The Prairie (26 page)

This extraordinary summons failed, however, of producing the desired
effect. It proved utterly unintelligible to his younger listeners,
with the exception of the few offensive terms, already sufficiently
distinguished, and though Ellen better comprehended the meaning of the
herald, she appeared as little moved by his rhetoric as her companions.
At those passages which he intended should be tender and affecting,
the intelligent girl, though tortured by painful feelings, had even
manifested a disposition to laugh, while to the threats she turned an
utterly insensible ear.

"I know not the meaning of all you wish to say, Dr. Battius," she
quietly replied, when he had ended; "but I am sure if it would teach
me to betray my trust, it is what I ought not to hear. I caution you to
attempt no violence, for let my wishes be what they may, you see I am
surrounded by a force that can easily put me down, and you know, or
ought to know, too well the temper of this family, to trifle in such
a matter with any of its members, let them be of what sex or age they
may."

"I am not entirely ignorant of human character," returned the
naturalist, prudently receding a little from the position, which he had,
until now, stoutly maintained at the very base of the hill. "But here
comes one who may know its secret windings still better than I."

"Ellen! Ellen Wade," cried Paul Hover, who had advanced to his elbow,
without betraying any of that sensitiveness which had so manifestly
discomposed the Doctor; "I didn't expect to find an enemy in you!"

"Nor shall you, when you ask that, which I can grant without treachery.
You know that my uncle has trusted his family to my care, and shall I
so far betray the trust as to let in his bitterest enemies to murder his
children, perhaps, and to rob him of the little which the Indians have
left?"

"Am I a murderer—is this old man—this officer of the States," pointing
to the trapper and his newly discovered friend, both of whom by this
time stood at his side, "is either of these likely to do the things you
name?"

"What is it then you ask of me?" said Ellen, wringing her hands, in
excessive doubt.

"The beast! nothing more nor less than the squatter's hidden, ravenous,
dangerous beast!"

"Excellent young woman," commenced the young stranger, who had so
lately joined himself to the party on the prairie—but his mouth
was immediately stopped by a significant sign from the trapper, who
whispered in his ear—

"Let the lad be our spokesman. Natur' will work in the bosom of the
child, and we shall gain our object, in good time."

"The whole truth is out, Ellen," Paul continued, "and we have lined
the squatter into his most secret misdoings. We have come to right the
wronged and to free the imprisoned; now, if you are the girl of a true
heart, as I have always believed, so far from throwing straws in our
way, you will join in the general swarming, and leave old Ishmael and
his hive to the bees of his own breed."

"I have sworn a solemn oath—"

"A compactum which is entered into through ignorance, or in duresse, is
null in the sight of all good moralists," cried the Doctor.

"Hush, hush," again the trapper whispered; "leave it all to natur' and
the lad!"

"I have sworn in the sight and by the name of Him who is the founder
and ruler of all that is good, whether it be in morals or in religion,"
Ellen continued, "neither to reveal the contents of that tent, nor to
help its prisoner to escape. We are both solemnly, terribly, sworn; our
lives perhaps have been the gift we received for the promises. It is
true you are masters of the secret, but not through any means of ours;
nor do I know that I can justify myself, for even being neutral, while
you attempt to invade the dwelling of my uncle in this hostile manner."

"I can prove beyond the power of refutation," the naturalist eagerly
exclaimed, "by Paley, Berkeley, ay, even by the immortal Binkerschoek,
that a compactum, concluded while one of the parties, be it a state or
be it an individual, is in durance—"

"You will ruffle the temper of the child, with your abusive language,"
said the cautious trapper, "while the lad, if left to human feelings,
will bring her down to the meekness of a fawn. Ah! you are like myself,
little knowing in the natur' of hidden kindnesses!"

"Is this the only vow you have taken, Ellen?" Paul continued in a tone
which, for the gay, light-hearted bee-hunter, sounded dolorous and
reproachful. "Have you sworn only to this? are the words which the
squatter says, to be as honey in your mouth, and all other promises like
so much useless comb?"

The paleness, which had taken possession of the usually cheerful
countenance of Ellen, was hid in a bright glow, that was plainly visible
even at the distance at which she stood. She hesitated a moment, as
if struggling to repress something very like resentment, before she
answered with all her native spirit—

"I know not what right any one has to question me about oaths and
promises, which can only concern her who has made them, if, indeed,
any of the sort you mention have ever been made at all. I shall hold
no further discourse with one who thinks so much of himself, and takes
advice merely of his own feelings."

"Now, old trapper, do you hear that!" said the unsophisticated
bee-hunter, turning abruptly to his aged friend. "The meanest insect
that skims the heavens, when it has got its load, flies straight and
honestly to its nest or hive, according to its kind; but the ways of a
woman's mind are as knotty as a gnarled oak, and more crooked than the
windings of the Mississippi!"

"Nay, nay, child," said the trapper, good-naturedly interfering in
behalf of the offending Paul, "you are to consider that youth is hasty,
and not overgiven to thought. But then a promise is a promise, and
not to be thrown aside and forgotten, like the hoofs and horns of a
buffaloe."

"I thank you for reminding me of my oath," said the still resentful
Ellen, biting her pretty nether lip with vexation; "I might else have
proved forgetful!"

"Ah! female natur' is awakened in her," said the old man, shaking his
head in a manner to show how much he was disappointed in the result;
"but it manifests itself against the true spirit!"

"Ellen!" cried the young stranger, who until now had been an attentive
listener to the parley, "since Ellen is the name by which you are
known—"

"They often add to it another. I am sometimes called by the name of my
father."

"Call her Nelly Wade at once," muttered Paul; "it is her rightful name,
and I care not if she keeps it for ever!"

"Wade, I should have added," continued the youth. "You will acknowledge
that, though bound by no oath myself, I at least have known how to
respect those of others. You are a witness yourself that I have forborne
to utter a single call, while I am certain it could reach those ears
it would gladden so much. Permit me then to ascend the rock, singly;
I promise a perfect indemnity to your kinsman, against any injury his
effects may sustain."

Ellen seemed to hesitate, but catching a glimpse of Paul, who stood
leaning proudly on his rifle, whistling, with an appearance of the
utmost indifference, the air of a boating song, she recovered her
recollection in time to answer,—

"I have been left the captain of the rock, while my uncle and his sons
hunt, and captain will I remain till he returns to receive back the
charge."

"This is wasting moments that will not soon return, and neglecting
an opportunity that may never occur again," the young soldier gravely
remarked. "The sun is beginning to fall already, and many minutes cannot
elapse before the squatter and his savage brood will be returning to
their huts."

Doctor Battius cast a glance behind him, and took up the discourse, by
saying—

"Perfection is always found in maturity, whether it be in the animal
or in the intellectual world. Reflection is the mother of wisdom, and
wisdom the parent of success. I propose that we retire to a discreet
distance from this impregnable position, and there hold a convocation,
or council, to deliberate on what manner we may sit down regularly
before the place; or, perhaps, by postponing the siege to another
season, gain the aid of auxiliaries from the inhabited countries, and
thus secure the dignity of the laws from any danger of a repulse."

"A storm would be better," the soldier smilingly answered, measuring the
height and scanning all its difficulties with a deliberate eye; "'twould
be but a broken arm or a bruised head at the worst."

"Then have at it!" shouted the impetuous bee-hunter, making a spring
that at once put him out of danger from shot, by carrying him beneath
the projecting ledge on which the garrison was posted; "now do your
worst, young devils of a wicked breed; you have but a moment to work
your mischief!"

"Paul! rash Paul!" shrieked Ellen; "another step and the rocks will
crush you! they hang by but a thread, and these girls are ready and
willing to let them fall!"

"Then drive the accursed swarm from the hive; for scale the rock I will,
though I find it covered with hornets."

"Let her if she dare!" tauntingly cried the eldest of the girls,
brandishing a musket with a mien and resolution that would have done
credit to her Amazonian dam. "I know you, Nelly Wade; you are with the
lawyers in your heart, and if you come a foot nigher, you shall have
frontier punishment. Put in another pry, girls; in with it! I should
like to see the man, of them all, that dare come up into the camp of
Ishmael Bush, without asking leave of his children!"

"Stir not, Paul; for your life keep beneath the rock!"

Ellen was interrupted by the same bright vision, which on the preceding
day had stayed another scarcely less portentous tumult, by exhibiting
itself on the same giddy height, where it was now seen.

"In the name of Him, who commandeth all, I implore you to pause—both
you, who so madly incur the risk, and you, who so rashly offer to take
that which you never can return!" said a voice, in a slightly foreign
accent, that instantly drew all eyes upward.

"Inez!" cried the officer, "do I again see you! mine shall you now
be, though a million devils were posted on this rock. Push up, brave
woodsman, and give room for another!"

The sudden appearance of the figure from the tent had created a
momentary stupor among the defendants of the rock, which might, with
suitable forbearance, have been happily improved; but startled by the
voice of Middleton, the surprised Phoebe discharged her musket at the
female, scarcely knowing whether she aimed at the life of a mortal or
at some being which belonged to another world. Ellen uttered a cry of
horror, and then sprang after her alarmed or wounded friend, she knew
not which, into the tent.

During this moment of dangerous by-play, the sounds of a serious attack
were very distinctly audible beneath. Paul had profited by the commotion
over his head to change his place so far, as to make room for Middleton.
The latter was followed by the naturalist, who, in a state of mental
aberration, produced by the report of the musket, had instinctively
rushed towards the rocks for cover. The trapper remained where he was
last seen, an unmoved but close observer of the several proceedings.
Though averse to enter into actual hostilities, the old man was,
however, far from being useless. Favoured by his position, he was
enabled to apprise his friends of the movements of those who plotted
their destruction above, and to advise and control their advance
accordingly.

In the mean time, the children of Esther were true to the spirit they
had inherited from their redoubtable mother. The instant they found
themselves delivered from the presence of Ellen and her unknown
companion, they bestowed an undivided attention on their more masculine
and certainly more dangerous assailants, who by this time had made a
complete lodgment among the crags of the citadel. The repeated summons
to surrender, which Paul uttered in a voice that he intended should
strike terror in their young bosoms, were as little heeded as were the
calls of the trapper to abandon a resistance, which might prove fatal to
some among them, without offering the smallest probability of eventual
success. Encouraging each other to persevere, they poised the fragments
of rocks, prepared the lighter missiles for immediate service, and
thrust forward the barrels of the muskets with a business-like air, and
a coolness, that would have done credit to men practised in warfare.

"Keep under the ledge," said the trapper, pointing out to Paul the
manner in which he should proceed; "keep in your foot more, lad—ah! you
see the warning was not amiss! had the stone struck it, the bees would
have had the prairies to themselves. Now, namesake of my friend; Uncas,
in name and spirit! now, if you have the activity of Le Cerf Agile, you
may make a far leap to the right, and gain twenty feet, without danger.
Beware the bush—beware the bush! 'twill prove a treacherous hold! Ah!
he has done it; safely and bravely has he done it! Your turn comes next,
friend; that follows the fruits of natur'. Push you to the left, and
divide the attention of the children. Nay, girls, fire,—my old ears
are used to the whistling of lead; and little reason have I to prove a
doe-heart, with fourscore years on my back." He shook his head with
a melancholy smile, but without flinching in a muscle, as the bullet,
which the exasperated Hetty fired, passed innocently at no great
distance from the spot where he stood. "It is safer keeping in your
track than dodging when a weak finger pulls the trigger," he continued
"but it is a solemn sight to witness how much human natur' is inclined
to evil, in one so young! Well done, my man of beasts and plants!
Another such leap, and you may laugh at all the squatter's bars and
walls. The Doctor has got his temper up! I see it in his eye, and
something good will come of him! Keep closer, man—keep closer."