“Here is warning as mysterious as it may prove
portentous!” said old Mark Heathcote, when the
surprise, not to say consternation of the moment,
had subsided. “Hast seen nothing that might justify
this?”

Eben Dudley, like most of the auditors, was too
much confounded to reply. All seemed to attend
anxiously for the second and more powerful blast,
which was to complete the imitation of the stranger's
summons. It was not necessary to wait long;
for in a time as near as might be, to that which had
intervened between the two first peals of the horn,
followed another, and in a note so true, again, as to
give it the semblance of an echo.

CHAPTER XI.

“I will watch to-night;
Perchance 't will walk again.”

Hamlet.

May not this be a warning given in mercy?” the
Puritan, at all times disposed to yield credit to supernatural
manifestations of the care of Providence,
demanded with a solemnity that did not fail to produce
its impression on most of his auditors. “The
history of our Colonies is full of the evidences of
these merciful interpositions.”

“We will thus consider it;” returned the stranger,
to whom the question seemed more particularly
addressed. “The first measure shall be to seek out
the danger to which it points. Let the youth they
call Dudley, give me the aid of his powerful frame

-- 162 --

[figure description] Page 162.[end figure description]

and manly courage; then trust the discovery of the
meaning of these frequent speakings of the conch,
to me.”

“Surely, Submission, thou wilt not again be the
first to go forth!” exclaimed Mark, in a surprise
that was equally manifested by Content and Ruth,
the latter of whom pressed her little image to her
side as though the bare proposal presented a powerful
picture of supernatural danger. “ 'T will be well
to think maturely on the step, ere thou runnest the
hazard of such an adventure.”

“Better it should be I,” said Content, “who am
accustomed to forest signs, and all the usual testimonials
of the presence of those who may wish us
harm.”

“No,” said he, who for the first time had been
called `Submission,' a name that savored of the
religious enthusiasm of the times, and which might
have been adopted as an open avowal of his readiness
to bow beneath some peculiar dispensation of
Providence. “This service shall be mine. Thou art
both husband and father; and many are there who
look to thy safety as to their rock of earthly support
and comfort, while neither kindred, nor——but we
will not speak of things foreign to our purpose! Thou
knowest, Mark Heathcote, that peril and I are no
strangers. There is little need to bid me be prudent.
Come, bold woodsman; shoulder thy musket,
and be ready to do credit to thy manhood, should
there be reason to prove it.”

“And why not Reuben Ring?” said a hurried female
voice, that all knew to proceed from the lips
of the sister of the youth just named. “He is quick
of eye and ready of hand, in trials like these; would
it not be well to succor thy party with such aid?”

“Peace, girl,” meekly observed Ruth. “This matter
is already in the ordering of one used to

-- 163 --

[figure description] Page 163.[end figure description]

command; there needeth no counsel from thy short experience.”

Faith shrunk back abashed, the flush which had
mantled over her brown cheek deepening to a tint
like that of blood.

Submission (we use the appellation in the absence
of all others) fastened a searching glance, for a single
moment, on the countenance of the girl; and
then, as if his intention had not been diverted from
the principal subject in hand, he rejoined coolly—

“We go as scouters and observers of that which
may hereafter call for the ready assistance of this
youth; but numbers would expose us to observation,
without adding to our usefulness—and yet,” he
added, arresting his footstep, which was already
turned towards the door, and looking earnestly and
long at the Indian boy, “perhaps there standeth
one who might much enlighten us, would he but
speak!”

This remark drew every eye on the person of the
captive. The lad stood the scrutiny with the undismayed
and immovable composure of his race.
But though his eye met the looks of those around
him haughtily and in pride, it was not gleaming with
any of that stern defiance which had so often been
known to glitter in his glances, when he had reason
to think that his fortunes, or his person, was the subject
of the peculiar observation of those with whom
he dwelt. On the contrary, the expression of his
dark visage was rather that of amity than of hatred,
and there was a moment when the look he cast
upon Ruth and her offspring was visibly touched
with a feeling of concern. A glance, charged with
such a meaning, could not escape the quick-sighted
vigilance of a mother.

“The child hath proved himself worthy to be
trusted,” she said; “and in the name of him who

-- 164 --

[figure description] Page 164.[end figure description]

looketh into and knoweth all hearts, let him once
more go forth.”

Her lips became sealed, for again the conch announced
the seeming impatience of those without to
be admitted. The full tones of the shell thrilled
on the nerves of the listeners, as though they proclaimed
the coming of some great and fearful judgment.

In the midst of these often-repeated and mysterious
sounds, Submission alone seemed calm and unmoved.
Turning his look from the countenance of
the boy, whose head had dropped upon his breast as
the last notes of the conch rang among the buildings,
he motioned hurriedly to Dudley to follow, and left
the place.

There was, in good truth, that in the secluded
situation of the valley, the darkness of the hour, and
the nature of the several interruptions, which might
readily awaken deep concern in the breasts of men
as firm even as those who now issued into the open
air, in quest of the solution of doubts that were becoming
intensely painful. The stranger, or Submission,
as we may in future have frequent occasion to
call him, led the way in silence to a point of the
eminence, without the buildings, where the eye
might overlook the palisadoes that hedged the sides
of the acclivity, and command a view beyond of all
that the dusky and imperfect light would reveal.

It was a scene that required familiarity with a
border life to be looked on, at any moment, with
indifference. The broad, nearly interminable, and
seemingly trackless forest lay about them, bounding
the view to the narrow limits of the valley, as though
it were some straitened oasis amidst an ocean of wilderness.
Within the boundaries of the cleared land,
objects were less indistinct; though even those nearest
and most known were now seen only in the confused
and gloomy outlines of night.

-- 165 --

[figure description] Page 165.[end figure description]

Across this dim prospect, Submission and his companion
gazed long and cautiously.

“There is nought but motionless stumps, and
fences loaded with snow,” said the former, when his
eye had roamed over the whole circuit of the view
which lay on the side of the valley where they stood.
“We must go forth, that we may look nearer to the
fields.”

“Thither then is the postern,” said Dudley, observing
that the other took a direction opposite to
that which led to the gate. But a gesture of authority
induced him at the next instant to restrain
his voice, and to follow whither his companion chose
to lead the way.

The stranger made a circuit of half the hill ere
he descended to the palisadoes, at a point where lay
long and massive piles of wood, which had been collected
for the fuel of the family. This spot was one
that overlooked the steepest acclivity of the eminence,
which was in itself, just there, so difficult of
ascent, as to render the provision of the pickets far
less necessary than in its more even faces. Still no
useful precaution for the security of the family had
been neglected, even at this strong point of the
works. The piles of wood were laid at such a distance
from the pickets as to afford no facilities for
scaling them, while, on the other hand, they formed
platforms and breast-works that might have greatly
added to the safety of those who should be required
to defend this portion of the fortress. Taking his
way directly amid the parallel piles, the stranger
descended rapidly through the whole of their mazes,
until he had reached the open space between the
outer of the rows and the palisadoes, a space that
was warily left too wide to be passed by the leap
of man.

“ 'Tis many a day since foot of mine has been in
this spot,” said Eben Dudley, feeling his way along

-- 166 --

[figure description] Page 166.[end figure description]

a path that his companion threaded without any
apparent hesitation. “My own hand laid this outer
pile, some winters since, and certain am I, that from
that hour to this, man hath not touched a billet of
the wood—And yet, for one who hath come from
over sea, it would appear that thou hast no great difficulty
in making way among the narrow lanes!”

“He that hath sight may well choose between air
and beechen logs,” returned the other, stopping at
the palisadoes, and in a place that was concealed
from any prying eyes within the works, by triple
and quadruple barriers of wood. Feeling in his girdle,
he then drew forth something which Dudley
was not long in discovering to be a key. While the
latter, aided by the little light that fell from the
heavens, was endeavoring to make the most of his
eyes, Submission applied the instrument to a lock
that was artfully sunk in one of the timbers, at the
height of a man's breast from the ground; and giving
a couple of vigorous turns, a piece of the palisado,
some half a fathom long, yielded on a powerful hinge
below, and, falling, made an opening sufficiently
large for the passage of a human body.

“Here is a sally-port ready provided for our
sortie,” the stranger coolly observed, motioning to
the other to precede him. When Dudley had passed,
his companion followed, and the opening was
then carefully closed and locked.

“Now is all fast again, and we are in the fields
without raising alarm to any of mortal birth, at
least,” continued the guide, thrusting a hand into
the folds of his doublet, as if to feel for a weapon,
and preparing to descend the difficult declivity
which still lay between him and the base of the
hill. Eben Dudley hesitated to follow. The interview
with the traveller in the mountains occurred
to his heated imagination, and the visions of a prestigious
agency revived with all their original force.

-- 167 --

[figure description] Page 167.[end figure description]

The whole manner and the mysterious character
of his companion, was little likely to reassure a
mind disturbed with such images.

“There is a rumor going in the Colony,” muttered
the borderer, “that the invisibles are permitted
for a time to work their evil; and it may well happen
that some of their ungodly members shall journey
to the Wish-Ton-Wish, in lack of better employment.”

“Thou sayest truly,” replied the stranger; “but
the power that allows of their wicked torments
may have seen fit to provide an agent of its own, to
defeat their subtleties. We will now draw nearer
to the gate, in order that an eye may be kept on
their malicious designs.”

Submission spoke with gravity, and not without
a certain manner of solemnity. Dudley yielded,
though with a divided and a disturbed mind, to his
suggestion. Still he followed in the footsteps of the
stranger, with a caution that might well have eluded
the vigilance of any agency short of that which
drew its means of information from sources deeper
than any of human power.

When the two watches had found a secret and
suitable place, not far from the postern, they disposed
themselves in silence to await the result. The out-buildings
lay in deep quiet, not a sound of any sort
arising from all of the many tenants they were
known to contain. The lines of ragged fences; the
blackened stumps, capped with little pyramids of
snow; the taller and sometimes suspiciously-looking
stubs; an insulated tree, and finally the broad borber
of forest,—were alike motionless, gloomy, and
clothed in the doubtful forms of night. Still, the
space around the well-secured and trebly-barred
postern was vacant. A sheet of spotless snow served
as a back-ground, that would have been sure to betray
the presence of any object passing over its

-- 168 --

[figure description] Page 168.[end figure description]

surface. Even the conch might be seen suspended
from one of the timbers, as mute and inoffensive as
the hour when it had been washed by the waves,
on the sands of the sea-shore.

“Here will we watch for the coming of the
stranger, be he commissioned by the powers of air,
or be he one sent on an errand of earth;” whispered
Submission, preparing his arms for immediate
use, and disposing of his person, at the same time,
in a manner most convenient to endure the weariness
of a patient watch.

“I would my mind were at ease on the question
of right-doing in dealing harm to one who disturbs
the quiet of a border family,” said Dudley, in a
tone sufficiently repressed for caution; “it may be
found prudent to strike the first blow, should one
like an over-sea gallant, after all, be inclined to
trouble us at this hour.”

“In that strait, thou wilt do well to give little
heed to the order of the offences,” gloomily returned
the other. “Should another messenger of England
appear—”

He paused, for a note of the conch was heard
rising gradually on the air, until the whole of the
wide valley was filled with its rich and melancholy
sound.

“Lip of man is not at the shell!” exclaimed the
stranger, who like Dudley had made a forward
movement towards the postern, the instant the blast
reached his ear, and who like Dudley recoiled in
an amazement that even his practised self-command
could not conceal, as he undeniably perceived the
truth of that his speech affirmed. “This exceedeth
all former instances of marvellous visitations!”

“It is vain to pretend to raise the feeble nature
of man to the level of things coming from the invisible
world,” returned the woodsman at his side.
“In such a strait, it is seemly that sinful men should

-- 169 --

[figure description] Page 169.[end figure description]

withdraw to the dwellings, where we may sustain
our feebleness by the spiritual strivings of the Captain.”

To this discreet proposal the stranger raised no
objection. Without taking the time necessary to
effect their retreat with the precaution that had
been observed in their advance, the two adventurers
quickly found themselves at the secret entrance
through which they had so lately issued.

“Enter,” said the stranger, lowering the piece
of the palisado for the passage of his companion.
“Enter, of a Heaven's sake! for it is truly meet
that we assemble all our spiritual succor.”

Dudley was in the act of complying, when a dark
line, accompanied by a low rushing sound, cut the
air between his head and that of his companion.
At the next instant, a flint-headed arrow quivered
in the timber.

“The heathen!” shouted the borderer, recovering
all his manhood as the familiar danger became apparent,
and throwing back a stream of fire in the
direction from which the treacherous missile had
come. “To the palisadoes, men! the bloody heathen
is upon us!”

“The heathen!” echoed the stranger, in a deep,
steady, commanding voice, that had evidently often
raised the warning in scenes of even greater emergency,
and levelling a pistol, which brought a dark
form that was gliding across the snow to one knee.
“The heathen! the bloody heathen is upon us!”

As if both assailants and assailed paused, one
moment of profound stillness succeeded this fierce
interruption of the quiet of the night. Then the
cries of the two adventurers were answered by a
burst of yells from a wide circle, that nearly environed
the hill. At the same moment, each dark
object, in the fields, gave up a human form. The
shouts were followed by a cloud of arrows, that

-- 170 --

[figure description] Page 170.[end figure description]

rendered further delay without the cover of the
palisadoes eminently hazardous. Dudley entered;
but the passage of the stranger would have been
cut off, by a leaping, whooping band that pressed
fiercely on his rear, had not a broad sheet of flame,
glancing from the hill directly in their swarthy and
grim countenances, driven the assailants back upon
their own footsteps. In another moment, the bolts
of the lock were passed, and the two fugitives were
in safety behind the ponderous piles of wood.

CHAPTER XII.

“There need no ghost, my lord, come from the grave,
To tell us this.”

Hamlet.

Although the minds of most, if not of all the
inmates of the Wish-Ton-Wish, had been so powerfully
exercised that night with a belief that the
powers of the invisible world were about to be let
loose upon them, the danger had now presented
itself in a shape too palpable to admit of further
doubt. The cry of `the heathen' had been raised
from every lip; even the daughter and elève of
Ruth repeated it, as they fled wailing through the
buildings; and, for a moment, terror and surprise
appeared to involve the assailed in inextricable confusion.
But the promptitude of the young men in
rushing to the rescue, with the steadiness of Content,
soon restored order. Even the females assumed at
least the semblance of composure, the family having
been too long trained to meet the exigencies of such
an emergency, to be thrown entirely off its guard,
for more than the first and the most appalling
moments of the alarm.

-- 171 --

[figure description] Page 171.[end figure description]

The effect of the sudden repulse was such as all
experience had taught the Colonists to expect, in
their Indian warfare. The uproar of the onset
ceased as abruptly as it had commenced, and a
calmness so tranquil, and a stillness so profound,
succeeded, that one who had for the first time
witnessed such a scene, might readily have fancied
it the effects of some wild and fearful illusion.

During these moments of general and deep silence,
the two adventurers, whose retreat had probably
hastened the assault by offering the temptation of
an easy passage within the works, left the cover of
the piles of wood, and ascended the hill to the
place where Dudley knew Content was to be posted,
in the event of a summons to the defences.

“Unless much inquiry hath deceived me in the nature
of the heathen's craftiness,” said the stranger,
“we shall have breathing-time ere the onset be
renewed. The experience of a soldier bids me say,
that prudence now urges us to look into the number
and position of our foes, that we may order our
resistance with better understandinng of their force.”

“In what manner of way may this be done?
Thou seest nought about us but the quiet and the
darkness of night. Speak of the number of our
enemies we cannot, and sally forth we may not,
without certain destruction to all who quit the
palisadoes.”

“Thou forgottest that we have a hostage in the
boy; he may be turned to some advantage, if our
power over his person be used with discretion.”

“I doubt that we deceive ourselves with a hope
that is vain,” returned Content, leading the way
as he spoke, however, towards the court which communicated
with the principal dwelling. “I have
closely studied the eye of that lad, since his unaccountable
entrance within the works, and little do
I find there that should teach us to expect confidence.

-- 172 --

[figure description] Page 172.[end figure description]

It will be happy if some secret understanding with
those without, has not aided him in passing the
palisadoes, and that he prove not a dangerous spy
on our force and movements.”

“In regard to that he hath entered the dwelling
without sound of conch or aid of postern, be not
disturbed,” returned the stranger with composure.
“Were it fitting, this mystery might be of easy
explanation; but it may truly need all our sagacity
to discover whether he hath connexion with our
foes! The mind of a native does not give up its
secrets like the surface of a vanity-feeding mirror.”

The stranger spoke like a man who wrapped a
portion of his thoughts in reserve, and his companion
listened as one who comprehended more than
it might be seemly or discreet to betray. With this
secret and yet equivocal understanding of each
other's meaning, they entered the dwelling, and
soon found themselves in the presence of those they
sought.

The constant danger of their situation had compelled
the family to bring themselves within the
habits of a methodical and severely-regulated order
of defence. Duties were assigned, in the event of
alarm, to the feeblest bodies and the faintest hearts;
and during the moments which preceded the visit
of her husband, Ruth had been endeavoring to
commit to her female subordinates the several
necessary charges that usage, and more particularly
the emergency of the hour, appeared so imperiously
to require.

“Hasten, Charity, to the block,” she said; “and
look into the condition of the buckets and the ladders,
that should the heathen drive us to its shelter,
provision of water, and means of retreat, be not
wanting in our extremity; and hie thee, Faith, into
the upper apartments, to see that no lights may
direct their murderous aim at any in the chambers.

-- 173 --

[figure description] Page 173.[end figure description]

Thoughts come tardily, when the arrow or the
bullet hath already taken its flight! And now, that
the first assault is over, Mark, and we may hope to
meet the wiles of the enemy by some prudence of
our own, thou mayst go forth to thy father. It
would have been tempting Providence too rashly,
hadst thou rushed, unbidden and uninformed, into
the first hurry of the danger. Come hither, child,
and receive the blessing and prayers of thy mother;
after which thou shalt, with better trust in Providence,
place thy young person among the combatants,
in the hope of victory. Remember that thou
art now of an age to do justice to thy name and
origin, and yet art thou of years too tender to be
foremost in speech, and far less in action, on such a
night as this.”

A momentary flush, that only served to render
the succeeding paleness more obvious, passed across
the brow of the mother. She stooped, and imprinted
a kiss on the forehead of the impatient boy, who
scarcely waited to receive this act of tenderness,
ere he hurried to place himself in the ranks of her
defenders.

“And now,” said Ruth, slowly turning her eye
from the door by which the lad had disappeared,
and speaking with a sort of unnatural composure,
“and now will we look to the safety of those who
can be of but little service, except as sentinels to
sound the alarm. When thou art certain, Faith,
that no neglected light is in the rooms above, take
the children to the secret chamber; thence they
may look upon the fields, without danger from any
chance direction of the savages' aim. Thou knowest,
Faith, my frequent teaching in this matter; let
no sounds of alarm, nor frightful whoopings of the
people without, cause thee to quit the spot; since
thou wilt there be safer even than in the block,
against which many missiles will doubtless be driven,

-- 174 --

[figure description] Page 174.[end figure description]

on account of its seeming air of strength. Timely
notice shall be given of the change, should we seek
its security. Thou wilt descend, only, shouldst thou
see enemies scaling the palisadoes on the side which
overhangs the stream; since there have we the
fewest eyes to watch their movements. Remember
that on the side of the out-buildings and of the
fields, our force is chiefly posted; there can be less
reason therefore that thou shouldst expose thy lives
by endeavoring to look, too curiously, into that
which passeth in the fields. Go, my children; and a
heavenly Providence prove thy guardian!”

Ruth stooped to kiss the cheek that her daughter
offered to the salute. The embrace was then given
to the other child, who was in truth scarcely less
near her heart, being the orphan daughter of one
who had been as a sister in her affections. But, unlike
the kiss she had impressed on the forehead of
Mark, the present embraces were hasty, and evidently
awakened less intense emotion. She had
committed the boy to a known and positive danger,
but, under the semblance of some usefulness, she
sent the others to a place believed to be even less
exposed, so long as the enemy could be kept without
the works, than the citadel itself. Still, a feeling
of deep and maternal tenderness came over her
mind, as her daughter retired; and, yielding to its
sudden impulse, she recalled the girl to her side.

“Thou wilt repeat the prayer for especial protection
against the dangers of the wilderness,” she
solemnly continued. “In thy asking, fail not to remember
him to whom thou owest being, and who
now exposeth life, that we may be safe. Thou
knowest the Christian's rock; place thy faith on its
foundation.”

“And they who seek to kill us,” demanded the
well-instructed child; “are they too of the number
of those for whom he died?”

-- 175 --

[figure description] Page 175.[end figure description]

`It may not be doubted, though the manner of
the dispensation be so mysterious! Barbarians in
their habits, and ruthless in their enmities, they
are creatures of our nature, and equally objects of
his care.”

Flaxen locks, that half-covered a forehead and
face across which ran the most delicate tracery of
veins, added lustre to a skin as spotlessly fair as if
the warm breezes of that latitude had never fanned
the countenance of the girl. Through this maze
of ringlets, the child turned her full, clear, blue
eyes, bending her looks, in wonder and in fear, on
the dark visage of the captive Indian youth, who
at that moment was to her a subject of secret
horror. Unconscious of the interest he excited, the
lad stood calm, haughty, and seemingly unobservant,
cautious to let no sign of weakness or of concern
escape him, in this scene of womanly emotion.

“Mother,” whispered the still wondering child;
“may we not let him go into the forest? I do not
love to—”

“This is no time for speech. Go to thy hidingplace,
my child, and remember both thy askings and
the cautions I have named. Go, and heavenly care
protect thy innocent head!”

Ruth again stooped, and bowing her face until
the features were lost in the rich tresses of her
daughter, a moment passed during which there was
an eloquent silence. When she arose, a tear glistened
on the cheek of the child. The latter had
received the embrace more in apathy than in concern;
and now, when led towards the upper rooms,
she moved from the presence of her mother, it was
with an eye that never bent its riveted gaze from
the features of the young Indian, until the intervening
walls hid him entirely from her sight.

“Thou hast been thoughtful and like thyself, my
good Ruth,” said Content, who at that moment

-- 176 --

[figure description] Page 176.[end figure description]

entered, and who rewarded the self-command of his
wife by a look of the kindest approbation. “The
youths have not been more prompt in meeting the
foe at the stockades, than thy maidens in looking to
their less hardy duties. All is again quiet, without;
and we come, now, rather for consultation, than for
any purposes of strife.”

“Then must we summon our father from his post
at the artillery, in the block.”

“It is not needful,” interrupted the stranger.
“Time presses, for this calm may be too shortly
succeeded by a tempest that all our power shall not
quell. Bring forth the captive.”

Content signed to the boy to approach, and when
he was in reach of his hand, he placed him full before
the stranger.

“I know not thy name, nor yet even that of thy
people,” commenced the latter, after a long pause
in which he seemed to study deeply the countenance
of the lad; “but certain am I, though a more wicked
spirit may still be struggling for the mastery in thy
wild mind, that nobleness of feeling is no stranger
to thy bosom. Speak; hast thou aught to impart
concerning the danger that besets this family? I
have learned much this night from thy manner, but
to be clearly understood, it is now time that thou
shouldst speak in words.”

The youth kept his eye fastened on that of the
speaker, until the other had ended, and then he bent
it slowly, but with searching observation, on the anxious
countenance of Ruth. It seemed as if he balanced
between his pride and his sympathies. The
latter prevailed; for, conquering the deep reluctance
of an Indian, he spoke openly, and for the first
time, since his captivity, in the language of the
hated race.

“I hear the whoops of warriors,” was his calm answer.
“Have the ears of the pale men been shut?”

-- 177 --

[figure description] Page 177.[end figure description]

“Thou hast spoken with the young men of thy
tribe in the forest, and thou hadst knowledge of this
onset?”

The youth made no reply, though the keen look
of his interrogator was met steadily, and without
fear. Perceiving that he had demanded more than
would be answered, the stranger changed his mode
of investigation, masking his inquiries with a little
more of artifice.

“It may not be that a great tribe is on the bloody
path!” he said; “warriors would have walked over
the timbers of the palisadoes, like bending reeds!
'Tis a Pequot who hath broken faith with a Christian,
and who is now abroad, prowling as a wolf in
the night.”

A sudden and wild expression gleamed over the
swarthy features of the boy. His lips moved, and
the words that issued from between them were uttered
in the tones of biting scorn. Still he rather
muttered than pronounced aloud—

“The Pequot is a dog!”

“It is as I had thought; the knaves are out of
their villages, that the Yengeese may feed their
squaws. But a Narragansett, or a Wampanoag, is
a man; he scorns to lurk in the darkness. When
he comes, the sun will light his path. The Pequot
steals in silence, for he fears that the warriors will
hear his tread.”

It was not easy to detect any evidence that the
captive listened, either to the commendation or the
censure, with answering sympathy; for marble is
not colder that were the muscles of his unmoved
countenance.

The stranger studied the expression of his features
in vain, and drawing so near as to lay his hand on
the naked shoulder of the lad, he added—“Boy,
thou hast heard much moving matter concerning
the nature of our Christian faith, and thou hast been

-- 178 --

[figure description] Page 178.[end figure description]

the subject of many a fervent asking; it may not
be that so much good seed hath been altogether
scattered by the way-side! Speak; may I again
trust thee?”

“Let my father look on the snow. The print of
the moccason goes and comes.”

“It is true. Thus far hast thou proved honest;
but when the war-whoop shall be thrilling through
thy young blood, the temptation to join the warriors
may be too strong. Hast any gage, any pledge, in
which we may find warranty for letting thee depart?”

The boy regarded his interrogator with a look
that plainly denoted ignorance of his meaning.

“I would know what thou canst leave with me,
to show that our eyes shall again look upon thy face,
when we have opened the gate for thy passage into
the fields.”

Still the gaze of the other was wondering and
confused.

“When the white man goes upon the war-path
and would put trust in his foe, he takes surety for
his faith, by holding the life of one dear as a warranty
of its truth. What canst offer, that I may
know thou wilt return from the errand on which I
would fain send thee?”

“The path is open.”

“Open, but not certain to be used. Fear may
cause thee to forget the way it leads.”

The captive now understood the meaning of the
other's doubts, but, as if disdaining to reply, he bent
his eyes aside, and stood in one of those immovable
attitudes which so often gave him the air of a piece
of dark statuary.

Content and his wife had listened to this short
dialogue, in a manner to prove that they possessed
some secret knowledge, which lessened the wonder
they might otherwise have felt, at witnessing so obvious
proofs of a secret acquaintance between the

-- 179 --

[figure description] Page 179.[end figure description]

speakers. Both however manifested unequivocal
signs of astonishment, when they first heard English
sounds issuing from the lips of the boy. There was,
at least, the semblance of hope in the mediation of
one who had received, and who had appeared to acknowledge,
so much kindness from herself; and Ruth
clung to the cheering expectation with the quickness
of maternal care.

“Let the boy depart,” she said. “I will be his
hostage; and should he prove false, there can be
less to fear in his absence than in his presence.”

The obvious truth of the latter assertion probably
weighed more with the stranger than the unmeaning
pledge of the woman.

“There is reason in this,” he resumed. “Go, then,
into the fields, and say to thy people that they have
mistaken the path; that, they are on, hath led them
to the dwelling of a friend—Here are no Pequots,
nor any of the men of the Manhattoes; but Christian
Yengeese, who have long dealth with the Indian
as one just man dealeth with another. Go, and when
thy signal shall be heard at the gate, it shall be open
to thee, for readmission.”

Thus saying, the stranger motioned to the boy to
follow, taking care, as they left the room together,
to instruct him in all such minor matters as might
assist in effecting the pacific object of the mission
on which he was employed.

A few minutes of doubt and of fearful suspense
succeeded this experiment. The stranger, after seeing
that egress was permitted to his messenger, had
returned to the dwelling, and rejoined his companions.
He passed the moments in pacing the apartment,
with the strides of one in whom powerful
concern was strongly at work. At times, the sound
of his heavy footstep ceased, and then all listened
intently, in order to catch any sound that might instruct
them in the nature of the scene that was

-- 180 --

[figure description] Page 180.[end figure description]

passing without. In the midst of one of these pauses, a
yell like that of savage delight arose in the fields.
It was succeeded by the death-like and portentous
calm, which had rendered the time since the momentary
attack even more alarming than when the
danger had a positive and known character. But
all the attention the most intense anxiety could now
lend, furnished no additional clue to the movements
of their foes. For many minutes, the quiet of midnight
reigned both within and without the defences.
In the midst of this suspense, the latch of the door
was lifted, and their messenger appeared with that
noiseless tread and collected mien which distinguish
the people of his race.

“Thou hast met the warriors of thy tribe?” hastily
demanded the stranger.

“The noise did not cheat the Yengeese. It was
not a girl, laughing in the woods.”

“And thou hast said to thy people, `we are
friends'?”

“The words of my father were spoken.”

“And heard—Were they loud enough to enter
the ears of the young men?”

The boy was silent.

“Speak,” continued the stranger, elevating his
form, proudly, like one ready to breast a more severe
shock. “Thou hast men for thy listeners. Is the
pipe of the savage filled? will he smoke in peace,
or holdeth he the tomahawk in a clenched hand?”

The countenance of the boy worked with a feeling
that it was not usual for an Indian to betray.
He bent his look, with concern, on the mild eyes of
the anxious Ruth; then drawing a hand slowly from
beneath the light robe that partly covered his body,
he cast at the feet of the stranger a bundle of arrows,
wrapped in the glossy and striped skin of the
rattlesnake.

“This is warning we may not misconceive!” said

-- 181 --

[figure description] Page 181.[end figure description]

Content, raising the well-known emblem of ruthless
hostility to the light, and exhibiting it before the
eyes of his less-instructed companion. “Boy, what
have the people of my race done, that thy warriors
should seek their blood, to this extremity?”

When the boy had discharged his duty, he moved
aside, and appeared unwilling to observe the effect
which his message might produce on his companions.
But thus questioned, all gentle feelings were near
being forgotten, in the sudden force of passion. A
hasty glance at Ruth quelled the emotion, and he
continued calm as ever, and silent.

“Boy,” repeated Content, “I ask thee why thy
people seek our blood?”

The passage of the electric spark is not more
subtle, nor is it scarcely more brilliant, than was
the gleam that shot into the dark eye of the Indian.
The organ seemed to emit rays coruscant as the
glance of the serpent. His form appeared to swell
with the inward strivings of the spirit, and for a
moment there was every appearance of a fierce
and uncontrollable burst of ferocious passion. The
conquest of feeling was, however, but momentary.
He regained his self-command by a surprising effort
of the will, and advancing so near to him who had
asked this bold question, as to lay a finger on his
breast, the young savage haughtily said—

“See! this world is very wide. There is room
on it for the panther and the deer. Why have the
Yengeese and the red-men met?”

“We waste the precious moments in probing the
stern nature of a heathen,” said the stranger.
“The object of his people is certain, and, with the
aid of the Christian's staff, will we beat back their
power. Prudence requireth at our hands, that the
lad be secured; after which, will we repair to the
stockades and prove ourselves men.”

Against this proposal no reasonable objection

-- 182 --

[figure description] Page 182.[end figure description]

could be raised. Content was about to secure the
person of his captive in a cellar, when a suggestion
of his wife caused him to change his purpose. Notwithstanding
the sudden and fierce mien of the
youth, there had been such an intelligence created
between them by looks of kindness and interest,
that the mother was reluctant to abandon all hope
of his aid.

“Miantonimoh!” she said, “though others distrust
thy purpose, I will have confidence. Come, then,
with me; and while I give thee promise of safety in
thine own person, I ask at thy hands the office of
a protector for my babes.”

The boy made no reply; but as he passively followed
his conductress to the chambers, Ruth fancied
she read assurance of his faith, in the expression
of his eloquent eye. At the same moment, her husband
and Submission left the house, to take their
stations at the palisadoes.

CHAPTER XIII.

“Thou art, my good youth, my page;
I'll be thy master: walk with me; speak freely.”

Cymbeline.

The apartment, in which Ruth had directed the
children to be placed, was in the attic, and, as already
stated, on the side of the building which
faced the stream that ran at the foot of the hill.
It had a single projecting window, through which
there was a view of the forest and of the fields on
that side of the valley. Small openings in its sides
admitted also of glimpses of the grounds which lay
further in the rear. In addition to the covering of
the roofs, and of the massive frame-work of the

-- 183 --

[figure description] Page 183.[end figure description]

building, an interior partition of timber protected
the place against the entrance of most missiles then
known in the warfare of the country. During the
infancy of the children, this room had been their
sleeping apartment; nor was it abandoned for that
purpose, until the additional outworks, which increased
with time around the dwellings, had emboldened
the family to trust themselves, at night,
in situations more convenient, and which were believed
to be no less equally secure against surprise.

“I know thee to be one who feeleth the obligations
of a warrior,” said Ruth, as she ushered her
follower into the presence of the children. “Thou
wilt not deceive me; the lives of these tender ones
are in thy keeping. Look to them, Miantonimoh,
and the Christian's God will remember thee in thine
own hour of necessity!”

The boy made no reply, but in a gentle expression
which was visible in his dark visage, the mother
endeavored to find the pledge she sought. Then,
as the youth, with the delicacy of his race, moved
aside in order that they who were bound to each
other by ties so near might indulge their feelings
without observation, Ruth again drew near her offspring,
with all the tenderness of a mother beaming
in her eyes.

“Once more I bid thee not to look too curiously
at the fearful strife that may arise in front of our
habitations,” she said. “The heathen is truly upon
us, with bloody mind; young, as well as old, must
now show faith in the protection of our master, and
such courage as befitteth believers.”

“And why is it, mother,” demanded her child,
“that they seek to do us harm? have we ever done
evil to them?”

“I may not say. He that hath made the earth
hath given it to us for our uses, and reason would

-- 184 --

[figure description] Page 184.[end figure description]

seem to teach that if portions of its surface are vacant,
he that needeth truly, may occupy.”

“The savage!” whispered the child, nestling
still nearer to the bosom of her stooping parent.
“His eye glittereth like the star which hangs above
the trees.”

“Peace, daughter; his fierce nature broodeth
over some fancied wrong!”

“Surely, we are here rightfully. I have heard
my father say, that when the Lord made me a
present to his arms, our valley was a tangled forest,
and that much toil only has made it as it is.”

“I hope that what we enjoy, we enjoy rightfully!
And yet it seemeth that the savage is ready to
deny our claims.”

“And where do these bloody enemies dwell? have
they, too, valleys like this, and do the Christians
break into them to shed blood, in the night?”

“They are of wild and fierce habits, Ruth, and
little do they know of our manner of life. Woman
is not cherished as among the people of thy
father's race, for force of body is more regarded
than kinder ties.”

The little auditor shuddered, and when she buried
her face deeper in the bosom of her parent, it
was with a more quickened sense of maternal affection,
and with a livelier view, than her infant
perception had ever yet known, of the gentle charities
of kindred. When she had spoken, the matron
impressed the final kiss on the forehead of each of
the children, and asking, aloud, that God might
bless them, she turned to go to the performance of
duties that called for the exhibition of very different
qualities. Before quitting the room, however,
she once more approached the boy, and, holding the
light before his steady eye, she said solemnly—

“I trust my babes to the keeping of a young
warrior!”

-- 185 --

[figure description] Page 185.[end figure description]

The look he returned was like the others, cold
but not discouraging. A gaze of many moments
elicited no reply; and Ruth prepared to quit the
place, troubled by uncertainty concerning the intentions
of the guardian she left with the girls, while
she still trusted that the many acts of kindness
which she had shown him, during his captivity,
would not go without their reward. Her hand rested
on the bolt of the door, in indecision. The moment
was favorable to the character of the youth, for she
recalled the manner of his return that night, no less
than his former acts of faith, and she was about to
leave the passage for his egress open, when an
uproar arose on the air which filled the valley with
all the hideous cries and yells of a savage onset.
Drawing the bolt, the startled woman descended,
without further thought, and rushed to her post,
with the hurry of one who saw only the necessity
of exertion in another scene.

“Stand to the timbers, Reuben Ring! Bear back
the skulking murderers on their bloody followers!
The pikes! Here, Dudley is opening for thy valor.
The Lord have mercy on the souls of the ignorant
heathen!” mingled with the reports of musketry,
the whoops of the warriors, the whizzing of bullets
and arrows, with all the other accompaniments of
such a contest, were the fearful sounds that saluted
the senses of Ruth as she issued into the court. The
valley was occasionally lighted by the explosion of
fire-arms, and then, at times, the horrible din prevailed
in the gloom of deep darkness. Happily, in
the midst of all this confusion and violence, the
young men of the valley were true to their duties.
An alarming attempt to scale the stockade had
already been repulsed, and, the true character of
two or three feints having been ascertained, the
principal force of the garrison was now actively
employed in resisting the main attack.

-- 186 --

[figure description] Page 186.[end figure description]

“In the name of him who is with us in every
danger!” exclaimed Ruth, advancing to two figures
that were so busily engaged in their own concerns,
as not to heed her approach, “tell me how goes
the struggle? Where are my husband and the boy?—
or has it pleased Providence that any of our
people should be stricken?”

“It hath pleased the Devil,” returned Eben
Dudley, somewhat irreverently for one of that
chastened school, “to send an Indian arrow through
jerkin and skin, into this arm of mine! Softly, Faith;
dost think, girl, that the covering of man is like
the coat of a sheep, from which the fleece may be
plucked at will! I am no moulting fowl, nor is this
arrow a feather of my wing. The Lord forgive the
rogue for the ill turn he hath done my flesh, say I,
and amen like a Christian! he will have occasion
too for the mercy, seeing he hath nothing further
to hope for in this world. Now, Faith, I acknowledge
the debt of thy kindness, and let there be no more
cutting speech between us. Thy tongue often pricketh
more sorely than the Indian's arrow.”

“Whose fault is it that old acquaintance hath
sometimes been overlooked, in new conversations?
Thou knowest that, wooed by proper speech, no
maiden in the Colony is wont to render gentler
answer. Dost feel uneasiness in thine arm, Dudley?”

“ 'Tis not tickling with a straw, to drive a flint-headed
arrow to the bone! I forgive thee the matter
of too much discourse with the trooper, and all the
side-cuts of thy over-ambling tongue, on conditions
that—”

“Out upon thee, brawler! wouldst be prating
here the night long on pretence of a broken skin,
and the savage at our gates? A fine character will
the Madam render of thy deeds, when the other
youths have beaten back the Indian, and thou
loitering among the buildings!”

-- 187 --

[figure description] Page 187.[end figure description]

The discomfited borderer was about to curse in
his heart the versatile humor of his mistress, when
he saw, by a side-glance, that ears which had no
concern in the subject, had liked to have shared in
the matter of their discourse. Seizing the weapon
which was leaning against the foundation of the
block, he hurried past the mistress of the family,
and, in another minute, his voice and his musket
were again heard ringing in the uproar.

“Does he bring tidings from the palisadoes?”
repeated Ruth, too anxious that the young man
should return to his post, to arrest his retreat.
“What saith he of the onset?”

“The savage hath suffered for his boldness, and
little harm hath yet come to our people. Except
that yon block of a man hath managed to put arm
before the passage of an arrow, I know not that
any of our people have been harmed.”

“Hearken! they retire, Ruth. The yells are less
near, and our young men will prevail! Go thou to
thy charge among the piles of the fuel, and see that
no lurker remaineth to do injury. The Lord hath
remembered mercy, and it may yet arrive that this
evil shall pass away from before us!”

The quick ear of Ruth had not deceived her.
The tumult of the assault was gradually receding
from the works, and though the flashings of the
muskets and the bellowing reports that rang in the
surrounding forest were not less frequent than before,
it was plain that the critical moment of the onset
was already past. In place of the fierce effort to
carry the place by surprise, the savages had now
resorted to means that were more methodical, and
which, though not so appalling in appearance, were
perhaps quite as certain of final success. Ruth
profited by a momentary cessation in the flight of
the missiles, to seek those in whose welfare she had
placed her chief concern.

-- 188 --

[figure description] Page 188.[end figure description]

“Has other, than brave Dudley, suffered by this
assault?” demanded the anxious wife, as she passed
swiftly among a group of dusky figures that were
collected in consultation, on the brow of the declivity;
“has any need of such care as a woman's hand
may bestow? Heathcote, thy person is unharmed!”

“Truly, one of great mercy hath watched over
it, for little opportunity hath been given to look to
our own safety. I fear that some of our young men
have not regarded the covers with the attention
that prudence requires.”

“The thoughtless Mark hath not forgotten my
admonitions! Boy, thou hast never lost sight of duty
so far as to precede thy father?”

“One sees or thinks but little of the red-skins,
when the whoop is ringing among the timbers of
the palisadoes, mother,” returned the boy, dashing
his hand across his brow, in order that the drops of
blood which were trickling from a furrow left by
the passage of an arrow, might not be seen. “I
have kept near my father, but whether in his front,
or in his rear, the darkness hath not permitted me
to note.”

“The lad hath behaved in a bold and seemly
manner,” said the stranger; “and he hath shown
the metal of his grandsire's stock—ha! what is't we
see gleaming among the sheds? A sortie may be
needed, to save the granaries and thy folds from
destruction!”

“To the barns! to the barns!” shouted two of
the youths, from their several look-outs. “The
brand is in the buildings!” exclaimed a maiden who
discharged a similar duty under cover of the dwellings.
Then followed a discharge of muskets, all of
which were levelled at the glancing light that was
glaring in fearful proximity to the combustible materials
which filled the most of the out-buildings.
A savage yell, and the sudden extinguishment of the

-- 189 --

[figure description] Page 189.[end figure description]

blazing knot, announced the fatal accuracy of the
aim.

“This may not be neglected!” exclaimed Content,
moved to extraordinary excitement by the extremity
of the danger. “Father!” he called aloud, “ 'tis
fitting time to show our utmost strength.”

A moment of suspense succeeded this summons.
The whole valley was then as suddenly lighted, as
if a torrent of the electric fluid had flashed across
its gloomy bed; a sheet of flame glanced from the
attic of the block, and then came the roar of the
little piece of artillery, which had so long dwelt
there in silence. The rattling of a shot among the
sheds, and the rending of timber, followed. Fifty
dark forms were seen, by the momentary light,
gliding from among the out-buildings, in an alarm
natural to their ignorance, and with an agility proportioned
to their alarm. The moment was propitious.
Content silently motioned to Reuben Ring;
they passed the postern together, and disappeared
in the direction of the barns. The period of their
absence was one of intense care to Ruth, and it was
not without its anxiety even to those whose nerves
were better steeled. A few moments, however,
served to appease these feelings; for the adventurers
returned in safety, and as silently as they
had quitted the defences. The trampling of feet on
the crust of the snow, the neighing of horses, and the
bellowing of frightened cattle, as the terrified beasts
scattered about the fields, soon proclaimed the
object of the risk which had just been run.

“Enter!” whispered Ruth, who held the postern
with her own hand. “Enter, of Heaven's mercy!
Thou hast given liberty to every hoof, that no living
creature perish by the flames?”

“All; and truly not too speedily—for, see—the
brand is again at work!”

Content had much reason to felicitate himself on

-- 190 --

[figure description] Page 190.[end figure description]

his expedition; for, even while he spoke, half-concealed
torches, made as usual of blazing knots of
pine, were again seen glancing across the fields, evidently
approaching the out-buildings by such indirect
and covered paths, as might protect those who
bore them from the shot of the garrison. A final
and common effort was made to arrest the danger.
The muskets of the young men were active, and
more than once did the citadel of the stern old Puritan
give forth its flood of flame, in order to beat
back the dangerous visitants. A few shrieks of savage
disappointment and of bodily anguish, announced
the success of these discharges; but, though most
of those who approached the barns were either
driven back in fear, or suffered for their temerity,
one among them, more wary or more practised than
his companions, found means to effect his object.
The firing had ceased, and the besieged were congratulating
themselves on success, when a sudden
light glared across the fields. A sheet of flame soon
came curling over the crest of a wheat-stack, and
quickly wrapped the inflammable material in its
fierce torrent. Against this destruction there remained
no remedy. The barns and inclosures which,
so lately, had been lying in the darkness of the hour,
were instantly illuminated, and life would have been
the penalty paid by any of either party, who should
dare to trust his person within the bright glare. The
borderers were soon compelled to fall back, even
within the shadows of the hill, and to seek such
covers as the stockades offered, in order to avoid the
aim of the arrow or the bullet.

“This is a mournful spectacle to one that has
harvested in charity with all men;” said Content to
the trembler who convulsively grasped his arm,
as the flame whirled in the currents of the heated
air, and, sweeping once or twice across the roof of a
shed, left a portion of its torrent creeping insidiously

-- 191 --

[figure description] Page 191.[end figure description]

along the wooden covering. “The in-gathering of
a blessed season is about to melt into ashes, before
the brand of these accur—”

“Peace, Heathcote! What is wealth, or the fulness
of thy granaries, to that which remains? Check
these repinings of thy spirit, and bless God that he
leaveth us our babes, and the safety of our inner
roofs.”

“Thou sayest truly,” returned the husband, endeavoring
to imitate the meek resignation of his
companion. “What indeed are the gifts of the
world, set in the balance against the peace of mind—
ha! that evil blast of wind sealeth the destruction
of our harvest! The fierce element is in the heart
of the granaries.”

Ruth made no reply, for though less moved by
worldly cares than her husband, the frightful progress
of the conflagration alarmed her with a sense
of personal danger. The flames had passed from
roof to roof, and meeting everywhere with fuel of
the most combustible nature, the whole of the vast
range of barns, sheds, granaries, cribs and out-buildings,
was just breaking forth in the brightness of a
torrent of fire. Until this moment, suspense, with
hope on one side and apprehension on the other,
had kept both parties mute spectators of the scene.
But yells of triumph soon proclaimed the delight
with which the Indians witnessed the completion of
their fell design. The whoops followed this burst of
pleasure, and a third onset was made.

The combatants now fought under a brightness
which, though less natural, was scarcely less brilliant
than that of noon-day. Stimulated by the
prospect of success, which was offered by the conflagration,
the savages rushed upon the stockade
with more audacity than it was usual to display in
their cautious warfare. A broad shadow was cast,
by the hill and its buildings, across the fields on the

-- 192 --

[figure description] Page 192.[end figure description]

side opposite to the flames, and through this belt of
comparative gloom, the fiercest of the band made
their way to the very palisadoes, with impunity.
Their presence was announced by the yell of delight,
for too many curious eyes had been drinking in the
fearful beauty of the conflagration, to note their approach,
until the attack had nearly proved successful.
The rushes to the defence, and to the attack,
were now alike quick and headlong. Volleys were
useless, for the timbers offered equal security to both
assailant and assailed. It was a struggle of hand to
hand, in which numbers would have prevailed, had
it not been the good fortune of the weaker party to
act on the defensive. Blows of the knife were passed
swiftly between the timbers, and occasionally the
discharge of the musket, or the twanging of the bow,
was heard.

“Stand to the timbers, my men!” said the deep
tones of the stranger, who spoke in the midst of the
fierce struggle with that commanding and stirring
cheerfulness that familiarity with danger can alone
inspire. “Stand to the defences, and they are impassable.
Ha! 'twas well meant, friend savage,”
he muttered between his teeth, as he parried, at
some jeopardy to one hand, a thrust aimed at his
throat, while with the other he seized the warrior
who had inflicted the blow, and drawing his naked
breast, with the power of a giant, full against the
opening between the timbers, he buried his own
keen blade to its haft in the body. The eyes of the
victim rolled wildly, and when the iron hand which
bound him to the wood, with the power of a vice,
loosened its grasp, he fell motionless on the earth.
This death was succeeded by the usual yell of
disappointment, and the assailants disappeared, as
swiftly as they had approached.

“God be praised, that we have to rejoice in this
advantage!” said Content, enumerating the

-- 193 --

[figure description] Page 193.[end figure description]

individuals of his force, with an anxious eye, when all were
again assembled at the stand on the hill, where, favored
by the glaring light, they could overlook, in
comparative security, the more exposed parts of
their defences. “We count our own, though I fear
me, many may have suffered.”

The silence and the occupations of his listeners,
most of whom were stanching their blood, was a
sufficient answer.

“Hist, father!” said the quick-eyed and observant
Mark; “one remaineth on the palisado nearest the
wicket. Is it a savage? or do I see a stump, in the
field beyond?”

All eyes followed the direction of the hand of the
speaker, and there was seen, of a certainty, something
clinging to the inner side of one of the timbers,
that bore a marked resemblance to the human form.
The part of the stockades, where the seeming figure
clung, lay more in obscurity than the rest of the
defences, and doubts as to its character were not
alone confined to the quick-sighted lad who had first
detected its presence.

“Who hangs upon our palisadoes?” called Eben
Dudley. “Speak, that we do not harm a friend!”

The wood itself was not more immovable than
the dark object, until the report of the borderer's
musket was heard, and then it came tumbling to
the earth like an insensible mass.

“Fallen like a stricken bear from his tree! Life
was in it, or no bullet of mine could have loosened
the hold!” exclaimed Dudley, a little in exultation,
as he saw the success of his aim.

“I will go forward, and see that he is past—”

The mouth of young Mark, was stopped by the
hand of the stranger, who calmly observed—

“I will look into the fate of the heathen, myself.”
He was about to proceed to the spot, when the supposed
dead, or wounded man, sprang to his feet, with

-- 194 --

[figure description] Page 194.[end figure description]

a yell that rang in echoes along the margin of the
forest, and bounded towards the cover of the buildings,
with high and active leaps. Two or three muskets
sent their streaks of flame across his path, but
seemingly without success. Jumping in a manner to
elude the certainty of their fire, the unharmed savage
gave forth another yell of triumph, and disappeared
among the angles of the dwellings. His cries
were understood, for answering whoops were heard
in the fields, and the foe without again rallied to the
attack.

“This may not be neglected,” said he who, more
by his self-possession and air of authority, than by
any known right to command, had insensibly assumed
so much authority in the important business
of that night. “One like this, within our walls, may
quickly bring destruction on the garrison. The postern
may be opened to an inroad—”

“A triple lock secures it,” interrupted Content.
“The key is hid where none know to seek it, other
than such as are of our household.”

“And happily the means of passing the private
wicket are in my possession,” muttered the other,
in an under tone. “So far, well; but the brand!
the brand! the maidens must look to the fires and
lights, while the youths make good the stockade,
since this assault admitteth not of further delay.”

So saying, the stranger gave an example of courage
by proceeding to his stand at the pickets, where,
supported by his companions, he continued to defend
the approaches against a discharge of arrows and
bullets that was more distant, but scarcely less dangerous
to the safety of those who showed themselves
on the side of the acclivity, than those which had
been previously showered upon the garrison.

In the mean time, Ruth summoned her assistants,
and hastened to discharge the duty which had just
been prescribed. Water was cast freely on all

-- 195 --

[figure description] Page 195.[end figure description]

the fires, and, as the still raging conflagration continued
to give far more light than was either necessary
or safe, care was taken to extinguish any torch
or candle that, in the hurry of alarm, might have
been left to moulder in its socket, throughout the
extensive range of the dwellings and the offices.

CHAPTER XIV.

“Thou mild, sad mother—
Quit him not so soon!
Mother, in mercy, stay!
Despair and death are with him; and canst thou,
With that kind, earthward look, go leave him now?”
Dana.

When these precautions were taken, the females
returned to their several look-outs; and Ruth, whose
duty it was in moments of danger to exercise a general
superintendence, was left to her meditations
and to such watchfulness as her fears might excite.
Quitting the inner rooms, she approached the door
that communicated with the court, and for a moment
lost the recollection of her immediate cares
in a view of the imposing scene by which she was
surrounded.

By this time, the whole of the vast range of out-buildings,
which had been constructed, as was usual
in the Colonies, of the most combustible materials
and with no regard to the expenditure of wood, was
wrapt in fire. Notwithstanding the position of the
intermediate edifices, broad flashes of light were
constantly crossing the court itself, on whose surface
she was able to distinguish the smallest object, while
the heavens above her were glaring with a lurid
red. Through the openings between the buildings
of the quadrangle, the eye could look out upon the

-- 196 --

[figure description] Page 196.[end figure description]

fields, where she saw every evidence of a sullen intention
on the part of the savages to persevere in
their object. Dark, fierce-looking, and nearly maked
human forms were seen flitting from cover to cover
while there was no stump nor log within arrow's-flight
of the defences, that did not protect the person
of a daring and indefatigable enemy. It was
plain the Indians were there in hundreds, and as
the assaults continued after the failure of a surprise,
it was too evident that they were bent on victory,
at some hazard to themselves. No usual means of
adding to the horrors of the scene were neglected.
Whoops and yells were incessantly ringing around
the place, while the loud and often-repeated tones
of a conch betrayed the artifice by which the savages
had so often endeavored, in the earlier part of
the night, to lure the garrison out of the palisadoes.
A few scattering shot, discharged with deliberation
and from every exposed point within the works,
proclaimed both the coolness and the vigilance of
the defendants. The little gun in the block-house
was silent, for the Puritan knew too well its real
power to lessen its reputation by a too frequent use.
The weapon was therefore reserved for those moments
of pressing danger that would be sure to arrive.

On this spectacle Ruth gazed in fearful sadness.
The long-sustained and sylvan security of her abode
was violently destroyed; and in the place of a quiet
which had approached as near as may be on earth
to that holy peace for which her spirit strove, she
and all she most loved were suddenly confronted to
the most frightful exhibition of human horrors. In
such a moment, the feelings of a mother were likely
to revive; and ere time was given for reflection,
aided by the light of the conflagration, the matron
was moving swiftly through the intricate passages

-- 197 --

[figure description] Page 197.[end figure description]

of the dwelling, in quest of those whom she had
placed in the security of the chambers.

“Thou hast remembered to avoid looking on the
fields, my children,” said the nearly breathless woman
as she entered the room. “Be thankful, babes;
hitherto the efforts of the savages have been vain,
and we still remain masters of our habitations.”

“Why is the night so red? Come hither, mother;
thou mayest look into the wood as if the sun were
shining!”

“The heathens have fired our granaries, and
what thou seest is the light of the flames. But
happily they cannot put brand into the dwellings,
while thy father and the young men stand to their
weapons. We must be grateful for this security,
frail as it seemeth. Thou hast knelt, my Ruth; and
hast remembered to think of thy father and brother
in thy prayers.”

“I will do so again, mother,” whispered the child,
bending to her knees, and wrapping her young features
in the garments of the matron.

“Why hide thy countenance? One young and
innocent as thou, may lift thine eyes to Heaven with
confidence.”

“Mother, I see the Indian, unless my face be
hid. He looketh at me, I fear, with wish to do us
harm.”

“Thou art not just to Miantonimoh, child,” answered
Ruth, as she glanced her eye rapidly round
to seek the boy, who had modestly withdrawn into
a remote and shaded corner of the room. “I left
him with thee for a guardian, and not as one who
would wish to injure. Now think of thy God, child,”
imprinting a kiss on the cold, marble-like forehead
of her daughter, “and have reliance in his goodness.
Miantonimoh, I again leave you with a charge
to be their protector,” she added, quitting her daughter
and advancing towards the youth.

-- 198 --

[figure description] Page 198.[end figure description]

“Mother!” shrieked the child, “come to me, or
I die!”

Ruth turned from the listening captive, with the
quickness of instinct. A glance showed her the
jeopardy of her offspring. A naked savage, dark,
powerful of frame, and fierce in the frightful masquerade
of his war-paint, stood winding the silken
hair of the girl in one hand, while he already held
the glittering axe above a head that seemed inevitably
devoted to destruction.

“Mercy! mercy!” exclaimed Ruth, hoarse with
horror, and dropping to her knees, as much from
inability to stand as with intent to petition. “Monster,
strike me, but spare the child!”

The eyes of the Indian rolled over the person of
the speaker, but it was with an expression that
seemed rather to enumerate the number of his victims,
than to announce any change of purpose.
With a fiend-like coolness, that bespoke much
knowledge of the ruthless practice, he again swung
the quivering but speechless child in the air, and
prepared to direct the weapon with a fell certainty
of aim. The tomahawk had made its last circuit,
and an instant would have decided the fate of the
victim, when the captive boy stood in front of the
frightful actor in this revolting scene. By a quick,
forward movement of his arm, the blow was arrested.
The deep guttural ejaculation, which betrays
the surprise of an Indian, broke from the chest of
the savage, while his hand fell to his side, and the
form of the suspended girl was suffered again to
touch the floor. The look and gesture with which
the boy had interfered, expressed authority rather
than resentment or horror. His air was calm, collected,
and, as it appeared by the effect, imposing.

“Go,” he said in the language of the fierce people
from whom he had sprung; “the warriors of
the pale men are calling thee by name.”

-- 199 --

[figure description] Page 199.[end figure description]

“The snow is red with the blood of our young
men,” the other fiercely answered; “and not a
scalp is at the belt of my people.”

“These are mine,” returned the boy with dignity,
sweeping his arm, while speaking, in a manner to
show that he extended protection to all present.

The warrior gazed about him grimly, and like
one but half-convinced. He had incurred a danger
too fearful, in entering the stockade, to be easily
diverted from his purpose.

“Listen!” he continued, after a short pause, during
which the artillery of the Puritan had again
bellowed in the uproar, without. “The thunder is
with the Yengeese! Our young women will look
another way and call us Pequots, should there be
no scalps on our pole.”

For a single moment, the countenance of the boy
changed, and his resolution seemed to waver. The
other, who watched his eyes with longing eagerness,
again seized his victim by the hair, when Ruth
shrieked in the accents of despair—

“Boy! boy! if thou art not with us, God hath
deserted us!”

“She is mine,” burst fiercely from the lips of the
lad. “Hear my words, Wompahwisset; the blood
of my father is very warm within me.”

The other paused, and the blow was once more
suspended. The glaring eye-balls of the savage
rested intently on the swelling form and stern countenance
of the young hero, whose uplifted hand
appeared to menace instant punishment, should be
dare to disregard the mediation. The lips of the
warrior severed, and the word `Miantonimoh' was
uttered as softly as if it recalled a feeling of sorrow.
Then, as a sudden burst of yells rose above
the roar of the conflagration, the fierce Indian
turned in his tracks, and, abandoning the trembling

-- 200 --

[figure description] Page 200.[end figure description]

and nearly insensible child, he bounded away like
a hound loosened on a fresh scent of blood.

“Boy! boy!” murmured the mother; “heathen
or Christian, there is one that will bless thee!—”

A rapid gesture of the hand interrupted the
fervent expression of her gratitude. Pointing after
the form of the retreating savage, the lad encircled
his own head with a finger, in a manner that could
not be mistaken, as he uttered steadily, but with the
deep emphasis of an Indian—

“The young Pale-face has a scalp!”

Ruth heard no more. With instinctive rapidity,
every feeling of her soul quickened nearly to agony,
she rushed below, in order to warn Mark against
the machinations of so fearful an enemy. Her step
was heard but for a moment in the vacant chambers,
and then the Indian boy, whose steadiness and authority
had just been so signally exerted in favor
of the children, resumed his attitude of mediation,
as quietly as if he took no further interest in the
frightful events of the night.

The situation of the garrison was now, indeed, to
the last degree critical. A torrent of fire had passed
from the further extremity of the out-houses to that
which stood nearest to the defences, and, as building
after building melted beneath its raging power, the
palisadoes became heated nearly to the point of
ignition. The alarm created by this imminent danger
had already been given, and, when Ruth issued
into the court, a female was rushing past her, seemingly
on some errand of the last necessity.

“Hast seen him?” demanded the breathless mother,
arresting the steps of the quick-moving girl.

“Not since the savage made his last onset, but I
warrant me he may be found near the western loops,
making good the works against the enemy!”

“Surely he is not foremost in the fray! Of whom
speakest thou, Faith? I questioned thee of Mark.

-- 201 --

[figure description] Page 201.[end figure description]

There is one, even now, raging within the pickets,
seeking a victim.”

“Truly, I thought it had been question of—
the boy is with his father and the stranger soldier,
who does such deeds of valor in our behalf. I have
seen no enemy within the palisadoes, Madam Heathcote,
since the entry of the man who escaped, by
favor of the powers of darkness, from the shot of
Eben Dudley's musket.”

“And is this evil like to pass from us,” resumed
Ruth, breathing more freely, as she learned the
safety of her son; “or does Providence veil its face
in anger?”

“We keep our own, though the savage hath
pressed the young men to extremity. Oh! it gladdened
heart to see how brave a guard Reuben Ring,
and others near him, made in our behalf. I do think
me, Madam Heathcote, that, after all, there is real
manhood in the brawler Dudley! Truly, the youth
hath done marvels in the way of exposure and
resistance. Twenty times this night have I expected
to see him slain.”

“And he that lyeth there?” half-whispered the
alarmed Ruth, pointing to a spot near them, where,
aside from the movements of those who still acted
in the bustle of the combat, one lay stretched on
the earth—“who hath fallen?”

The cheek of Faith blanched to a whiteness that
nearly equalled that of the linen, which, even in
the hurry of such a scene, some friendly hand had
found leisure to throw, in decent sadness, over the
form.

“That!” said the faltering girl; “though hurt
and bleeding, my brother Reuben surely keepeth
the loop at the western angle; nor is Whittal wanting
in sufficient sense to take heed of danger—This
may not be the stranger, for under the covers of the

-- 202 --

[figure description] Page 202.[end figure description]

postern breast-work he holdeth counsel with the
young captain.”

“Art certain, girl?”

“I saw them both within the minute. Would to
God we could hear the shout of noisy Dudley, Madam
Heathcote: his cry cheereth the heart, in a moment
awful as this!”

“Lift the cloth,” said Ruth with calm solemnity,
“that we may know which of our friends hath been
called to the great account.”

Faith hesitated, and when, by a powerful effort,
in which secret interest had as deep an influence
as obedience, she did comply, it was with a sort of
desperate resolution. On raising the linen, the eyes
of the two women rested on the pallid countenance
of one who had been transfixed by an iron-headed
arrow. The girl dropped the linen, and in a voice
that sounded like a burst of hysterical feeling, she
exclaimed—

“'Tis but the youth that came lately among us!
We are spared the loss of any ancient friend.”

“Tis one who died for our safety. I would give
largely of this world's comforts, that this calamity
might not have been, or that greater leisure for the
last fearful reckoning had been accorded. But we
may not lose the moments in mourning. Hie thee,
girl, and sound the alarm that a savage lurketh
within our walls, and that he skulketh in quest of a
secret blow. Bid all be wary. If the young Mark
should cross thy path, speak to him twice of this
danger; the child hath a froward spirit, and may
not hearken to words uttered in too great hurry.”

With this charge, Ruth quitted her maiden.
While the latter proceeded to give the necessary
notice, the other sought the spot where she had
just learned there was reason to believe her husband
might be found.

Content and the stranger were in fact met in

-- 203 --

[figure description] Page 203.[end figure description]

consultation over the danger which threatened destruction
to their most important means of defence.
The savages themselves appeared to be conscious
that the flames were working in their favor; for
their efforts sensibly slackened, and having already
severely suffered in their attempts to annoy the
garrison, they had fallen back to their covers, and
awaited the moment when their practised cunning
should tell them they might, with more flattering
promises of success, again rally to the onset. A brief
explanation served to make Ruth acquainted with
the imminent jeopardy of their situation. Under a
sense of a more appalling danger, she lost the recollection
of her former purpose, and with a contracted
and sorrowing eye, she stood like her companions,
in impotent helplessness, an entranced spectator
of the progress of the destruction.

“A soldier should not waste words in useless
plaints,” observed the stranger, folding his arms
like one who was conscious that human effort could
do no more, “else should I say, 'tis pity that he who
drew yon line of stockade hath not remembered
the uses of the ditch.”

“I will summon the maidens to the wells,” said
Ruth.

“'Twill not avail us. The arrow would be among
them, nor could mortal long endure the heat of
yon glowing furnace. Thou seest that the timbers
already smoke and blacken, under its fierceness.”

The stranger was still speaking, when a small
quivering flame played on the corners of the palisado
nearest the burning pile. The element fluttered
like a waving line along the edges of the heated
wood, after which it spread over the whole surface
of the timber, from its larger base to the pointed
summit. As if this had merely been the signal of a
general destruction, the flames kindled in fifty places
at the same instant, and then the whole line of

-- 204 --

[figure description] Page 204.[end figure description]

the stockade, nearest the conflagration, was covered
with fire. A yell of triumph arose in the fields,
and a flight of arrows, sailing tauntingly into the
works, announced the fierce impatience of those
who watched the increase of the conflagration.

“We shall be driven to our block,” said Content.
“Assemble thy maidens, Ruth, and make speedy
preparation for the last retreat.”

“I go; but hazard not thy life in any vain endeavor
to retard the flames. There will yet be
time for all that is needful to our security.”

“I know not,” hurriedly observed the stranger.
“Here cometh the assault in a new aspect!”

The feet of Ruth were arrested. On looking upward,
she saw the object which had drawn this
remark from the last speaker. A small bright ball
of fire had arisen out of the fields, and, describing
an arc in the air, it sailed above their heads and
fell on the shingles of a building which formed part
of the quadrangle of the inner court. The movement
was that of an arrow thrown from a distant
bow, and its way was to be traced by a long trail
of light, that followed its course like a blazing meteor.
This burning arrow had been sent with a cool
and practised judgment. It lighted upon a portion
of the combustibles that were nearly as inflammable
as gunpowder, and the eye had scarcely succeeded
in tracing it to its fall, ere the bright flames
were seen stealing over the heated roof.

“One struggle for our habitations!” cried Content—
but the hand of the stranger was placed firmly
on his shoulder. At that instant, a dozen similar
meteor-looking balls shot into the air, and fell in
as many different places on the already half-kindled
pile. Further efforts would have been useless.
Relinquishing the hope of saving his property, every
thought was now given to personal safety.

Ruth recovered from her short trance, and

-- 205 --

[figure description] Page 205.[end figure description]

hastened with hurried steps to perform her well-known
office. Then came a few minutes of exertion, during
which the females transferred all that was necessary
to their subsistence, and which had not
been already provided in the block, to their little
citadel. The glowing light, which penetrated the
darkest passages among the buildings, prevented
this movement from being made without discovery.
The whoop summoned their enemies to another attack.
The arrows thickened in the air, and the important
duty was not performed without risk, as all
were obliged, in some degree, to expose their persons,
while passing to and fro, loaded with necessaries.
The gathering smoke, however, served in
some measure for a screen; and it was not long before
Content received the welcome tidings that he
might command the retreat of his young men from
the palisadoes. The conch sounded the necessary
signal, and ere the foe had time to understand its
meaning, or profit by the defenceless state of the
works, every individual within them had reached
the door of the block in safety. Still, there was
more of hurry and confusion than altogether comported
with their safety. They who were assigned
to that duty, however, mounted eagerly to the loops,
and stood in readiness to pour out their fire on whoever
might dare to come within its reach, while a
few still lingered in the court, to see that no necessary
provision for resistance, or of safety, was forgotten.
Ruth had been foremost in exertion, and
she now stood pressing her hands to her temples,
like one whose mind was bewildered by her own
efforts.

“Our fallen friend!” she said. “Shall we leave
his remains to be mangled by the savage?”

“Surely not; Dudley, thy hand. We will bear
the body within the lower—ha! death hath
struck another of our family.”

-- 206 --

[figure description] Page 206.[end figure description]

The alarm with which Content made this discovery
passed quickly to all in hearing. It was but
too apparent, by the shape of the linen, that two
bodies lay beneath its folds. Anxious and rapid
looks were cast from face to face, in order to learn
who was missing; and then, conscious of the hazard
of further delay, Content raised the linen, in order
to remove all doubts by certainty. The form of the
young borderer, who was known to have fallen,
was first slowly and reverently uncovered; but even
the most self-restrained among the spectators started
back in horror, as his robbed and reeking head
showed that a savage hand had worked its ruthless
will on the unresisting corpse.

“The other!” Ruth struggled to say, and it was
only as her husband had half removed the linen
that she could succeed in uttering the words—“Beware
the other!”

The warning was not useless, for the linen waved
violently as it rose under the hand of Content, and
a grim Indian sprang into the very centre of the
startled group. Sweeping his armed hand widely
about him, the savage broke through the receding
circle, and, giving forth the appalling whoop of his
tribe, he bounded into the open door of the principal
dwelling, so swiftly as utterly to defeat any design
of pursuit. The arms of Ruth were frantically
extended towards the place where he had disappeared,
and she was about to rush madly on his
footsteps, when the hand of her husband stopped
the movement.

“Wouldst hazard life, to save some worthless
trifle?”

“Husband, release me!” returned the woman,
nearly choked with her agony—“nature hath slept
within me!”

“Fear blindeth thy reason!”

The form of Ruth ceased to struggle. All the

-- 207 --

[figure description] Page 207.[end figure description]

madness, which had been glaring wildly about her
eyes, disappeared in the settled look of an almost
preternatural calm. Collecting the whole of her
mental energy in one desperate effort of self-command,
she turned to her husband, and, as her bosom
swelled with the terror that seemed to stop her
breath, she said in a voice that was frightful by its
composure—

“If thou hast a father's heart, release me!—Our
babes have been forgotten!”

The hand of Content relaxed its hold, and, in
another instant, the form of his wife was lost to
view on the track that had just been taken by the
successful savage. This was the luckless moment
chosen by the foe to push his advantage. A fierce
burst of yells proclaimed the activity of the assailants,
and a general discharge from the loops of the
block-house sufficiently apprised those in the court
that the onset of the enemy was now pushed into
the very heart of the defences. All had mounted,
but the few who lingered to discharge the melancholy
duty to the dead. They were too few to render
resistance prudent, and yet too many to think
of deserting the distracted mother and her offspring
without an effort.

“Enter,” said Content, pointing to the door of
the block. “It is my duty to share the fate of those
nearest my blood.”

The stranger made no answer. Placing his powerful
hands on the nearly stupified husband, he
thrust his person, by an irresistible effort, within
the basement of the building, and then he signed,
by a quick gesture, for all around him to follow.
After the last form had entered, he commanded
that the fastenings of the door should be secured,
remaining himself, as he believed, alone without.
But when by a rapid glance he saw there was
another gazing in dull awe on the features of the

-- 208 --

[figure description] Page 208.[end figure description]

fallen man, it was too late to rectify the mistake.
Yells were now rising out of the black smoke, that
was rolling in volumes from the heated buildings,
and it was plain that only a few feet divided them
from their pursuers. Beckoning the man who had
been excluded from the block to follow, the stern
soldier rushed into the principal dwelling, which was
still but little injured by the fire. Guided rather by
chance than by any knowledge of the windings of the
building, he soon found himself in the chambers. He
was now at a loss whither to proceed. At that moment,
his companion, who was no other than Whittal
Ring, took the lead, and in another instant, they
were at the door of the secret apartment.

“Hist!” said the stranger, raising a hand to command
silence as he entered the room. “Our hope is
in secrecy.”

“And how may we escape without detection?”
demanded the mother, pointing about her at objects
illuminated by a light so powerful as to penetrate
every cranny of the ill-constructed building. “The
noon-day sun is scarce brighter than this dreadful
fire!”

“God is in the elements! His guiding hand shall
point the way. But here we may not tarry, for the
flames are already on the shingles. Follow, and
speak not.”

Ruth pressed the children to her side, and the
whole party left the apartment of the attic in a
body. Their descent to a lower room was made
quickly, and without discovery. But here their leader
paused, for the state of things without was one
to demand the utmost steadines of nerve, and great
reflection.

The Indians had by this time gained command of
the whole of Mark Heathcote's possessions, with the
exception of the block-house; and as their first act
had been to apply the brand wherever it might

-- 209 --

[figure description] Page 209.[end figure description]

be wanting, the roar of the conflagration was now
heard in every direction. The discharge of muskets
and the whoops of the combatants, however, while
they added to the horrible din of such a scene, proclaimed
the unconquered resolution of those who
held the citadel. A window of the room they occupied
enabled the stranger to take a cautious survey
of what was passing without. The court, lighted
to the brilliancy of day, was empty; for the increasing
heat of the fires, no less than the discharges from
the loops, still kept the cautious savages to their
covers. There was barely hope, that the space between
the dwelling and the block-house might yet
be passed in safety.

“I would I had asked that the door of the block
should be held in hand,” muttered Submission; “it
would be death to linger an instant in that fierce
light; nor have we any manner of—”

A touch was laid upon his arm, and turning, the
speaker saw the dark eye of the captive boy looking
steadily in his face.

“Wilt do it?” demanded the other, in a manner
to show that he doubted, while he hoped.

A speaking gesture of assent was the answer, and
then the form of the lad was seen gliding quietly
from the room.

Another instant, and Miantonimoh appeared in
the court. He walked with the deliberation that
one would have shown in moments of the most entire
security. A hand was raised towards the loops,
as if to betoken amity, and then dropping the limb,
he moved with the same slow step into the very
centre of the area. Here the boy stood in the fullest
glare of the conflagration, and turned his face deliberately
on every side of him. The action showed
that he wished to invite all eyes to examine his person.
At this moment the yells ceased in the surrounding
covers, proclaiming alike the common feeling

-- 210 --

[figure description] Page 210.[end figure description]

that was awakened by his appearance, and the
hazard that any other would have incurred by exposing
himself in that fearful scene. When this
act of exceeding confidence had been performed,
the boy drew a pace nearer to the entrance of the
block.

“Comest thou in peace, or is this another device
of Indian treachery?” demanded a voice, through
an opening in the door left expressly for the purposes
of parley.

The boy raised the palm of one hand towards the
speaker, while he laid the other with a gesture of
confidence on his naked breast.

“Hast aught to offer in behalf of my wife and
babes? If gold will buy their ransom, name thy
price.”

Miantonimoh was at no loss to comprehend the
other's meaning. With the readiness of one whose
faculties had been early schooled in the inventions
of emergencies, he made a gesture that said even
more than his figurative words, as he answered—

“Can a woman of the Pale-faces pass through
wood? An Indian arrow is swifter than the foot of
my mother.”

“Boy, I trust thee,” returned the voice from within
the loop. “If thou deceivest beings so feeble and
so innocent, Heaven will remember the wrong.”

Miantonimoh again made a sign to show that
caution must be used, and then he retired with a
step calm and measured as that used in his advance.
Another pause to the shouts betrayed the interest
of those whose fierce eyes watched his movements
in the distance.

When the young Indian had rejoined the party in
the dwelling, he led them, without being observed
by the lurking band that still hovered in the smoke
of the surrounding buildings, to a spot that commanded
a full view of their short but perilous route. At

-- 211 --

[figure description] Page 211.[end figure description]

this moment the door of the block-house half-opened,
and was closed again. Still the stranger hesitated,
for he saw how little was the chance that all should
cross the court unharmed, and to pass it by repeated
trials he knew to be impossible.

“Boy,” he said, “thou, who hast done thus much,
may still do more. Ask mercy for these children,
in some manner that may touch the hearts of thy
people.”

Miantonimoh shook his head, and pointing to the
ghastly corpse that lay in the court, he answered
coldly—

“The red-man has tasted blood.”

“Then must the desperate trial be done! Think
not of thy children, devoted and daring mother, but
look only to thine own safety. This witless youth
and I will charge ourselves with the care of the
innocents.”

Ruth waved him away with her hand, pressing
her mute and trembling daughter to her bosom, in a
manner to show that her resolution was taken. The
stranger yielded, and turning to Whittal, who stood
near him, seemingly as much occupied in vacant admiration
of the blazing piles as in any apprehension
of his own personal danger, he bade him look to the
safety of the remaining child. Moving in front himself,
he was about to offer Ruth such protection as
the case afforded, when a window in the rear of the
house was dashed inward, announcing the entrance
of the enemy, and the imminent danger that their
flight would be intercepted. There was no time to
lose, for it was now certain that only a single room
separated them from their foes. The generous nature
of Ruth was roused, and catching Martha from
the arms of Whittal Ring, she endeavored, by a
desperate effort, in which feeling rather than any
reasonable motive predominated, to envelop both
the children in her robe.

-- 212 --

[figure description] Page 212.[end figure description]

“I am with ye!” whispered the agitated woman;
“hush ye, hush ye, babes! thy mother is nigh!”

The stranger was very differently employed. The
instant the crash of glass was heard, he rushed to
the rear; and he had already grappled with the
savage so often named, and who acted as guide to a
dozen fierce and yelling followers.

“To the block!” shouted the steady soldier,
while with a powerful arm he held his enemy in the
throat of the narrow passage, stopping the approach
of those in the rear by the body of his foe. “For
the love of life and children, woman, to the block!”

The summons rang frightfully in the ears of Ruth,
but in that moment of extreme jeopardy her presence
of mind was lost. The cry was repeated, and
not till then did the bewildered mother catch her
daughter from the floor. With eyes still bent on
the fierce struggle in her rear, she clasped the child
to her heart and fled, calling on Whittal Ring to follow.
The lad obeyed, and ere she had half-crossed
the court, the stranger, still holding his savage shield
between him and his enemies, was seen endeavoring
to take the same direction. The whoops, the flight
of arrows, and the discharges of musquetry, that
succeeded, proclaimed the whole extent of the danger.
But fear had lent unnatural vigor to the limbs
of Ruth, and the gliding arrows themselves scarce
sailed more swiftly through the heated air, than she
darted into the open door of the block. Whittal
Ring was less successful. As he crossed the court,
bearing the child intrusted to his care, an arrow
pierced his flesh. Stung by the pain, the witless
lad turned, in anger, to chide the hand that had inflicted
the injury.

“On, foolish boy!” cried the stranger, as he passed
him, still making a target of the body of the savage
that was writhing in his grasp. “On, for thy
life, and that of the babe!”

-- 213 --

[figure description] Page 213.[end figure description]

The mandate came too late. The hand of an
Indian was already on the innocent victim, and in
the next instant the child was sweeping the air,
while with a short yell the keen axe flourished
above his head. A shot from the loops laid the monster
dead in his tracks. The girl was instantly seized
by another hand, and as the captor with his prize
darted unharmed into the dwelling, there arose in
the block a common exclamation of the name of
“Miantonimoh!” Two more of the savages profited
by the pause of horror that followed, to lay hands
on the wounded Whittal and to drag him within the
blazing building. At the same moment, the stranger
cast the unresisting savage back upon the weapons
of his companions. The bleeding and half-strangled
Indian met the blows which had been aimed at
the life of the soldier, and as he staggered and fell,
his vigorous conqueror disappeared in the block.
The door of the little citadel was instantly closed,
and the savages, who rushed headlong against the
entrance, heard the fitting of the bars which secured
it against their attacks. The yell of retreat was
raised, and in the next instant the court was left to
the possession of the dead.

-- 214 --

CHAPTER XV.

[figure description] Page 214.[end figure description]

“Did Heaven look on,
And would not take their part?——:
Heaven rest them now!”

Macbeth.

We will be thankful for this blessing,” said Content,
as he aided the half-unconscious Ruth to mount
the ladder, yielding himself to a feeling of nature
that said little against his manhood. “If we have
lost one that we loved, God hath spared our own
child.”

His breathless wife threw herself into a seat, and
folding the treasure to her bosom, she whispered
rather than said aloud—“From my soul, Heathcote,
am I grateful!”

“Thou shieldest the babe from my sight,” returned
the father, stooping to conceal a tear that was
stealing down his brown cheek, under a pretence of
embracing the child—but suddenly recoiling, he
added in alarm—“Ruth!”

Startled by the tone in which her husband uttered
her name, the mother threw aside the folds of
her dress, which still concealed the girl, and stretching
her out to the length of an arm, she saw that,
in the hurry of the appalling scene, the children
had been exchanged, and that she had saved the
life of Martha!

Notwithstanding the generous disposition of Ruth,
it was impossible to repress the feeling of disappointment
which came over her with the consciousness
of the mistake. Nature at first had sway, and to a
degree that was fearfully powerful.

“It is not our babe!” shrieked the mother, still
holding the child at the length of her arm, and

-- 215 --

[figure description] Page 215.[end figure description]

gazing at its innocent and terrified countenance,
with an expression that Martha had never yet seen
gleaming from eyes that were, in common, so soft
and so indulgent.

“I am thine! I am thine!” murmured the little
trembler, struggling in vain to reach the bosom that
had so long cherished her infancy. “If not thine,
whose am I?”

The gaze of Ruth was still wild, the workings of
her features hysterical.

“Madam—Mrs. Heathcote—mother!” came timidly,
and at intervals, from the lips of the orphan.
Then the heart of Ruth relented. She clasped the
daughter of her friend to her breast, and Nature
found a temporary relief in one of those frightful
exhibitions of anguish, which appear to threaten
the dissolution of the link which connects the soul
with the body.

“Come, daughter of John Harding,” said Content,
looking around him with the assumed composure of
a chastened man, while natural regret struggled
hard at his heart; “this has been God's pleasure;
it is meet that we kiss his parental hand. Let us be
thankful,” he added, with a quivering lip but steady
eye, “that even this mercy hath been shown. Our
babe is with the Indian, but our hopes are far beyond
the reach of savage malignity. We have not `laid
up treasure where moth and rust can corrupt, or
where thieves may break in and steal.' It may be
that the morning shall bring means of parley, and
haply, opportunity of ransom.”

There was the glimmering of hope in this suggestion.
The idea seemed to give a new direction to
the thoughts of Ruth, and the change enabled the
long habits of self-restraint to regain something of
their former ascendancy. The fountains of her tears
became dry, and, after one short and terrible struggle,
she was again enabled to appear composed. But

-- 216 --

[figure description] Page 216.[end figure description]

at no time during the continuance of that fearful
struggle, was Ruth Heathcote again the same ready
and useful agent of activity and order that she had
been in the earlier events of the night.

It is scarcely necessary to remind the reader that
the brief burst of parental agony which has just
been related, escaped Content and his wife amid a
scene in which the other actors were too much occupied
by their exertions to note its exhibition. The
fate of those in the block was too evidently approaching
its close, to allow of any interest in such an
episode to the great tragedy of the moment.

The character of the contest had in some measure
changed. There was no longer any immediate apprehension
from the missiles of the assailants, though
danger pressed upon the besieged in a new and even
in a more horrible aspect. Now and then indeed an
arrow quivered in the openings of the loops, and
the blunt Dudley had once a narrow escape from
the passage of a bullet, which, guided by chance,
or aimed by a hand surer than common, glanced
through one of the narrow slits, and would have
terminated the history of the borderer, had not the
head it obliquely encountered, been too solid to
yield even to such an assault. The attention of the
garrison was chiefly called to the imminent danger
of the surrounding fire. Though the probability of
such an emergency as that in which the family was
now placed, had certainly been foreseen, and in
some degree guarded against, in the size of the
area and in the construction of the block, yet it
was found that the danger exceeded all former
calculations.

For the basement, there was no reason to feel
alarm. It was of stone, and of a thickness and a
material to put at defiance any artifices that their
enemy might find time to practise. Even the two
upper stories were comparatively safe; for they

-- 217 --

[figure description] Page 217.[end figure description]

were composed of blocks so solid as to require time
to heat them, and they were consequently as little
liable to combustion as wood well could be. But
the roof, like all of that, and indeed, like most of
the present day in America, was composed of short
inflammable shingles of pine. The superior height
of the tower was some little protection, but as the
flames rose roaring above the buildings of the court,
and waved in wide circuits around the heated area,
the whole of the fragile covering of the block was
often wrapped in folds of fire. The result may be
anticipated. Content was first recalled from the
bitterness of his parental regret, by a cry, which
passed among the family, that the roof of their
little citadel was in flames. One of the ordinary
wells of the habitation was in the basement of the
edifice, and it was fortunate that no precaution
necessary to render it serviceable in an emergency
like that which was now arrived, had been neglected.
A well-secured shaft of stone rose through the lower
apartment into the upper floor. Profiting by this
happy precaution, the handmaidens of Ruth plied
the buckets with diligence, while the young men
cast water freely on the roof, from the windows of
the attic. The latter duty, it may readily be supposed,
was not performed without hazard. Flights
of arrows were constantly directed against the laborers,
and more than one of the youths received
greater or less injuries, while exposed to their annoyance.
There were indeed a few minutes, during
which it remained a question of grave interest how
far the risk they ran was likely to be crowned with
success. The excessive heat of so many fires, and
the occasional contact with the flames, as they
swept in eddies over the place, began to render it
doubtful whether any human efforts could long
arrest the evil. Even the massive and moistened
logs of the body of the work began to smoke; and

-- 218 --

[figure description] Page 218.[end figure description]

it was found, by experiment, that the hand could
rest but a moment on their surface.

During this interval of deep suspense, all the men
posted at the loops were called to aid in extinguishing
the fire. Resistance was forgotten in the discharge
of a duty that had become still more pressing. Ruth
herself was aroused by the nature of the alarm,
and all hands and all minds were arduously occupied
in a toil that diverted attention from incidents
which had less interest, because they were teeming
less with instant destruction. Danger is known to
lose its terrors by familiarity. The young borderers
became reckless of their persons in the ardor of
exertion, and as success began to crown their efforts,
something like the levity of happier moments got
the better of their concern. Stolen and curious
glances were thrown around a place that had so
long been kept sacred to the secret uses of the Puritan,
when it was found that the flames were subdued,
and that the present danger was averted.
The light glared powerfully through several openings
in the shingles, no less than through the windows;
and every eye was enabled to scan the contents
of an apartment which all had longed, though
none had ever before presumed, to enter.

“The Captain looketh well to the body,” whispered
Reuben Ring to one of his comrades, as he
wiped the effects of the toil from a sun-burnt brow.
“Thou seest, Hiram, that there is good store of
cheer.”

“The buttery is not better stored!” returned the
other, with the shrewdness and ready observation
of a border-man. “It is known that he never toucheth
that which the cow yields, except as it comes
from the creature, and here we find of the best
that the Madam's dairy can yield!”

“Surely yon buff jerkin is like to those worn by

-- 219 --

[figure description] Page 219.[end figure description]

the idle cavaliers at home! I think it be long since
the Captain hath ridden forth in such a guise.”

“That may be matter of ancient usage, for thou
seest he hath relics of the fashion of the English
troopers in this bit of steel; it is like, he holdeth
deep exercise over the vanities of his youth, while
recalling the times in which they were worn.”

This conjecture appeared to satisfy the other,
though it is probable that a sight of a fresh store
of bodily aliment, which was soon after exposed in
order to gain access to the roof, might have led to
some further inferences, had more time been given
to conjectures. But at this moment a new wail proceeded
from the maidens who plied the buckets
beneath.

“To the loops! to the loops, or we are lost!” was
a summons that admitted of no delay. Led by the
stranger, the young men rushed below, where, in
truth, they found a serious demand on all their
activity and courage.

The Indians were wanting in none of the sagacity
which so remarkably distinguishes the warfare
of this cunning race. The time spent by the family,
in arresting the flames, had not been thrown away
by the assailants. Profiting by the attention of those
within, to efforts that were literally of the last importance,
they had found means to convey burning
brands to the door of the block, against which they
had piled a mass of blazing combustibles, that
threatened shortly to open the way into the basement
of the citadel itself. In order to mask this
design, and to protect their approaches, the savages
had succeeded in dragging bundles of straw and
other similar materials to the foot of the work, to
which the fire soon communicated, and which consequently
served both to increase the actual danger
of the building and to distract the attention of those
by whom it was defended. Although the water that

-- 220 --

[figure description] Page 220.[end figure description]

fell from the roof served to retard the progress of
these flames, it contributed to produce the effect of
all others that was most desired by the savages.
The dense volumes of smoke that arose from the
half-smothered fire, first apprised the females of
the new danger which assailed them. When Content
and the stranger reached the principal floor
of their citadel, it required some little time, and no
small degree of coolness, to comprehend the situation
in which they were now placed. The vapor
that rolled upward from the wet straw and hay
had already penetrated into the apartment, and it
was with no slight difficulty that they who occupied
it were enabled to distinguish objects, or even
to breathe.

“Here is matter to exercise our utmost fortitude,”
said the stranger to his constant companion. “We
must look to this new device, or we come to the fate
of death by fire. Summon the stoutest-hearted of
thy youths, and I will lead them to a sortie, ere the
evil get past a remedy.”

“That were certain victory to the heathen. Thou
hearest, by their yells, that 'tis no small band of
scouters who beleaguer us; a tribe hath sent forth
its chosen warriors to do their wickedness. Better
is it that we bestir ourselves to drive them from our
door, and to prevent the further annoyance of this
cloud, since, to issue from the block, at this moment,
would be to offer our heads to the tomahawk; and
to ask mercy is as vain as to hope to move the rock
with tears.”

“And in what manner may we do this needful
service?”

“Our muskets will still command the entrance,
by means of these downward loops, and water may
be yet applied through the same openings. Thought
hath been had of this danger, in the disposition of
the place.”

-- 221 --

[figure description] Page 221.[end figure description]

“Then, of Heaven's mercy! delay not the effort.”

The necessary measures were taken, instantly.
Eben Dudley applied the muzzle of his piece to a
loop, and discharged it downward, in the direction
of the endangered door. But aim was impossible in
the obscurity, and his want of success was proclaimed
by a taunting shout of triumph. Then followed
a flood of water, which however was scarcely of
more service, since the savages had foreseen its use,
and had made a provision against its effects by placing
boards, and such vessels as they found scattered
among the buildings, above the fire, in a manner to
prevent most of the fluid from reaching its aim.

“Come hither with thy musket, Reuben Ring,”
said Content, hurriedly; “the wind stirreth the
smoke, here; the savages still heap fuel against the
wall.”

The borderer complied. There were in fact moments
when dark human forms were to be seen
gliding in silence around the building, though the
density of the vapor rendered the forms indistinct
and their movements doubtful. With a cool and
practised eye, the youth sought a victim; but as he
discharged his musket, an object glanced near his
own visage, as though the bullet had recoiled on him
who had given it a very different mission. Stepping
backward a little hurriedly, he saw the stranger
pointing through the smoke at an arrow which still
quivered in the floor above them.

“We cannot long abide these assaults,” the soldier
muttered; “something must be speedily devised, or
we fall.”

His words ceased, for a yell that appeared to lift
the floor on which he stood, announced the destruction
of the door and the presence of the savages in
the basement of the tower. Both parties appeared
momentarily confounded at this unexpected success;
for while the one stood mute with astonishment and

-- 222 --

[figure description] Page 222.[end figure description]

dread, the other did little more than triumph. But
this inaction soon ended. The conflict was resumed,
though the efforts of the assailants began to assume
the confidence of victory, while, on the part of the
besieged, they partook fearfully of the aspect of
despair.

A few muskets were discharged, both from below
and above, at the intermediate floor, but the thickness
of the planks prevented the bullets from doing
injury. Then commenced a struggle in which the
respective qualities of the combatants were exhibited
in a singularly characteristic manner. While
the Indians improved their advantages beneath, with
all the arts known to savage warfare, the young
men resisted with that wonderful aptitude of expedient,
and readiness of execution, which distinguish
the American borderer.

The first attempt of the assailants was to burn
the floor of the lower apartment. In order to effect
this, they threw vast piles of straw into the basement.
But ere the brand was applied, water had
reduced the inflammable material to a black and
murky pile. Still the smoke had nearly effected a
conquest which the fire itself had failed to achieve.
So suffocating indeed were the clouds of vapor which
ascended through the crevices, that the females
were compelled to seek a refuge in the attic. Here
the openings in the roof, and a swift current of air,
relieved them, in some degree, from its annoyance.

When it was found that the command of the well
afforded the besieged the means of protecting the
wood-work of the interior, an effort was made to cut
off the communication with the water, by forcing a
passage into the circular stone shaft, through which
it was drawn into the room above. This attempt
was defeated by the readiness of the youths, who
soon cut holes in the floor, whence they sent down
certain death on all beneath. Perhaps no part of

-- 223 --

[figure description] Page 223.[end figure description]

the assault was more obstinate than that which accompanied
this effort; nor did either assailants or
assailed, at any time during its continuance, suffer
greater personal injury. After a long and fierce
struggle, the resistance was effectual, and the savages
had recourse to new schemes in order to effect
their ruthless object.

During the first moments of their entrance, and
with a view to reap the fruits of the victory when
the garrison should be mroe effectually subdued,
most of the furniture of the dwelling had been scattered
by the conquerors on the side of the hill.
Among other articles, some six or seven beds had
been dragged from the dormitories. These were
now brought into play, as powerful instruments in
the assault. They were cast, one by one, on the
still burning though smothered flames, in the basement
of the block, whence they sent up a cloud of
their intolerable effluvia. At this trying moment,
the appalling cry was heard in the block, that the
well had failed! The buckets ascended as empty
as they went down, and they were thrown aside as
no longer useful. The savages seemed to comprehend
their advantage, for they profited by the confusion
that succeeded among the assailed, to feed
the slumbering fires. The flames kindled fiercely,
and in less than a minute they became too violent
to be subdued. They were soon seen playing on
the planks of the floor above. The subtle element
flashed from point to point, and it was not long ere
it was stealing up the outer side of the heated block
itself.

The savages now knew that conquest was sure.
Yells and whoopings proclaimed the fierce delight
with which they witnessed the certainty of their
victory. Still there was something portentous in
the death-like silence with which the victims within
the block awaited their fate. The whole exterior

-- 224 --

[figure description] Page 224.[end figure description]

of the building was already wrapped in flames, and
yet no show of further resistance, no petition for
mercy, issued from its bosom. The unnatural and
frightful stillness, that reigned within, was gradually
communicated to those without. The cries and
shouts of triumph ceased, and the crackling of
the flames, or the falling of timber in the adjoining
buildings, alone disturbed the awful calm. At length
a solitary voice was heard in the block. Its tones
were deep, solemn, and imploring. The fierce beings
who surrounded the glowing pile bent forward
to listen, for their quick faculties caught the first
sounds that were audible. It was Mark Heathcote
pouring out his spirit in prayer. The petition was
fervent, but steady, and though uttered in words
that were unintelligible to those without, they knew
enough of the practices of the Colonists, to be
aware that it was the chief of the Pale-faces holding
communion with his God. Partly in awe, and
partly in doubt of what might be the consequences
of so mysterious an asking, the dark crowd withdrew
to a little distance, and silently watched the
progress of the destruction. They had heard strange
sayings of the power of the Deity of their invaders,
and as their victims appeared suddenly to cease
using any of the known means of safety, they appeared
to expect, perhaps they did expect, some
unequivocal manifestation of the power of the
Great Spirit of the stranger.

Still no sign of pity, no relenting from the ruthless
barbarity of their warfare, escaped any of the
assailants. If they thought at all of the temporal
fate of those who might still exist within the fiery
pile, it was only to indulge in some passing regret,
that the obstinacy of the defence had deprived them
of the glory of bearing the usual bloody tokens of
victory, in triumph to their villages. But even
these peculiar and deeply-rooted feelings were

-- 225 --

[figure description] Page 225.[end figure description]

forgotten, as the progress of the flames placed the
hope of its indulgence beyond all possibility.

The roof of the block rekindled, and, by the light
that shone through the loops, it was but too evident
the interior was in a blaze. Once or twice, smothered
sounds came out of the place, as if suppressed
shrieks were escaping the females; but they ceased
so suddenly as to leave doubts among the auditors,
whether it were more than the deception of their
own excited fancies. The savages had witnessed
many a similar scene of human suffering, but never
one before in which death was met by so unmoved
a clamness. The serenity that reigned in the blazing
block communicated to them a feeling of awe;
and when the pile came a tumbling and blackened
mass of ruins to the earth, they avoided the place,
like men that dreaded the vengeance of a Deity
who knew how to infuse so deep a sentiment of resignation
in the breasts of his worshippers.

Though the yells of victory were again heard in
the valley that night, and though the sun had arisen
before the conquerors deserted the hill, but few of
the band found resolution to approach the smouldering
pile, where they had witnessed so impressive
an exhibition of Christian fortitude. The few that
did draw near, stood around the spot rather in the
reverence with which an Indian visits the graves
of the just, than in the fierce rejoicings with which
he is known to glut his revenge over a fallen enemy.

-- 226 --

CHAPTER XVI.

[figure description] Page 226.[end figure description]



“What are these,
So withered, and so wild in their attire;
That look not like the inhabitants of earth,
And yet are on't?”
Macbeth.

That sternness of the season, which has already
been mentioned in these pages, is never of long
continuance in the month of April. A change in
the wind had been noted by the hunters, even before
they retired from their range among the hills;
and though too seriously occupied to pay close attention
to the progress of the thaw, more than one
of the young men had found occasion to remark,
that the final breaking up of the winter had arrived.
Long ere the scene of the preceding chapter reached
its height, the southern winds had mingled with
the heat of the conflagration. Warm airs, that had
been following the course of the Gulf Stream, were
driven to the land, and, sweeping over the narrow
island that at this point forms the advanced work
of the continent, but a few short hours had passed
before they destroyed every chilling remnant of the
dominion of winter. Warm, bland, and rushing in
torrents, the subtle currents penetrated the forests,
melted the snows from the fields, and as all alike
felt the genial influence, it appeared to bestow a
renovated existence on man and beast. With morning,
therefore, a landscape very different from that
last placed before the mind of the reader, presented
itself in the valley of the Wish-Ton-Wish.

The winter had entirely disappeared, and as the
buds had begun to swell under the occasional warmth

-- 227 --

[figure description] Page 227.[end figure description]

of the spring, one ignorant of the past would not
have supposed that the advance of the season had
been subject to so stern an interruption. But the
principal and most melancholy change was in the
more artificial parts of the view. Instead of those
simple and happy habitations which had crowned
the little eminence, there remained only a mass of
blackened and charred ruins. A few abused and
half-destroyed articles of household furniture lay
scattered on the sides of the hill, and, here and
there, a dozen palisadoes, favored by some accidental
cause, had partially escaped the flames.
Eight or ten massive and dreary-looking stacks of
chimneys rose out of the smoking piles. In the centre
of the desolation was the stone basement of the
block-house, on which still stood a few gloomy masses
of the timber, resembling coal. The naked and unsupported
shaft of the well reared its circular pillar
from the centre, looking like a dark monument
of the past. The wide ruin of the out-buildings
blackened one side of the clearing, and, in different
places, the fences, like radii diverging from the common
centre of destruction, had led off the flames
into the fields. A few domestic animals ruminated in
the back-ground, and even the feathered inhabitants
of the barns still kept aloof, as if warned by
their instinct that danger lurked around the site of
their ancient abodes. In all other respects, the view
was calm, and lovely as ever. The sun shone from
a sky in which no cloud was visible. The blandness
of the winds, and the brightness of the heavens,
lent an air of animation to even the leafless forest;
and the white vapor, that continued to rise from the
smouldering piles, floated high over the hills, as the
peaceful smoke of the cottage curled above its roof.

The ruthless band which had occasioned this sudden
change was already far on the way to its villages,
or, haply, it sought some other scene of blood.

-- 228 --

[figure description] Page 228.[end figure description]

A skilful eye might have traced the route these
fierce creatures of the woods had taken, by fences
hurled from their places, or by the carcass of some
animal that had fallen, in the wantonness of victory,
beneath a parting blow. Of all these wild beings,
one only remained; and he appeared to linger at
the spot in the indulgence of feelings that were foreign
to those passions that had so recently stirred
the bosoms of his comrades.

It was with a slow, noiseless step that the solitary
loiterer moved about the scene of destruction. He
was first seen treading, with a thoughtful air, among
the ruins of the buildings that had formed the quadrangle,
and then, seemingly led by an interest in the
fate of those who had so miserably perished, he
drew nearer to the pile in its centre. The nicest
and most attentive ear could not have detected the
fall of his foot, as the Indian placed it within the
gloomy circle of the ruined wall; nor is the breathing
of the infant less audible, than the manner in
which he drew breath, while standing in a place so
lately consecrated by the agony and martyrdom of
a Christian family. It was the boy called Miantonimoh,
seeking some melancholy memorial of those
with whom he had so long dwelt in amity, if not in
confidence.

One skilled in the history of savage passions might
have found a clue to the workings of the mind of
the youth, in the play of his speaking features. As
his dark glittering eye rolled over the smouldering
fragments, it seemed to search keenly for some vestige
of the human form. The element however had
done its work too greedily, to have left many visible
memorials of its fury. An object resembling that
he sought, however, caught his glance, and stepping
lightly to the spot where it lay, he raised the bone
of a powerful arm from the brands. The flashing
of his eye, as it lighted on this sad object, was wild

-- 229 --

[figure description] Page 229.[end figure description]

and exulting, like that of the savage when he first
feels the fierce joy of glutted vengeance; but gentler
recollections came with the gaze, and kinder feelings
evidently usurped the place of the hatred he
had been taught to bear a race, who were so fast
sweeping his people from the earth. The relic fell
from his hand, and had Ruth been there to witness
the melancholy and relenting shade that clouded his
swarthy features, she might have found pleasure in
the certainty that all her kindness had not been
wasted.

Regret soon gave place to awe. To the imagination
of the Indian, it seemed as if a still voice, like
that which is believed to issue from the grave, was
heard in the place. Bending his body forward, he
listened with the intensity and acuteness of a savage.
He thought the smothered tones of Mark
Heathcote were again audible, holding communion
with his God. The chisel of the Grecian would have
loved to delineate the attitudes and movements of
the wondering boy, as he slowly and reverently
withdrew from the spot. His look was riveted on
the vacancy where the upper apartments of the
block had stood, and where he had last seen the
family, calling, in their extremity, on their Deity
for aid. Imagination still painted the victims, in
their burning pile. For a minute longer, during
which brief space the young Indian probably expected
to see some vision of the Pale-faces, did he
linger near; and then, with a musing air and softened
mind, he trod lightly along the path which led
on the trail of his people. When his active form
reached the boundary of the forest, he again paused,
and taking a final gaze at the place where fortune
had made him a witness to so much domestic peace
and of so much sudden misery, his form was quickly
swallowed in the gloom of his native woods.

-- 230 --

[figure description] Page 230.[end figure description]

The work of the savages now seemed complete.
An effectual check appeared to be placed to the
further progress of civilization in the ill-fated valley
of the Wish-Ton-wish. Had nature been left to its
own work, a few years would have covered the
deserted clearing with its ancient vegetation; and
half a century would have again buried the whole
of its quiet glades, in the shadows of the forest.
But it was otherwise decreed.

The sun had reached the meridian, and the hostile
band had been gone some hours, before aught occurred
likely to affect this seeming decision of Providence.
To one acquainted with the recent horrors,
the breathing of the airs over the ruins might have
passed for the whisperings of departed spirits. In
short, it appeared as if the silence of the wilderness
had once more resumed its reign, when it was suddenly
though slightly interrupted. A movement was
made within the ruins of the block. It sounded as
if billets of wood were gradually and cautiously
displaced, and then a human head was reared slowly,
and with marked suspicion, above the shaft of
the well. The wild and unearthly air of this seeming
spectre, was in keeping with the rest of the scene.
A face begrimed with smoke and stained with blood,
a head bound in some fragment of a soiled dress,
and eyes that were glaring in a species of dull
horror, were objects in unison with all the other
frightful accessories of the place.

“What seest thou?” demanded a deep voice from
within the walls of the shaft. “Shall we again
come to our weapons, or have the agents of Moloch
departed? Speak, entranced youth! what dost behold?”

“A sight to make a wolf weep!” returned Eben
Dudley, raising his large frame so as to stand erect
on the shaft, where he commanded a bird's-eye view
of most of the desolation of the valley. “Evil though

-- 231 --

[figure description] Page 231.[end figure description]

it be, we may not say that forewarning signs have
been withheld. But what is the cunningest man,
when mortal wisdom is weighed in the scale against
the craft of devils? Come forth! Belial hath done
his worst, and we have a breathing-time.”

The sounds, which issued still deeper from the
well, denoted the satisfaction with which this intelligence
was received, no less than the alacrity
with which the summons of the borderer was obeyed.
Sundry blocks of wood and short pieces of plank
were first passed, with care, up to the hands of
Dudley, who cast them, like useless lumber, among
the other ruins of the building. He then descended
from his perch, and made room for others to follow.

The stranger next arose. After him came Content,
the Puritan, Reuben Ring, and, in short, all the
youths, with the exception of those who had unhappily
fallen in the contest. After these had
mounted, and each in turn had leaped to the ground,
a very brief preparation served for the liberation
of the more feeble of body. The readiness of border
skill soon sufficed to arrange the necessary means.
By the aid of chains and buckets, Ruth and the little
Martha, Faith and all of the handmaidens, without
even one exception, were successively drawn from
the bowels of the earth, and restored to the light
of day. It is scarcely necessary to say to those
whom experience has best fitted to judge of such an
achievement, that no great time or labor was necessary
for its accomplishment.

It is not our intention to harass the feelings of
the reader, further than is required by a simple
narrative of the incidents of the legend. We shall
therefore say nothing of the bodily pain, or of the
mental alarm, by which this ingenious retreat from
the flames and the tomahawk had been effected.
The suffering was chiefly confined to apprehension;
for as the descent was easy, so had the readiness

-- 232 --

[figure description] Page 232.[end figure description]

and ingenuity of the young men found means, by
the aid of articles of furniture first cast into the
shaft, and by well-secured fragments of the floors
properly placed across, both to render the situation
of the females and children less painful than might
at first be supposed, and effectually to protect them
from the tumbling block. But little of the latter,
however, was likely to affect their safety, as the
form of the building was, in itself, a sufficient security
against the fall of its heavier parts.

The meeting of the family, amid the desolation
of the valley, though relieved by the consciousness
of having escaped a more shocking fate, may easily
be imagined. The first act was to render brief but
solemn thanks for their deliverance, and then, with
the promptitude of people trained in hardship, their
attention was given to those measures which prudence
told them were yet necessary.

A few of the more active and experienced of the
youths were dispatched, in order to ascertain the
direction taken by the Indians, and to gain what
intelligence they might concerning their future
movements. The maidens hastened to collect the
kine, while others searched, with heavy hearts,
among the ruins, in quest of such articles of food
and comfort as could be found, in order to administer
to the first wants of nature.

Two hours had effected most of that which could
immediately be done, in these several pursuits. The
young men returned with the assurance that the
trails announced the certain and final retreat of
the savages. The cows had yielded their tribute,
and such provision had been made against hunger
as circumstances would allow. The arms had been
examined, and put, as far as the injuries they had
received would admit, in readiness for instant service.
A few hasty preparations had been made, in order
to protect the females against the cool airs of the

-- 233 --

[figure description] Page 233.[end figure description]

coming night; and, in short, all was done that the
intelligence of a border-man could suggest, or his
exceeding readiness in expedients could in so brief
a space supply.

The sun began to fall towards the tops of the
beeches that crowned the western outline of the
view, before all these necessary arrangements were
ended. It was not till then, however, that Reuben
Ring, accompanied by another youth of equal activity
and courage, appeared before the Puritan,
equipped, as well as men in their situation might
be, for a journey through the forest.

“Go,” said the old religionist, when the youths
presented themselves before him; “Go; carry forth
the tidings of this visitation, that men come to our
succor. I ask not vengeance on the deluded and
heathenish imitators of the worshippers of Moloch.
They have ignorantly done this evil. Let no man
arm in behalf of the wrongs of one sinful and erring.
Rather let them look into the secret abominations
of their own hearts, in order that they crush the
living worm, which, by gnawing on the seeds of a
healthful hope, may yet destroy the fruits of the
promise in their own souls. I would that there be
profit in this example of divine displeasure. Go;
make the circuit of the settlements for some fifty
miles, and bid such of the neighbors as may be
spared, come to our aid. They shall be welcome;
and may it be long ere any of them send invitation
to me or mine, to enter their clearings on the like
melancholy duty. Depart, and bear in mind, that
you are messengers of peace; that your errand
toucheth not the feelings of vengeance, but that it
is succor, in all fitting reason, and no arming of the
hand to chase the savage to his retreats, that I ask
of the brethren.”

With this final admonition, the young men took
their leaves. Still it was evident, by their frowning

-- 234 --

[figure description] Page 234.[end figure description]

brows and compressed lips, that some part of its
forgiving principle might be forgotten, should chance,
in their journey, bring them on the trail of any
wandering inhabitant of the forest. In a few minutes,
they were seen passing, with swift steps, from
the fields into the depths of the forest, along that
path which led to the towns that lay lower on the
Connecticut.

Another task still remained to be performed. In
making the temporary arrangements for the shelter
of the family, attention had been first paid to the
block-house. The walls of the basement of this
building were still standing, and it was found easy,
by means of half-burnt timbers, with an occasional
board that had escaped the conflagration, to cover
it, in a manner that offered a temporary protection
against the weather. This simple and hasty construction,
with an extremely inartificial office erected
around the stack of a chimney, embraced nearly
all that could be done, until time and assistance
should enable them to commence other dwellings.
In clearing the ruins of the little tower of its rubbish,
the remains of those who had perished in the
fray were piously collected. The body of the youth
who had died in the earlier hours of the attack,
was found, but half-consumed, in the court, and
the bones of two more, who fell within the block,
were collected from among the ruins. It had now
become a melancholy duty to consign them all to
the earth, with decent solemnity.

The time selected for this sad office was just as
the western horizon began to glow with that which
one of our own poets has so beautifully termed,
“the pomp that brings and shuts the day.” The sun
was in the tree-tops, and a softer or sweeter light
could not have been chosen for such a ceremony.
Most of the fields still lay in the soft brightness of
the hour, though the forest was rapidly getting the

-- 235 --

[figure description] Page 235.[end figure description]

more obscure look of night. A broad and gloomy
margin was spreading from the boundary of the
woods, and, here and there, a solitary tree cast its
shadow on the meadows without its limits, throwing
a dark ragged line, in bold relief, on the glow
of the sun's rays. One, it was the dusky image of a
high and waving pine, that reared its dark green
pyramid of never-fading foliage nearly a hundred
feet above the humbler growth of beeches, cast its
shade to the side of the eminence of the block.
Here the pointed extremity of the shadow was seen,
stealing slowly towards the open grave,—an emblem
of that oblivion in which its humble tenants
were so shortly to be wrapped.

At this spot, Mark Heathcote and his remaining
companions had assembled. An oaken chair, saved
from the flames, was the seat of the father; and
two parallel benches, formed of planks placed on
stones, held the other members of the family. The
grave lay between. The patriarch had taken his
station at one of its ends; while the stranger, so
often named in these pages, stood with folded arms
and a thoughtful brow at the other. The bridle of
a horse, caparisoned in that imperfect manner which
the straitened means of the borderers now rendered
necessary, was hanging from one of the half-burnt
palisadoes, in the back-ground.

“A just, but a merciful hand hath been laid heavily
on my household;” commenced the old Puritan,
with the calmness of one who had long been accustomed
to chasten his regrets by humility. “He
that hath given freely, hath taken away; and one,
that hath long smiled upon my weakness, hath now
veiled his face in anger. I have known him in his
power to bless; it was meet that I should see him
in his displeasure. A heart that was waxing confident
would have hardened in its pride. At that
which hath befallen, let no man murmur. Let none

-- 236 --

[figure description] Page 236.[end figure description]

imitate the speech of her who spoke foolishly: `What!
shall we receive good at the hand of God, and shall
we not receive evil?' I would that the feeble-minded
of the world, they that jeopard the soul on vanities,
they that look with scorn on the neediness of
the flesh, might behold the riches of one stedfast.
I would that they might know the consolation of
the righteous! Let the voice of thanksgiving be
heard in the wilderness. Open thy mouths in praise,
that the gratitude of a penitent be not hid!”

As the deep tones of the speaker ceased, his stern
eye fell upon the features of the nearest youth,
and it seemed to demand an audible response to his
own lofty expression of resignation. But the sacrifice
exceeded the power of the individual to
whom had been made this silent, but intelligible,
appeal. After regarding the relics that lay at his
feet, casting a wandering glance at the desolation
which had swept over a place his own hand had
helped to decorate, and receiving a renewed consciousness
of his own bodily suffering in the shooting
pain of his wounds, the young borderer averted his
look, and seemed to recoil from so officious a display
of submission. Observing his inability to reply,
Mark continued.—

“Hath no one a voice to praise the Lord? The
bands of the heathen have fallen upon my herds;
the brand hath been kindled within my dwellings;
my people have died by the violence of the unenlightened,
and none are here to say that the Lord
is just! I would that the shouts of thanksgiving
should arise in my fields! I would that the song of
praise should grow louder than the whoop of the
savage, and that all the land might speak joyfulness!”

A long, deep, and expecting pause succeeded.
Then Content rejoined, in his quiet tones, speaking

-- 237 --

[figure description] Page 237.[end figure description]

firmly, but with the modest utterance he rarely
failed to use—

“The hand that hath held the balance is just,”
he said, “and we have been found wanting. He
that made the wilderness blossom hath caused the
ignorant and the barbarous to be the instruments of
his will. He hath arrested the season of our prosperity,
that we may know he is the Lord. He hath
spoken in the whirlwind, but his mercy granteth
that our ears shall know his voice.”

As his son ceased, a gleam of satisfaction shot
across the countenance of the Puritan. His eye
next turned inquiringly towards Ruth, who sate
among her maidens the image of womanly sorrow.
Common interest seemed to still the breathing of
the little assembly, and sympathy was quite as active
as curiosity, when each one present suffered a glance
to steal towards her benignant but pallid face. The
eye of the mother was gazing earnestly, but without
a tear, on the melancholy spectacle before her.
It unconsciously sought, among the dried and shrivelled
remnants of mortality that lay at her feet,
some relic of the cherub she had lost. A shudder
and struggle followed, after which her gentle voice
breathed so low that those nearest her person could
scarce distinguish the words—

“The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away;
blessed be his holy name!”

“Now know I that he who hath smote me is merciful,
for he chasteneth them he loveth,” said Mark
Heathcote, rising with dignity to address his household.
“Our life is a life of pride. The young are
wont to wax insolent, while he of many years saith
to his own heart, `it is good to be here.' There is a
fearful mystery in one who sitteth on high. The
heavens are his throne, and he hath created the
earth for his footstool. Let not the vanity of the
weak of mind presume to understand it, for `who

-- 238 --

[figure description] Page 238.[end figure description]

that hath the breath of life, lived before the hills?'
The bonds of the evil one, of Satan, and of the sons
of Belial, have been loosened, that the faith of the
elect may be purified, that the names of those written,
since the foundations of the earth were laid,
may be read in letters of pure gold. The time of
man is but a moment in the reckoning of him whose
life is eternity; earth the habitation of a season!
The bones of the bold, of the youthful, and of the
strong of yesterday, lie at our feet. None know
what an hour may bring forth. In a single night,
my children, hath this been done. They whose
voices were heard in my halls are now speechless,
and they who so lately rejoiced are sorrowing. Yet
hath this seeming evil been ordered that good may
come thereof. We are dwellers in a wild and distant
land,” he continued, insensibly permitting his
thoughts to incline towards the more mournful
details of their affliction; “our earthly home is afar
off. Hither have we been led by the flaming pillar
of truth, and yet the malice of the persecuters hath
not forgotten to follow. One houseless, and sought
like the hunted deer, is again driven to flee. We
have the canopy of the stars for a roof; none may
tarry longer to worship, secretly, within our walls.
But the path of the faithful, though full of thorns,
leadeth to quiet, and the final rest of the just man
can never know alarm. He that hath borne hunger,
and thirst, and the pains of the flesh, for the sake
of truth, knoweth how to be satisfied; nor will the
hours of bodily suffering be accounted weary to him
whose goal is the peace of the righteous.” The
strong lineaments of the stranger grew even more
than usually austere, and as the Puritan continued,
the hand which rested on the handle of a pistol
grasped the weapon, until the fingers seemed imbedded
in the wood. He bowed, however, as if to acknowledge
the personal allusion, and remained silent.

-- 239 --

[figure description] Page 239.[end figure description]

“If any mourn the early death of those who have
rendered up their being, struggling, as it may be
permitted, in behalf of life and dwelling,” continued
Mark Heathcote, regarding a female near him, “let
her remember, that from the beginning of the world
were his days numbered, and that not a sparrow
falleth without answering the ends of wisdom.
Rather let the fulfilment of things remind us of the
vanity of life, that we may learn how easy it is to
become immortal. If the youth hath been cut down,
seemingly like unripened grass, he hath fallen by
the sickle of one who knoweth best when to begin
the in-gathering of the harvest to his eternal garners.
Though a spirit bound unto his, as one feeble is
wont to lean on the strength of man and mourn
over his fall, let her sorrow be mingled with rejoicing.”
A convulsive sob broke out of the bosom of
the handmaiden who was known to have been affianced
to one of the dead, and for a moment the
address of Mark was interrupted. But when silence
again ensued, he continued, the subject leading him,
by a transition that was natural, to allude to his own
sorrows. “Death hath been no stranger in my habitation,”
he said. “His shaft fell heaviest, when it struck
her, who, like those that have here fallen, was in the
pride of her youth, and when her soul was glad with
the first joy of the birth of a man-child! Thou who
sittest on high!” he added, turning a glazed and tearless
eye to heaven; “thou knowest how heavy was that
blow, and thou hast written down the strivings of an
oppressed soul. The burthen was not found too heavy
for endurance. The sacrifice hath not sufficed; the
world was again getting uppermost in my heart.
Thou didst bestow an image of that innocence and
loveliness that dwelleth in the skies, and this hast
thou taken away, that we might know thy power.
To this judgment we bow. If thou hast called our
child to the mansions of bliss, she is wholly thine,

-- 240 --

[figure description] Page 240.[end figure description]

and we presume not to complain; but if thou hast
still left her to wander further in the pilgrimage of
life, we confide in thy goodness. She is of a long-suffering
race, and thou wilt not desert her to the
blindness of the heathen. She is thine, she is wholly
thine, King of Heaven! and yet hast thou permitted
our hearts to yearn towards her, with the fondness
of earthly love. We await some further manifestation
of thy will, that we may know whether
the fountains of our affection shall be dried in the
certainty of her blessedness—” (scalding tears were
rolling down the cheeks of the pallid and immovable
mother) “or whether hope, nay, whether duty to
thee calleth for the interference of those bound to
her in the tenderness of the flesh. When the blow
was heaviest on the bruised spirit of a lone and solitary
wanderer, in a strange and savage land, he
held not back the offspring it was thy will to grant
him in the place of her called to thyself; and now
that the child hath become a man, he too layeth,
like Abraham of old, the infant of his love, a willing
offering at thy feet. Do with it as to thy never-failing
wisdom seemeth best.”—The words were interrupted
by a heavy groan, that burst from the chest of
Content. A deep silence ensued, but when the assembly
ventured to throw looks of sympathy and
awe at the bereaved father, they saw that he had
arisen and stood gazing steadily at the speaker, as if
he wondered, equally with the others, whence such
a sound of suffering could have come. The Puritan
renewed the subject, but his voice faltered, and for
an instant, as he proceeded, his hearers were oppressed
with the spectacle of an aged and dignified
man shaken with grief. Conscious of his weakness,
the old man ceased speaking in exhortation, and
addressed himself to prayer. While thus engaged,
his tones again became clear, firm and distinct, and

-- 241 --

[figure description] Page 241.[end figure description]

the petition was ended in the midst of a deep and
holy calm.

With the performance of this preliminary office,
the simple ceremony was brought to its close. The
remains were lowered, in solemn silence, into the
grave, and the earth was soon replaced by the young
men. Mark Heathcote then invoked aloud the blessing
of God on his household, and bowing in person,
as he had before done in spirit, to the will of Heaven,
he motioned to the family to withdraw.

The interview that succeeded was over the resting-place
of the dead. The hand of the stranger
was firmly clenched in that of the Puritan, and the
stern self-command of both appeared to give way,
before the regrets of a friendship that had endured
through so many trying scenes.

“Thou knowest that I may not tarry,” said the
former, as if he replied to some expressed wish of
his companion. “They would make me a sacrifice
to the Moloch of their vanities; and yet would I
fain abide, until the weight of this heavy blow may
be forgotten. I found thee in peace, and I quit thee
in the depths of suffering!”

“Thou distrustest me, or thou dost injustice to
thine own belief,” interrupted the Puritan, with a
smile, that shone on his haggard and austere visage,
as the rays of the setting sun light a wintry cloud.
“Seemed I happier when this hand placed that of
a loved bride into mine own, than thou now seest
me in this wilderness, houseless, stripped of my
wealth, and, God forgive the ingratitude! but I had
almost said, childless? No, indeed, thou mayest not
tarry, for the blood-hounds of tyranny will be on
their scent; here is shelter no longer.”

The eyes of both turned, by a common and melancholy
feeling, towards the ruin of the block. The
stranger then pressed the hand of his friend in both
his own, and said in a struggling voice—

-- 242 --

[figure description] Page 242.[end figure description]

“Mark Heathcote, adieu! he that had a roof for
the persecuted wanderer shall not long be houseless;
neither shall the resigned for ever know sorrow.”

His words sounded in the ears of his companion
like the revelation of a prophecy. They again
pressed their hands together, and, regarding each
other with looks in which kindness could not be altogether
smothered by the repulsive character of an
acquired air, they parted. The Puritan slowly took
his way to the dreary shelter which covered his family;
while the stranger was shortly after seen urging
the beast he had mounted, across the pastures of the
valley, towards one of the most retired paths of the
wilderness.

CHAPTER XVII.

“Together towards the village then we walked,
And of old friends and places much we talked:
And who had died, who left them, would he tell;
And who still in their father's mansion dwell.”
Dana.

We leave the imagination of the reader to supply
an interval of several years. Before the thread
of the narrative shall be resumed, it will be necessary
to take another hasty view of the condition of
the country in which the scene of our legend had
place.

The exertions of the provincials were no longer
limited to the first efforts of a colonial existence.
The establishments of New-England had passed the
ordeal of experiment, and were become permanent.
Massachusetts was already populous; and

-- 243 --

[figure description] Page 243.[end figure description]

Connecticut, the colony with which we have more immediate
connexion, was sufficiently peopled to manifest
a portion of that enterprise which has since made
her active little community so remarkable. The
effects of these increased exertions were becoming
extensively visible; and we shall endeavor to set one
of these changes, as distinctly as our feeble powers
will allow, before the eyes of those who read these
pages.

When compared with the progress of society in
the other hemisphere, the condition of what is called,
in America, a new settlement, becomes anomalous.
There, the arts of life have been the fruits
of an intelligence that has progressively accumulated
with the advancement of civilization; while
here, improvement is, in a great degree, the consequence
of experience elsewhere acquired. Necessity,
prompted by an understanding of its wants,
incited by a commendable spirit of emulation, and
encouraged by liberty, early gave birth to those
improvements which have converted a wilderness
into the abodes of abundance and security, with a
rapidity that wears the appearance of magic. Industry
has wrought with the confidence of knowledge,
and the result has been peculiar.

It is scarcely necessary to say that, in a country
where the laws favor all commendable enterprise,
where unnecessary artificial restrictions are unknown,
and where the hand of man has not yet
exhausted its efforts, the adventurer is allowed the
greatest freedom of choice, in selecting the field of
his enterprise. The agriculturist passes the heath
and the barren, to seat himself on the river-bottom;
the trader looks for the site of demand and supply,
and the artisan quits his native village to seek employment
in situations where labor will meet its
fullest reward. It is a consequence of this extraordinary
freedom of election, that, while the great

-- 244 --

[figure description] Page 244.[end figure description]

picture of American society has been sketched with
so much boldness, a large portion of the filling-up
still remains to be done. The emigrant has consulted
his immediate interests; and, while no very extensive
and profitable territory, throughout the
whole of our immense possessions, has been wholly
neglected, neither has any particular district yet
attained the finish of improvement. The city is,
even now, seen in the wilderness, and the wilderness
often continues near the city, while the latter
is sending forth its swarms to distant scenes of industry.
After thirty years of fostering care on the
part of the government, the Capital, itself, presents
its disjointed and sickly villages, in the centre of
the deserted `old-fields' of Maryland, while numberless
youthful rivals are flourishing on the waters of
the West, in spots where the bear has ranged and
the wolf howled, long since the former has been
termed a city.

Thus it is that high civilization, a state of infant
existence, and positive barbarity, are often brought
so near each other, within the borders of this republic.
The traveller, who has passed the night
in an inn that would not disgrace the oldest country
in Europe, may be compelled to dine in the shantee[1]
of a hunter; the smooth and gravelled road sometimes
ends in an impassable swamp; the spires of
the town are often hid by the branches of a tangled
forest, and the canal leads to a seemingly barren
and unprofitable mountain. He that does not return
to see what another year may bring forth, commonly

-- 245 --

[figure description] Page 245.[end figure description]

bears away from these scenes, recollections that
conduce to error. To see America with the eyes of
truth, it is necessary to look often; and in order to
understand the actual condition of these states, it
should be remembered, that it is equally unjust to
believe that all the intermediate points partake of
the improvements of particular places, as to infer
the want of civilization at more remote establishments,
from a few unfavorable facts gleaned near
the centre. By an accidental concurrence of moral
and physical causes, much of that equality which
distinguishes the institutions of the country is extended
to the progress of society over its whole
surface.

Although the impetus of improvement was not
as great in the time of Mark Heathcote as in our
own days, the principle of its power was actively in
existence. Of this fact we shall furnish a sufficient
evidence, by pursuing our intention of describing
one of those changes to which allusion has already
been made.

The reader will remember that the age of which
we write had advanced into the last quarter of the
seventeenth century. The precise moment at which
the action of the tale must re-commence, was that
period of the day when the gray of twilight was
redeeming objects from the deep darkness with
which the night draws to its close. The month was
June, and the scene such as it may be necessary to
describe with some particularity.

Had there been light, and had one been favorably
placed to enjoy a bird's-eye view of the spot, he
would have seen a broad and undulating field of
leafy forest, in which the various deciduous trees
of New-England were relieved by the deeper verdure
of occasional masses of evergreens. In the
centre of this swelling and nearly interminable outline
of woods, was a valley that spread between

-- 246 --

[figure description] Page 246.[end figure description]

three low mountains. Over the bottom-land, for the
distance of several miles, all the signs of a settlement
in a state of rapid and prosperous improvement
were visible. The devious course of a deep
and swift brook, that in the other hemisphere would
have been termed a river, was to be traced through
the meadows by its borders of willow and sumach.
At a point near the centre of the valley, the waters
had been arrested by a small dam; and a mill, whose
wheel at that early hour was without motion, stood
on the artifical mound. Near it was the site of a
New-England hamlet.

The number of dwellings in the village might
have been forty. They were, as usual, constructed
of a firm frame-work, neatly covered with sidings
of boards. There was a surprising air of equality
in the general aspect of the houses; and, if there
were question of any country but our own, it might
be added there was an unusual appearance of comfort
and abundance in even the humblest of them
all. They were mostly of two low stories, the superior
overhanging the inferior, by a foot or two;
a mode of construction much in use in the earlier
days of the Eastern Colonies. As paint was but
little used at that time, none of the buildings exhibited
a color different from that the wood would
naturally assume, after the exposure of a few years
to the weather. Each had its single chimney in the
centre of the roof, and but two or three showed
more than a solitary window on each side of the
principal or outer door. In front of every dwelling
was a small neat court, in green sward, separated
from the public road by a light fence of deal. Double
rows of young and vigorous elms lined each side of
the wide street, while an enormous sycamore still
kept possession of the spot, in its centre, which it
had occupied when the white man entered the
forest. Beneath the shade of this tree the

-- 247 --

[figure description] Page 247.[end figure description]

inhabitants often collected, to gather tidings of each other's
welfare, or to listen to some matter of interest that
rumor had borne from the towns nearer the sea.
A narrow and little-used wheel-track ran, with a
graceful and sinuous route, through the centre of
the wide and grassy street. Reduced in appearance
to little more than a bridle-path, it was to be
traced, without the hamlet, between high fences
of wood, for a mile or two, to the points where it
entered the forest. Here and there, roses were
pressing through the openings of the fences before
the doors of the different habitations, and bushes
of fragrant lilacs stood in the angles of most of the
courts.

The dwellings were detached. Each occupied
its own insulated plot of ground, with a garden in
its rear. The out-buildings were thrown to that
distance which the cheapness of land, and security
from fire, rendered both easy and expedient.

The church stood in the centre of the highway,
and near one end of the hamlet. In the exterior
and ornaments of the important temple, the taste of
the times had been fastidiously consulted, its form
and simplicity furnishing no slight resemblance to
the self-denying doctrines and quaint humors of the
religionists who worshipped beneath its roof. The
building, like all the rest, was of wood, and externally
of two stories. It possessed a tower, without
a spire; the former alone serving to betray its
sacred character. In the construction of this edifice,
especial care had been taken to eschew all deviations
from direct lines and right angles. Those narrow-arched
passages for the admission of light, that
are elsewhere so common, were then thought, by
the stern moralists of New-England, to have some
mysterious connexion with her of the scarlet mantle.
The priest would as soon have thought of appearing
before his flock in the vanities of stole and

-- 248 --

[figure description] Page 248.[end figure description]

cassock, as the congregation of admitting the repudiated
ornaments into the outline of their severe
architecture. Had the Genii of the Lamp suddenly
exchanged the windows of the sacred edifice with
those of the inn that stood nearly opposite, the
closest critic of the settlement could never have
detected the liberty, since, in the form, dimensions,
and style of the two, there was no visible difference.

A little inclosure, at no great distance from the
church, and on one side of the street, had been set
apart for the final resting-place of those who had
finished their race on earth. It contained but a solitary
grave.

The inn was to be distinguished from the surrounding
buildings, by its superior size, an open
horse-shed, and a sort of protruding air, with which
it thrust itself on the line of the street, as if to invite
the traveller to enter. A sign swung on a gallows-looking
post, that, in consequence of frosty
nights and warm days, had already deviated from
the perpendicular. It bore a conceit that, at the
first glance, might have gladdened the heart of a
naturalist, with the belief that he had made the
discovery of some unknown bird. The artist, however,
had sufficiently provided against the consequences
of so embarrassing a blunder, by considerately
writing beneath the offspring of his pencil,
“This is the sign of the Whip-Poor-Will;” a name,
that the most unlettered traveller, in those regions,
would be likely to know was vulgarly given to the
Wish-Ton-Wish, or the American night-hawk.

But few relics of the forest remained immediately
around the hamlet. The trees had long been
felled, and sufficient time had elapsed to remove
most of the vestiges of their former existence. But
as the eye receded from the cluster of buildings,
the signs of more recent inroads on the wilderness
became apparent, until the view terminated with

-- 249 --

[figure description] Page 249.[end figure description]

openings, in which piled logs and mazes of felled
trees announced the recent use of the axe.

At that early day, the American husbandman,
like the agriculturists of most of Europe, dwelt in
his village. The dread of violence from the savages
had given rise to a custom similar to that
which, centuries before, had been produced in the
other hemisphere by the inroads of more pretending
barbarians, and which, with few and distant exceptions,
had deprived rural scenery of a charm that,
it would seem, time and a better condition of society
are slow to repair. Some remains of this ancient
practice are still to be traced in the portion of the
Union of which we write, where, even at this day,
the farmer often quits the village to seek his scattered
fields in its neighborhood. Still, as man has
never been the subject of a system here, and as
each individual has always had the liberty of consulting
his own temper, bolder spirits early began
to break through a practice, by which quite as
much was lost in convenience as was gained in security.
Even in the scene we have been describing,
ten or twelve humble habitations were distributed
among the recent clearings on the sides of the
mountains, and in situations too remote to promise
much security against any sudden inroad of the
common enemy.

For general protection, in cases of the last extremity,
however, a stockaded dwelling, not unlike
that which we have had occasion to describe in our
earlier pages, stood in a convenient spot near the
hamlet. Its defences were stronger and more elaborate
than usual, the pickets being furnished with
flanking block-houses; and, in other respects, the
building bore the aspect of a work equal to any resistance
that might be required in the warfare of
those regions. The ordinary habitation of the priest
was within its gates; and hither most of the sick

-- 250 --

[figure description] Page 250.[end figure description]

were timely conveyed, in order to anticipate the
necessity of removals at more inconvenient moments.

It is scarcely necessary to tell the American, that
heavy wooden fences subdivided the whole of this
little landscape into inclosures of some eight or ten
acres in extent; that, here and there, cattle and
flocks were grazing without herdsmen or shepherds,
and that, while the fields nearest to the dwellings
were beginning to assume the appearance of a careful
and improved husbandry, those more remote became
gradually wilder and less cultivated, until the
half-reclaimed openings, with their blackened stubs
and barked trees, were blended with the gloom of
the living forest. These are, more or less, the accompaniments
of every rural scene, in districts of
the country where time has not yet effected more
than the first two stages of improvement.

At the distance of a short half-mile from the fortified
house, or garrison, as by a singular corruption
of terms the stockaded building was called, stood a
dwelling of pretensions altogether superior to any
in the hamlet. The buildings in question, though
simple, were extensive; and though scarcely other
than such as might belong to an agriculturist in
easy circumstances, still they were remarkable, in
that settlement, by the comforts which time alone
could accumulate, and some of which denoted an
advanced condition for a frontier family. In short,
there was an air about the establishment, as in the
disposition of its out-buildings, in the superior workmanship,
in the materials, and in numberless other
well-known circumstances, which went to show that
the whole of the edifices were re-constructions. The
fields near this habitation exhibited smoother surfaces
than those in the distance; the fences were
lighter and less rude; the stumps had absolutely
disappeared, and the gardens and homestead were
well planted with flourishing fruit-trees. A conical

-- 251 --

[figure description] Page 251.[end figure description]

eminence arose, at a short distance, in the rear of
the principal dwelling. It was covered with that
beautiful and peculiar ornament of an American
farm, a regular, thrifty, and luxuriant apple-orchard.
Still, age had not given its full beauty to the plantation,
which might have had a growth of some
eight or ten years. A blackened tower of stone,
which sustained the charred ruins of a superstructure
of wood, though of no great height in itself,
rose above the tallest of the trees, and stood a sufficient
memorial of some scene of violence, in the
brief history of the valley. There was also a small
block-house near the habitation; but, by the air of
neglect that reigned around, it was quite apparent
the little work had been of a hurried construction,
and of but temporary use. A few young plantations
of fruit-trees were also to be seen in different parts
of the valley, which was beginning to exhibit many
other evidences of an improved agriculture.

So far as all these artificial changes went, they
were of an English character. But it was England
devoid alike of its luxury and its poverty, and with
a superfluity of space that gave to the meanest
habitation in the view, an air of abundance and
comfort that is so often wanting about the dwellings
of the comparatively rich, in countries where man
is found bearing a far greater numerical proportion
to the soil, than was then, or is even now the case,
in the regions of which we write.

END OF VOL. I. eaf059v1.n1[1] Shanty, or Shantee, is a word much used in the newer settlements.
It strictly means a rude cabin of bark and brush, such as
is often erected in the forest for temporary purposes. But the
borderers often quaintly apply it to their own habitations. The
only derivation which the writer has heard for this American
word, is one that supposes it to be a corruption of Chientè, a term
said to be used among the Canadians to express a dog-kennel.
Previous section

Next section


Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851 [1829], The wept of wish ton-wish, volume 1 (Carey, Lea & Carey, Philadelphia) [word count] [eaf059v1].
Powered by PhiloLogic