The Prairie (63 page)

"Where have you put the body?" whispered Esther. "See, here are pick and
spade, that a brother of mine may sleep in the bosom of the earth!"

The moon broke from behind a mass of clouds, and the eye of the woman
was enabled to follow the finger of Ishmael. It pointed to a human form
swinging in the wind, beneath the ragged and shining arm of the willow.
Esther bent her head and veiled her eyes from the sight. But Ishmael
drew nigher, and long contemplated his work in awe, though not in
compunction. The leaves of the sacred book were scattered on the ground,
and even a fragment of the shelf had been displaced by the kidnapper
in his agony. But all was now in the stillness of death. The grim and
convulsed countenance of the victim was at times brought full into the
light of the moon, and again as the wind lulled, the fatal rope drew a
dark line across its bright disk. The squatter raised his rifle, with
extreme care, and fired. The cord was cut and the body came lumbering to
the earth a heavy and insensible mass.

Until now Esther had not moved nor spoken. But her hand was not slow
to assist in the labour of the hour. The grave was soon dug. It was
instantly made to receive its miserable tenant. As the lifeless form
descended, Esther, who sustained the head, looked up into the face of
her husband with an expression of anguish, and said—

"Ishmael, my man, it is very terrible! I cannot kiss the corpse of my
father's child!"

The squatter laid his broad hand on the bosom of the dead, and said—

"Abiram White, we all have need of mercy; from my soul do I forgive you!
May God in Heaven have pity on your sins!"

The woman bowed her face and imprinted her lips long and fervently on
the pallid forehead of her brother. After this came the falling clods
and all the solemn sounds of filling a grave. Esther lingered on her
knees, and Ishmael stood uncovered while the woman muttered a prayer.
All was then finished.

On the following morning the teams and herds of the squatter were seen
pursuing their course towards the settlements. As they approached the
confines of society the train was blended among a thousand others.
Though some of the numerous descendants of this peculiar pair were
reclaimed from their lawless and semi-barbarous lives, the principals of
the family, themselves, were never heard of more.

—No leave take I; for I will ride
As far as land will let me, by your side.
—Shakespeare.

The passage of the Pawnee to his village was interrupted by no scene of
violence. His vengeance had been as complete as it was summary. Not even
a solitary scout of the Siouxes was left on the hunting grounds he was
obliged to traverse, and of course the journey of Middleton's party
was as peaceful as if made in the bosom of the States. The marches were
timed to meet the weakness of the females. In short, the victors seemed
to have lost every trace of ferocity with their success, and appeared
disposed to consult the most trifling of the wants of that engrossing
people, who were daily encroaching on their rights, and reducing the
Red-men of the west, from their state of proud independence to the
condition of fugitives and wanderers.

Our limits will not permit a detail of the triumphal entry of the
conquerors. The exultation of the tribe was proportioned to its previous
despondency. Mothers boasted of the honourable deaths of their sons;
wives proclaimed the honour and pointed to the scars of their husbands,
and Indian girls rewarded the young braves with songs of triumph. The
trophies of their fallen enemies were exhibited, as conquered standards
are displayed in more civilised regions. The deeds of former warriors
were recounted by the aged men, and declared to be eclipsed by the glory
of this victory. While Hard-Heart himself, so distinguished for his
exploits from boyhood to that hour, was unanimously proclaimed and
re-proclaimed the worthiest chief and the stoutest brave that the
Wahcondah had ever bestowed on his most favoured children, the Pawnees
of the Loup.

Notwithstanding the comparative security in which Middleton found his
recovered treasure, he was not sorry to see his faithful and sturdy
artillerists standing among the throng, as he entered in the wild train,
and lifting their voices, in a martial shout, to greet his return.
The presence of this force, small as it was, removed every shadow of
uneasiness from his mind. It made him master of his movements, gave him
dignity and importance in the eyes of his new friends, and would enable
him to overcome the difficulties of the wide region which still lay
between the village of the Pawnees and the nearest fortress of his
countrymen. A lodge was yielded to the exclusive possession of Inez and
Ellen; and even Paul, when he saw an armed sentinel in the uniform of
the States, pacing before its entrance, was content to stray among the
dwellings of the "Red-skins," prying with but little reserve into their
domestic economy, commenting sometimes jocularly, sometimes gravely, and
always freely, on their different expedients, or endeavouring to make
the wondering housewives comprehend his quaint explanations of what he
conceived to be the better customs of the whites.

This enquiring and troublesome spirit found no imitators among the
Indians. The delicacy and reserve of Hard-Heart were communicated to his
people. When every attention, that could be suggested by their simple
manners and narrow wants, had been fulfilled, no intrusive foot presumed
to approach the cabins devoted to the service of the strangers. They
were left to seek their repose in the manner which most comported with
their habits and inclinations. The songs and rejoicings of the tribe,
however, ran far into the night, during the deepest hours of which, the
voice of more than one warrior was heard, recounting from the top of his
lodge, the deeds of his people and the glory of their triumphs.

Every thing having life, notwithstanding the excesses of the night, was
abroad with the appearance of the sun. The expression of exultation,
which had so lately been seen on every countenance, was now changed to
one better suited to the feeling of the moment. It was understood by
all, that the Pale-faces, who had befriended their chief were about
to take their final leave of the tribe. The soldiers of Middleton, in
anticipation of his arrival, had bargained with an unsuccessful trader
for the use of his boat, which lay in the stream ready to receive its
cargo, and nothing remained to complete the arrangements for the long
journey.

Middleton did not see this moment arrive entirely without distrust.
The admiration with which Hard-Heart regarded Inez, had not escaped his
jealous eye, any more than had the lawless wishes of Mahtoree. He knew
the consummate manner in which a savage could conceal his designs, and
he felt that it would be a culpable weakness to be unprepared for the
worst. Secret instructions were therefore given to his men, while the
preparations they made were properly masked behind the show of military
parade, with which it was intended to signalise their departure.

The conscience of the young soldier reproached him, when he saw the
whole tribe accompanying his party to the margin of the stream, with
unarmed hands and sorrowful countenances. They gathered in a circle
around the strangers and their chief, and became not only peaceful, but
highly interested observers of what was passing. As it was evident that
Hard-Heart intended to speak, the former stopped, and manifested their
readiness to listen, the trapper performing the office of interpreter.
Then the young chief addressed his people, in the usual metaphorical
language of an Indian. He commenced by alluding to the antiquity and
renown of his own nation. He spoke of their successes in the hunts and
on the war-path; of the manner in which they had always known how to
defend their rights and to chastise their enemies. After he had said
enough to manifest his respect for the greatness of the Loups, and to
satisfy the pride of the listeners, he made a sudden transition to the
race of whom the strangers were members. He compared their countless
numbers to the flights of migratory birds in the season of blossoms, or
in the fall of the year. With a delicacy, that none know better how
to practise than an Indian warrior, he made no direct mention of the
rapacious temper, that so many of them had betrayed, in their dealings
with the Red-men. Feeling that the sentiment of distrust was strongly
engrafted in the tempers of his tribe, he rather endeavoured to soothe
any just resentment they might entertain, by indirect excuses and
apologies. He reminded the listeners that even the Pawnee Loups had
been obliged to chase many unworthy individuals from their villages. The
Wahcondah sometimes veiled his countenance from a Red-man. No doubt the
Great Spirit of the Pale-faces often looked darkly on his children.
Such as were abandoned to the worker of evil could never be brave or
virtuous, let the colour of the skin be what it might. He bade his young
men look at the hands of the Big-knives. They were not empty, like those
of hungry beggars. Neither were they filled with goods, like those of
knavish traders. They were, like themselves, warriors, and they carried
arms which they knew well how to use—they were worthy to be called
brothers!

Then he directed the attention of all to the chief of the strangers. He
was a son of their great white father. He had not come upon the prairies
to frighten the buffaloes from their pastures, or to seek the game of
the Indians. Wicked men had robbed him of one of his wives; no doubt she
was the most obedient, the meekest, the loveliest of them all. They had
only to open their eyes to see that his words must be true. Now, that
the white chief had found his wife, he was about to return to his own
people in peace. He would tell them that the Pawnees were just, and
there would be a line of wampum between the two nations. Let all his
people wish the strangers a safe return to their towns. The warriors of
the Loups knew both how to receive their enemies, and how to clear the
briars from the path of their friends.

The heart of Middleton beat quick, as the young partisan
[18]
alluded to
the charms of Inez, and for an instant he cast an impatient glance at
his little line of artillerists; but the chief from that moment appeared
to forget he had ever seen so fair a being. His feelings, if he had any
on the subject, were veiled behind the cold mask of Indian self-denial.
He took each warrior by the hand, not forgetting the meanest soldier,
but his cold and collected eye never wandered, for an instant, towards
either of the females. Arrangements had been made for their comfort,
with a prodigality and care that had not failed to excite some surprise
in his young men, but in no other particular did he shock their manly
pride, by betraying any solicitude in behalf of the weaker sex.

The leave-taking was general and imposing. Each male Pawnee was sedulous
to omit no one of the strange warriors in his attentions, and of course
the ceremony occupied some time. The only exception, and that was not
general, was in the case of Dr. Battius. Not a few of the young men,
it is true, were indifferent about lavishing civilities on one of so
doubtful a profession, but the worthy naturalist found some consolation
in the more matured politeness of the old men, who had inferred, that
though not of much use in war, the medicine of the Big-knives might
possibly be made serviceable in peace.

When all of Middleton's party had embarked, the trapper lifted a small
bundle, which had lain at his feet during the previous proceedings,
and whistling Hector to his side, he was the last to take his seat. The
artillerists gave the usual cheers, which were answered by a shout from
the tribe, and then the boat was shoved into the current, and began to
glide swiftly down its stream.

A long and a musing, if not a melancholy, silence succeeded this
departure. It was first broken by the trapper, whose regret was not the
least visible in his dejected and sorrowful eye—

"They are a valiant and an honest tribe," he said; "that will I say
boldly in their favour; and second only do I take them to be to that
once mighty but now scattered people, the Delawares of the Hills. Ah's
me, Captain, if you had seen as much good and evil as I have seen in
these nations of Red-skins, you would know of how much value was a brave
and simple-minded warrior. I know that some are to be found, who both
think and say that an Indian is but little better than the beasts of
these naked plains. But it is needful to be honest in one's self, to be
a fitting judge of honesty in others. No doubt, no doubt they know their
enemies, and little do they care to show to such any great confidence,
or love."

"It is the way of man," returned the Captain; "and it is probable they
are not wanting in any of his natural qualities."

"No, no; it is little that they want, that natur' has had to give. But
as little does he know of the temper of a Red-skin, who has seen but one
Indian, or one tribe, as he knows of the colour of feathers who has only
looked upon a crow. Now, friend steersman, just give the boat a sheer
towards yonder, low, sandy point, and a favour will be granted at a
short asking."

"For what?" demanded Middleton; "we are now in the swiftest of the
current, and by drawing to the shore we shall lose the force of the
stream."

"Your tarry will not be long," returned the old man, applying his own
hand to the execution of that which he had requested. The oarsmen had
seen enough of his influence, with their leader, not to dispute his
wishes, and before time was given for further discussion on the subject,
the bow of the boat had touched the land.

"Captain," resumed the other, untying his little wallet with great
deliberation, and even in a manner to show he found satisfaction in the
delay, "I wish to offer you a small matter of trade. No great bargain,
mayhap; but still the best that one, of whose hand the skill of the
rifle has taken leave, and who has become no better than a miserable
trapper, can offer before we part."