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Hitherto our pilgrims, though on the frontier of the
civilized world, and directly in the route from Canada
to the colonies of New England, had escaped the
ravages of Indian hostility. They had purchased the
lands they occupied from the original proprietors at a
price which, though it may now appear totally inadequate
to their value, was at that time a fair equivalent.
It is the labor of man that gives value to the earth;
and to the roaming tenants of the uncultivated wilds,
whose claims could not be said to be founded on possession,
the relinquishment of a small portion was of
little consequence. The early settlers of this country
have been accused by philanthropists, whose zeal outruns
their knowledge, of having robbed the Indians of
their lands. But such was not the case. The condition
of all the early grants of public lands for immediate
settlement was the purchase of the Indian rights;

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and it must be obvious to all reflecting minds, that in
the first stages of colonization, the weakness of the
colonists was such as to preclude all acquisitions by
force. The friendship of the savages was indispensable
to every new settlement, and for a long period they
were made either by fair purchase, or by consent of the
Indians. When, in process of time, owing to causes
which seem inseparable from the contact of the civilized
and savage man, wars ensued between the two
races, the right of conquest, recognized, if not by the
law of nature at least by the practice of all civilized
as well as savage nations, became applicable here as
well as elsewhere; and it was then that lands were
acquired at the price, not of money, but blood. The
remoteness and obscurity of the scenes and times render
it difficult to decide which party was the first
aggressor; but it would be in opposition to all reason
and experience to presume that while the whiteman
continued the weaker party, he would wantonly provoke
the hostility of the stronger, and thus ensure his
own destruction. The aborigines of this country are
notoriously a jealous, as well as a revengeful race; and
so soon as they began to comprehend the truth, that
the progress of the whitemen involved their own certain
fate, from that moment they determined to repel
or exterminate the intruders.

It was at this period that the conviction seems to
have become general among the savages of New England,
who had formed a general confederacy to annihilate
the race of the whiteman, and by a single blow

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free themselves from all apprehension of the consequences
which they foresaw awaited them; accordingly
the plan was matured with a secrecy almost
miraculous, and the moment appointed for striking
the blow.

One Sabbath day, when the little congregation had
gathered together according to custom with their
weapons at hand—for danger accompanied them in the
fields as well as in the house of prayer—when the
auditors were about to offer up their grateful acknowledgments
to the Giver of all good, and when the good
pastor was fervently inculcating the peaceful doctrines
of the Saviour of mankind, the shrill war-whoop
sounded the knell of death in their ears, and called
their thoughts from heaven to earth. The men seized
their arms and rushed forth only to encounter a band
of painted warriors, who set upon them with savage
fury. They were taken by surprize, and thrown into
confusion; their efforts were without concert, for the
military experience of Harold was inapplicable to
Indian warfare, and consequently ineffectual. The
savages gradually gained ground, and neared the
church, where the women and children were awaiting
their fate in trembling apprehension, the whitemen
were on the point of retreating to the sacred asylum,
there to make a last effort, and the fate of all, wives,
children, friends, everything dear hung on the moment,
when suddenly there appeared among them an aged
man, with long white beard, and head whitened with
the snows of many winters, who called on them in a

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voice that seemed accustomed to obedience, and
arrested their retreat. His appearance awed the
savages, and for a brief space arrested their efforts.

“Will the champions of the true faith,” cried he in
a loud voice, “flee before the children of Satan? Stop—
turn—and fight the good fight for your wives, your
children, and your God! Follow me!” The old man
placed himself at the head of the wavering troop, and
ere the awe-struck savages recovered from their dismay,
arranged his little band with martial skill, and
led them on to victory. The affrighted barbarians soon
fled before what they believed a supernatural being;
and when the battle was gained, the old man disappeared
as suddenly as he came. He was never seen
again, and none knew what became of him. It was
the last appearance of one who had sat in judgment
on a king.

Previous to the confusion which had been arrested
by the vision of the old man with the white beard,
Harold, who had stood foremost in the fight, was
knocked down and tomahawked, by a savage who
came behind him unawares. Miriam saw him fall,
and, in spite of all opposition, rushed out, and raising
his head from the ground, supported him in her arms,
while she endeavored to staunch the blood that flowed
from a deep wound in his back between the shoulders.
When the fight was over, he was borne to his home,
insensible from loss of blood, followed by his weeping
daughter. He was brought to himself by slow degrees,
but it was only to become sensible that his wound was

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mortal. Yet he lived several days, supporting, with
manly resignation, those pains of body only equalled
by those of his mind. The thought of leaving his
lonely, friendless child in this remote, exposed region
without a protector, and among those who shared not
a drop of her kindred blood, smote sorely on his heart,
though his piety persuaded him he might safely leave
her to the protection of Heaven. When he beheld that
dutiful and loving child, who he knew was heavily
laden with sorrows of her own, forgetting herself as if
she had no being; hovering over him by day and by
night, like a ministering angel, anticipating his wants,
administering to his wound, and soothing him with
soft commiseration, his heart smote him deeply that
but for him she might now have one to protect and
cherish her when he was gone. In the midst of these
painful recollections and forebodings, he one day,
shortly before he died, recalled to mind the proposal of
Tobias Harpsfield, and determined to make one more
effort in his behalf, rather than leave his daughter
thus alone in the world.

“Daughter,” said he to Miriam, who was sitting in
the breathless calm of speechless anxiety, watching
him as these painful thoughts passed over his mind,
“Daughter, thou knowest we are soon to part for ever
in this world, to meet, I trust, hereafter in a better.
Art thou prepared for the trial?”

“Father,” replied she, “I have been taught, and
hope I have learned, submission to the will of Heaven.”

“True, Miriam; thou hast answered like a

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Christian. But I am about to leave thee here in this wilderness
alone and unprotected, save by thy innocence
and piety; and though I have especial trust in these,
I own I should die more assured and happy if I could
leave thee under the protection of some worthy husband,
like Master Tobias Harpsfield.”

“Father!” exclaimed Miriam, in dismay.

“Nay, hear me, Miriam. I once before told thee I
regretted most deeply my stern, and, I will add,
bigotted opposition to the dearest wishes of thy heart.
When I recall the past, I can find no fault with Langley
Tyringham. But he is now dead, and—”

“But his memory did not die with him, dear father,”
interrupted Miriam; “I, at least, will never forget him.”

“But his memory will not protect thee when I am
gone.”

“Heaven will protect me,” said she, casting her
eyes upwards; “a better protector by far than an
unworthy, selfish husband. But, dear father, do not
let the few last hours we are permitted to pass together
be embittered by a subject on which we never can
agree. I have thus far kept my pledge never to wed
without thy consent, and humbly urge that filial duty
can justly require no greater test of obedience. Oh!
leave me—I beseech thee, leave me to the fulfilment
of another vow I made to poor Langley at parting,
which I hold equally sacred—that of fidelity to the
memory of the only man that ever awakened me to
the conviction that there was another feeling stronger
and more enduring than even filial love.”

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“Well, daughter, be it so. Thou hast made a great
sacrifice to me—I will make a lesser one to thee. In
these last moments of my life, I hope I have recovered
what I too often lost, the peaceful empire over myself.
Let the subject be at rest. I will trust thy innocence
to One who, if He does not always shield it
here, will assuredly reward it hereafter. Remember
always, Miriam, that it is better to suffer than
to merit suffering; that there is no shield for innocence
like innocence itself and no balm for sorrow
like patience and resignation. I will trust thee to
Heaven.”

Miriam earnestly begged forgiveness for opposing
his wishes, adding—

“Even could I forget my vow to Langley, I could
never have consented to wed Tobias Harpsfield. Believe
me, my father, he is equally unworthy of thee
and thine. I have indeed but little experience in the
world, but I have lived with those who taught me to
know the look and language of sincerity, and my heart
has communed with one who was the soul of honor
and the mirror of truth. I have seen into the secret
heart of this bad man, and believe me, father, he is a
hypocrite and a villain. I would rather suffer the
Indian tortures of scalp and fire than wed with that
man. But, dear father, let not my selfish sorrows
weary thee.”

“No, daughter; and, if thou did, a few hours more
or less of life are only a few sands of the hour-glass.
I have something else to say before I have done.”

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