The Wept of Wish-Ton-Wish (2025)

A Tale

By J. Fenimore Cooper

"But she is dead to him, to all;
Her lute hangs silent on the wall,
And on the stairs, and at the door,
Her fairy step is heard no more."

Rogers.

1871.

The kind and disinterested manner in which you have furnished thematerials of the following tale, merits a public acknowledgment. Asyour reluctance to appear before the world, however, imposes arestraint, you must receive such evidence of gratitude, as your ownprohibition will allow.

Notwithstanding there are so many striking and deeply interesting eventsin the early history of those from whom you derive your being, yet arethere hundreds of other families in this country, whose traditions, thoughless accurately and minutely preserved than the little narrative you havesubmitted to my inspection, would supply the materials of many movingtales. You have every reason to exult in your descent, for, surely, if anyman may claim to be a citizen and a proprietor in the Union, it is one,that, like yourself, can point to a line of ancestors whose origin islost in the obscurity of time. You are truly an American. In your eyes, weof a brief century or two, must appear as little more than denizens quiterecently admitted to the privilege of a residence. That you may continueto enjoy peace and happiness, in that land where your fathers so longflourished, is the sincere wish of your obliged friend,

The Author

At this distant period, when Indian traditions are listened to with theinterest that we lend to the events of a dark age, it is not easy toconvey a vivid image of the dangers and privations that our ancestorsencountered, in preparing the land we enjoy for its present state ofsecurity and abundance. It is the humble object of the tale that will befound in the succeeding pages, to perpetuate the recollection of some ofthe practices and events peculiar to the early days of our history.

The general character of the warfare pursued by the natives is too wellknown to require any preliminary observations; but it may be advisable todirect the attention of the reader, for a few moments, to those leadingcircumstances in the history of the times, that may have some connexionwith the principal business of the legend.

The territory which now composes the three states of Massachusetts,Connecticut and Rhode-Island, is said, by the best-informed of ourannalists, to have been formerly occupied by four great nations ofIndians, who were, as usual, subdivided into numberless dependent tribes.Of these people, the Massachusetts possessed a large portion of the landwhich now composes the state of that name; the Wampanoags dwelt in whatwas once the Colony of Plymouth, and in the northern districts of theProvidence Plantations; the Narragansetts held the well-known islands ofthe beautiful bay which receives its name from their nation, and the moresouthern counties of the Plantations; while the Pequots, or as it isordinarily written and pronounced, the Pequods, were masters of a broadregion that lay along the western boundaries of the three other districts.

There is great obscurity thrown around the polity of the Indians, whousually occupied the country lying near the sea.

The Europeans, accustomed to despotic governments, very naturally supposedthat the chiefs, found in possession of power, were monarchs to whomauthority had been transmitted in virtue of their birth-rights. Theyconsequently gave them the name of kings.

How far this opinion of the governments of the aborigines was true remainsa question, though there is certainly reason to think it less erroneous inrespect to the tribes of the Atlantic states, than to those who have sincebeen found further west, where, it is sufficiently known, thatinstitutions exist which approach much nearer to republics than tomonarchies. It may, however, have readily happened that the son, profitingby the advantages of his situation, often succeeded to the authority ofthe father, by the aid of influence, when the established regulations ofthe tribe acknowledged no hereditary claim. Let the principle of thedescent of power be what it would, it is certain the experience of ourancestors proves, that, in very many instances, the child was seen tooccupy the station formerly filled by the father; and, that in most ofthose situations of emergency, in which a people so violent were oftenplaced, the authority he exercised was as summary as it was general. Theappellation of Incas came, like those of the Cæsars and Pharoahs, to be asort of synonyme for chief with the Mohegans, a tribe of the Pequods,among whom several warriors of this name were known to govern in duesuccession. The renowned Metacom, or, as he is better known to the whites,King Philip, was certainly the son of Massassoit, the Sachem of theWampanoags that the emigrants found in authority when they landed on therock of Plymouth. Miantonimoh, the daring but hapless rival of that Uncaswho ruled the whole of the Pequod nation, was succeeded in authority,among the Narragansetts, by his not less heroic and enterprising son,Conanchet; and, even at a much later day, we find instances of thistransmission of power, which furnish strong reasons for believing that theorder of succession was in the direct line of blood.

The early annals of our history are not wanting in touching and nobleexamples of savage heroism. Virginia has its legend of the powerfulPowhatan and his magnanimous daughter, the ill-requited Pocahontas; andthe chronicles of New-England are filled with the bold designs and daringenterprises of Miantonimoh, of Metacom, and of Conanchet. All thelast-named warriors proved themselves worthy of better fates, dying in acause and in a manner, that, had it been their fortunes to have lived in amore advanced state of society, would have enrolled their names among theworthies of the age.

The first serious war, to which the settlers of New-England were exposed,was the struggle with the Pequods. This people was subdued after a fierceconflict; and from being enemies, all, who were not either slain or sentinto distant slavery, were glad to become the auxiliaries of theirconquerors. This contest occurred within less than twenty years after thePuritans had sought refuge in America.

There is reason to believe that Metacom foresaw the fate of his ownpeople, in the humbled fortunes of the Pequods. Though his father had beenthe earliest and constant friend of the whites, it is probable that thePuritans owed some portion of this amity to a dire necessity. We are toldthat a terrible malady had raged among the Wampanoags but a short timebefore the arrival of the emigrants, and that their numbers had beenfearfully reduced by its ravages. Some authors have hinted at theprobability of this disease having been the yellow fever, whosevisitations are known to be at uncertain, and, apparently, at very distantintervals. Whatever might have been the cause of this destruction of hispeople, Massassoit is believed to have been induced, by the consequences,to cultivate the alliance of a nation, who could protect him against theattacks of his ancient and less afflicted foes. But the son appears tohave viewed the increasing influence of the whites with eyes more jealousthan those of the father. He passed the morning of his life in maturinghis great plan for the destruction of the strange race, and his lateryears were spent in abortive attempts to put this bold design inexecution. His restless activity in plotting the confederation against theEnglish, his fierce and ruthless manner of waging the war, his defeat, andhis death, are too well known to require repetition.

There is also a wild and romantic interest thrown about the obscurehistory of a Frenchman of that period. This man is said to have been anofficer of rank in the service of his king, and to have belonged to theprivileged class which then monopolized all the dignities and emolumentsof the kingdom of France. The traditions, and even the written annals ofthe first century of our possession of America, connect the Baron de laCastine with the Jesuits, who were thought to entertain views ofconverting the savages to Christianity, not unmingled with the desire ofestablishing a more temporal dominion over their minds. It is, however,difficult to say whether taste, or religion, or policy, or necessity,induced this nobleman to quit the saloons of Paris for the wilds of thePenobscot. It is merely known that he passed the greater part of his lifeon that river, in a rude fortress that was then called a palace, that hehad many wives, a numerous progeny, and that he possessed a greatinfluence over most of the tribes that dwelt in his vicinity. He is alsobelieved to have been the instrument of furnishing the savages, who werehostile to the English, with ammunition, and with weapons of a more deadlycharacter than those used in their earlier wars. In whatever degree he mayhave participated in the plan to exterminate the Puritans, death preventedhim from assisting in the final effort of Metacom.

The Narragansetts are often mentioned in these pages. A few years beforethe period at which the tale commences, Miantonimoh had waged a ruthlesswar against Uncas, the Pequod or Mohegan chief. Fortune favored thelatter, who, probably assisted by his civilized allies, not only overthrewthe bands of the other, but succeeded in capturing the person of hisenemy. The chief of the Narragansetts lost his life, through the agency ofthe whites, on the place that is now known by the appellation of "theSachem's plain."

It remains only to throw a little light on the leading incidents of thewar of King Philip. The first blow was struck in June, 1675, rather morethan half a century after the English first landed in New-England, andjust a century before blood was drawn in the contest which separated thecolonies from the mother country. The scene was a settlement near thecelebrated Mount Hope, in Rhode-Island, where Metacom and his father hadboth long held their councils. From this point, bloodshed and massacreextended along the whole frontier of New-England. Bodies of horse and footwere enrolled to meet the foe, and towns were burnt, and lives were takenby both parties, with little, and often with no respect for age,condition, or sex.

In no struggle with the native owners of the soil was the growing power ofthe whites placed in so great jeopardy, as in this celebrated contest withKing Philip. The venerable historian of Connecticut estimates the loss oflives at nearly one-tenth of the whole number of the fighting men, and thedestruction of houses and other edifices to have been in an equalproportion. One family in every eleven, throughout all New-England, wasburnt out. As the colonists nearest the sea were exempt from the danger,an idea may be formed, from this calculation, of the risk and sufferingsof those who dwelt in more exposed situations. The Indians did not escapewithout retaliation. The principal nations, already mentioned, were somuch reduced as never afterwards to offer any serious resistance to thewhites, who have since converted the whole of their ancienthunting-grounds into the abodes of civilized man. Metacom, Miantonimoh,and Conanchet, with their warriors, have become the heroes of song andlegend, while the descendants of those who laid waste their dominions, anddestroyed their race, are yielding a tardy tribute to the high daring andsavage grandeur of their characters.

"I may disjoin my hand, but not my faith."

Shakespeare.

The incidents of this tale must be sought in a remote period of the annalsof America. A colony of self-devoted and pious refugees from religiouspersecution had landed on the rock of Plymouth, less than half a centurybefore the time at which the narrative commences; and they, and theirdescendants, had already transformed many a broad waste of wilderness intosmiling fields and cheerful villages. The labors of the emigrants had beenchiefly limited to the country on the coast, which, by its proximity tothe waters that rolled between them and Europe, afforded the semblance ofa connexion with the land of their forefathers and the distant abodes ofcivilization. But enterprise, and a desire to search for still morefertile domains, together with the temptation offered by the vast andunknown regions that lay along their western and northern borders, hadinduced many bold adventurers to penetrate more deeply into the forests.The precise spot, to which we desire to transport the imagination of thereader, was one of these establishments of what may, not inaptly, becalled 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 Say and Seal, and Brooke, connected with a fewassociates, obtained a grant of the territory which now composes the stateof Connecticut, the King of England affixed his name to a patent, whichconstituted them proprietors of a country that should extend from theshores of the Atlantic to those of the South Sea. Notwithstanding theapparent hopelessness of ever subduing, or of even occupying a territorylike this, emigrants from the mother colony of Massachusetts were foundready to commence the Herculean labor, within fifteen years from the daywhen they had first put foot upon the well-known rock itself. The fort ofSay-Brooke, the towns of Windsor, Hartford, and New-Haven, soon spranginto existence, and, from that period to this, the little community, whichthen had birth, has been steadily, calmly, and prosperously advancing itscareer, a model of order and reason, and the hive from which swarms ofindustrious, hardy and enlightened yeomen have since spread themselvesover a surface so vast, as to create an impression that they still aspireto the possession of the immense regions included in their original grant.

Among the religionists, whom disgust of persecution had early driven intothe voluntary exile of the colonies, was more than an usual proportion ofmen of character and education. The reckless and the gay, younger sons,soldiers unemployed, and students from the inns of court, early soughtadvancement and adventure in the more southern provinces, where slavesoffered impunity from labor, and where war, with a bolder and morestirring policy, oftener gave rise to scenes of excitement, and, ofcourse, to the exercise of the faculties best suited to their habits anddispositions. The more grave, and the religiously-disposed, found refugein the colonies of New-England. Thither a multitude of private gentlementransferred their fortunes and their families, imparting a character ofintelligence and a moral elevation to the country, which it has noblysustained to the present hour.

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

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

Like himself, his consort was born of one of those families, which, takingtheir rise in the franklins of the times of the Edwards and Henrys, hadbecome possessors of hereditary landed estates, that, by theirgradually-increasing value, had elevated them to the station of smallcountry gentlemen. In most other nations of Europe, they would have beenrated in the class of the petite noblesse. But the domestic happiness ofCapt. Heathcote was doomed to receive a fatal blow, from a quarter wherecircumstances had given him but little reason to apprehend danger. Thevery day he landed in the long-wished-for asylum, his wife made him thefather of a noble boy, a gift that she bestowed at the melancholy price ofher own existence. Twenty years the senior of the woman who had followedhis fortunes to these distant regions, the retired warrior had alwaysconsidered 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 thevisions which Captain Heathcote entertained of a future world weresufficiently vivid and distinct, there is reason to think they were seenthrough a tolerably long vista of quiet and comfortable enjoyment in this.Though the calamity cast an additional aspect of seriousness over acharacter that was already more than chastened by the subtleties ofsectarian doctrines, he was not of a nature to be unmanned by anyvicissitude of human fortune. He lived on, useful and unbending in hishabits, a pillar of strength in the way of wisdom and courage to theimmediate neighborhood among whom he resided, but reluctant from temper,and from a disposition which had been shadowed by withered happiness, toenact that part in the public affairs of the little state, to which hiscomparative wealth and previous habits might well have entitled him toaspire. He gave his son such an education as his own resources and thoseof the infant colony of Massachusetts afforded, and, by a sort of delusivepiety, into whose merits we have no desire to look, he thought he had alsofurnished a commendable evidence of his own desperate resignation to thewill of Providence, in causing him to be publicly christened by the nameof Content. His own baptismal appellation was Mark; as indeed had beenthat of most of his ancestors, for two or three centuries. When the worldwas a little uppermost in his thoughts, as sometimes happens with the mosthumbled spirits, he had even been heard to speak of a Sir Mark of hisfamily, who had ridden a knight in the train of one of the more warlikekings of his native land.

There is some ground for believing, that the great parent of evil earlylooked with a malignant eye on the example of peacefulness, and ofunbending morality, that the colonists of New-England were setting to therest 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 inquest of religious peace, were ere long seen separating their fortunes, inorder that each might enjoy, unmolested, those peculiar shades of faith,which all had the presumption, no less than the folly, to believe werenecessary to propitiate the omnipotent and merciful father of theuniverse. If our task were one of theology, a wholesome moral on thevanity, no less than on the absurdity of the race, might be hereintroduced to some advantage.

When Mark Heathcote announced to the community, in which he had nowsojourned more than twenty years, that he intended for a second time toestablish his altars in the wilderness, in the hope that he and hishousehold might worship God as to them seemed most right, the intelligencewas received with a feeling allied to awe. Doctrine and zeal weremomentarily forgotten, in the respect and attachment which had beenunconsciously created by the united influence of the stern severity of hisair, and of the undeniable virtues of his practice. The elders of thesettlement communed with him freely and in charity; but the voice ofconciliation and alliance came too late. He listened to the reasonings ofthe ministers, who were assembled from all the adjoining parishes, insullen respect: and he joined in the petitions for light and instruction,that were offered up on the occasion, with the deep reverence with whichhe ever drew near to the footstool of the Almighty; but he did both in atemper into which too much positiveness of spiritual pride had entered, toopen his heart to that sympathy and charity, which, as they are thecharacteristics of our mild and forbearing doctrines, should be the studyof those who profess to follow their precepts. All that was seemly, andall that was usual, were done; but the purpose of the stubborn sectarianremained unchanged. His final decision is worthy of being recorded.

"My youth was wasted in ungodliness and ignorance," he said, "but in mymanhood have I known the Lord. Near two-score years have I toiled for thetruth, 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 myloins are girded and my race is nearly run, shall I become a backsliderand falsifier of the word? Much have I endured, as you know, in quittingthe earthly mansion of my fathers, and in encountering the dangers of seaand land for the faith; and, rather than let go its hold, will I once morecheerfully devote to the howling wilderness, ease, offspring, and, shouldit 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 nearlyunbending severity of his brow, the milk of human kindness had often beenseen distilling from his stern nature in acts that did not admit ofmisinterpretation. There was scarcely a young beginner in the laboriousand ill-requited husbandry of the township he inhabited, a district at notime considered either profitable or fertile, who could not recall somesecret and kind aid which had flowed from a hand that, to the world,seemed clenched in cautious and reserved frugality; nor did any of thefaithful of his vicinity cast their fortunes together in wedlock, withoutreceiving 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 ofMark Heathcote, were seen quitting his door, and taking the road whichled to the sea-side, not a human being, of sufficient age, within manymiles of his residence, was absent from the interesting spectacle. Theleave-taking, as usual on all serious occasions, was preceded by a hymnand prayer, and then the sternly-minded adventurer embraced his neighbors,with a mien, in which a subdued exterior struggled fearfully and strangelywith emotions that, more than once, threatened to break through even theformidable barriers of his acquired manner. The inhabitants of everybuilding on the road were in the open air, to receive and to return theparting benediction. More than once, they, who guided his teams, werecommanded to halt, and all near, possessing human aspirations and humanresponsibility, were collected to offer petitions in favor of him whodeparted and of those who remained. The requests for mortal privilegeswere somewhat light and hasty, but the askings in behalf of intellectualand spiritual light were long, fervent, and oft-repeated. In thischaracteristic manner did one of the first of the emigrants to the newworld make his second removal into scenes of renewed bodily suffering,privation and danger.Neither person nor property was transferred from place to place, in thiscountry, at the middle of the seventeenth century, with the dispatch andwith the facilities of the present time. The roads were necessarily fewand short, and communication by water was irregular, tardy, and far fromcommodius. A wide barrier of forest lying between that portion ofMassachusetts-bay from which Mark Heathcote emigrated, and the spot, nearthe Connecticut river, to which it was his intention to proceed, he wasinduced to adopt the latter mode of conveyance. But a long delayintervened between the time when he commenced his short journey to thecoast, and the hour when he was finally enabled to embark. During thisdetention he and his household sojourned among the godly-minded of thenarrow peninsula, where there already existed the germ of a flourishingtown, and where the spires of a noble and picturesque city now elevatethemselves 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 therecently-established town of Boston, of an age, station, opinions,fortunes, and, what was of still greater importance, of sympathies suitedto his own. Her form had long mingled with those holy images, which hisstern instruction taught him to keep most familiarly before the mirror ofhis thoughts. It is not surprising, then, that the youth hailed the delayas propitious to his wishes, or that he turned it to the account, whichthe promptings of a pure affection so naturally suggested. He was unitedto the gentle Ruth Harding only the week before the father sailed on hissecond pilgrimage.

It is not our intention to dwell on the incidents of the voyage. Thoughthe genius of an extraordinary man had discovered the world which was nowbeginning to fill with civilized men, navigation at that day was notbrilliant in accomplishments. A passage among the shoals of Nantucket musthave been one of actual danger, no less than of terror; and the ascent ofthe Connecticut itself was an exploit worthy of being mentioned. In duetime the adventurers landed at the English fort of Hartford, where theytarried for a season, in order to obtain rest and spiritual comfort. Butthe peculiarity of doctrine, on which Mark Heathcote laid so much stress,was one that rendered it advisable for him to retire still further fromthe haunts of men. Accompanied by a few followers, he proceeded on anexploring expedition, and the end of the summer found him once moreestablished on an estate that he had acquired by the usual simple formspractised in the colonies, and at the trifling cost for which extensivedistricts were then set apart as the property of individuals.

The love of the things of this life, while it certainly existed, was farfrom being predominant in the affections of the Puritan. He was frugalfrom habit and principle, more than from an undue longing after worldlywealth. He contented himself, therefore, with acquiring an estate thatshould be valuable, rather from its quality and beauty, than from itsextent. Many such places offered themselves, between the settlements ofWeathersfield and Hartford, and that imaginary line which separated thepossessions 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, nearthe northern boundary of the latter. This spot, by the aid of anexpenditure that might have been considered lavish for the country and theage, if some lingering of taste, which even the self-denying and subduedhabits of his later life had not entirely extinguished, and of greatnatural beauty in the distribution of land, water and wood, the emigrantcontrived to convert into an abode, that was not more desirable for itsretirement from the temptations of the world, than for its ruralloveliness.

After this memorable act of conscientious self-devotion, years passed awayin quiet, amid a species of negative prosperity. Rumors from the old worldreached the ears of the tenants of this secluded settlement, months afterthe events to which they referred were elsewhere forgotten, and tumultsand wars in the sister colonies came to their knowledge only at distantand tardy intervals. In the mean time, the limits of the colonialestablishments were gradually extending themselves, and valleys werebeginning to be cleared nearer and nearer to their own. Old age had nowbegun 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 enteredthe forest, was giving way to the brown covering produced by exposure andtoil. We say of toil, for, independently of the habits and opinions of thecountry, which strongly reprobated idleness, even in those most gifted byfortune, the daily difficulties of their situation, the chase, and thelong and intricate passages that the veteran himself was compelled toadventure in the surrounding forest, partook largely of the nature of theterm we have used. Ruth continued blooming and youthful, though maternalanxiety was soon added to her other causes of care. Still, for a longseason, nought occurred to excite extraordinary regrets for the step theyhad taken, or to create particular uneasiness in behalf of the future. Theborderers, for such by their frontier position they had in truth become,heard the strange and awful tidings of the dethronement of one king, ofthe interregnum, as a reign of more than usual vigor and prosperity iscalled, and of the restoration of the son of him who is strangely enoughtermed a martyr. To all these eventful and unwonted chances in thefortunes of kings, Mark Heathcote listened with deep and reverentialsubmission to the will of him, in whose eyes crowns and sceptres aremerely the more costly baubles of the world. Like most of hiscontemporaries, who had sought shelter in the western continent, hispolitical opinions, if not absolutely republican, had a leaning to libertythat was strongly in opposition to the doctrine of the divine rights ofthe monarch, while he had been too far removed from the stirring passionswhich had gradually excited those nearer to the throne, to lose theirrespect for its sanctity, and to sully its brightness with blood. When thetransient and straggling visiters that, at long intervals, visited hissettlement, spoke of the Protector, who for so many years ruled Englandwith an iron hand, the eyes of the old man would gleam with sudden andsingular interest; and once, when commenting after evening prayer on thevanity and the vicissitudes of this life, he acknowledged that theextraordinary individual, who was, in substance if not in name, seated onthe throne of the Plantagenets, had been the boon companion and ungodlyassociate of many of his youthful hours. Then would follow a long,wholesome, extemporaneous homily on the idleness of setting the affectionson the things of life, and a half-suppressed, but still intelligiblecommendation of the wiser course which had led him to raise his owntabernacle in the wilderness, instead of weakening the chances of eternalglory by striving too much for the possession of the treacherous vanitiesof the world.

But even the gentle and ordinarily little observant Ruth might trace thekindling of the eye, the knitting of the brow, and the flushings of hispale and furrowed cheek, as the murderous conflicts of the civil warsbecame the themes of the ancient soldier's discourse. There were momentswhen religious submission, and we had almost said religious precepts, werepartially forgotten, as he explained to his attentive son and listeninggrandchild, the nature of the onset, or the quality and dignity of theretreat. 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 winterevening was passed in thus indirectly teaching an art, that was so much atvariance with the mandates of his divine master. The chastened soldier,however, never forgot to close his instruction with a petitionextraordinary, in the customary prayer, that no descendant of his shouldever take life from a being unprepared to die, except in justifiabledefence of his faith, his person, or his lawful rights. It must beadmitted, that a liberal construction of the reserved privileges wouldleave sufficient matter, to exercise the subtlety of one subject to anyextraordinary propensity to arms.

Few opportunities were however offered, in their remote situation andwith their peaceful habits, for the practice of a theory that had beentaught in so many lessons. Indian alarms, as they were termed, were notunfrequent, but, as yet, they had never produced more than terror in thebosoms of the gentle Ruth and her young offspring. It is true, they hadheard of travellers massacred, and of families separated by captivity,but, either by a happy fortune, or by more than ordinary prudence in thesettlers who were established along that immediate frontier, the knifeand the tomahawk had as yet been sparingly used in the colony ofConnecticut. A threatening and dangerous struggle with the Dutch, in theadjoining province of New-Netherlands, had been averted by the foresightand moderation of the rulers of the new plantations; and though awarlike and powerful native chief kept the neighboring colonies ofMassachusetts and Rhode-Island in a state of constant watchfulness, fromthe cause just mentioned the apprehension of danger was greatly weakenedin the breasts of those so remote as the individuals who composed thefamily of our emigrant.

In this quiet manner did years glide by, the surrounding wildernessslowly retreating from the habitations of the Heathcotes, until theyfound themselves in the possession of as many of the comforts of life astheir utter seclusion from the rest of the world could give them reasonto expect.

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

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 andfruitful season was drawing to a close. The harvests of the hay and of thesmaller corns had long been over, and the younger Heathcote with hislaborers had passed a day in depriving the luxuriant maize of its tops, inorder to secure the nutritious blades for fodder, and to admit the sun andair to harden a grain, that is almost considered the staple production ofthe region he inhabited. The veteran Mark had ridden among the workmen,during their light toil, as well to enjoy a sight which promised abundanceto his flocks and herds, as to throw in, on occasion, some wholesomespiritual precept, in which doctrinal subtlety was far more prominent thanthe rules of practice. The hirelings of his son, for he had long sinceyielded the management of the estate to Content, were, without anexception, young men born in the country and long use and much traininghad accustomed them to a blending of religious exercises with most of theemployments of life. They listened, therefore, with respect, nor did animpious smile, or an impatient glance, escape the lightest-minded of theirnumber, during his exhortations, though the homilies of the old man wereneither very brief, nor particularly original. But devotion to the onegreat cause of their existence, austere habits, and unrelaxed industry inkeeping alive a flame of zeal that had been kindled in the otherhemisphere, to burn longest and brightest in this, had interwoven thepractice mentioned with most of the opinions and pleasures of thesemetaphysical, though simple minded people. The toil went on none the lesscheerily for the extraordinary accompaniment, and Content himself, by acertain glimmering of superstition, which appears to be the concomitant ofexcessive religious zeal, was fain to think that the sun shone morebrightly on their labors, and that the earth gave forth more of itsfruits, while these holy sentiments were flowing from the lips of a fatherwhom he piously loved and deeply reverenced.

But when the sun, usually at that season, in the climate of Connecticut, abright unshrouded orb, fell towards the tree-tops which bounded thewestern horizon, the old man began to grow weary with his own well-doing.He therefore finished his discourse with a wholesome admonition to theyouths to complete their tasks before they quitted the field; and, turningthe head of his horse, he rode slowly, and with a musing air, towards thedwellings. It is probable that for some time the thoughts of Mark wereoccupied with the intellectual matter he had just been handling with somuch power; but when his little nag stopped of itself on a small eminence,which the crooked cow-path he was following crossed, his mind yielded tothe impression of more worldly and more sensible objects. As the scene,that drew his contemplations from so many abstract theories to therealities of life, was peculiar to the country, and is more or lessconnected with the subject of our tale, we shall endeavor briefly todescribe it.

A small tributary of the Connecticut divided the view into two nearlyequal parts. The fertile flats that extended on each of its banks for morethan a mile, had been early stripped of their burthen of forest, and theynow lay in placid meadows, or in fields from which the grain of the seasonhad lately disappeared, and over which the plow had already left the marksof recent tillage. The whole of the plain, which ascended gently from therivulet towards the forest, was subdivided in inclosures, by numberlessfences, constructed in the rude but substantial manner of the country.Rails, in which lightness and economy of wood had been but littleconsulted, lying in zigzag lines, like the approaches which the besiegermakes in his cautious advance to the hostile fortress, were piled on eachother, until barriers seven or eight feet in height, were interposed tothe inroads of vicious cattle. In one spot, a large square vacancy hadbeen cut into the forest, and, though numberless stumps of trees darkenedits surface, as indeed they did many of the fields on the flatsthemselves, bright, green grain was sprouting forth, luxuriantly, from therich and virgin soil. High against the side of an adjacent hill, thatmight aspire to be called a low rocky mountain, a similar invasion hadbeen made on the dominion of the trees; but caprice or convenience hadinduced an abandonment of the clearing, after it had ill requited the toilof 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 field, that would, otherwise, havebeen striking from its deep setting in the woods. Much of the surface ofthis opening, too, was now concealed by bushes of what is termed thesecond growth; though, here and there, places appeared, in which theluxuriant white clover, natural to the country, had followed the closegrazing of the flocks. The eyes of Mark were bent, inquiringly, on thisclearing, which, by an air line, might have been half a mile from theplace where his horse had stopped, for the sounds of a dozen differentlytoned cow-bells were brought, on the still air of the evening, to hisears; from among its bushes.

The evidences of civilization were the least equivocal, however, on andaround a natural elevation in the land, which arose so suddenly on thevery 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, andhave disappeared before long tillage and labor, we shall not presume toconjecture; but we have reason to think that they occur much morefrequently in certain parts of our own country, than in any otherfamiliarly known to ordinary travellers; unless perhaps it may be in someof the valleys of Switzerland. The practised veteran had chosen the summitof this flattened cone, for the establishment of that species of militarydefence, which the situation of the country, and the character of theenemy 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 ofan increasing family had required additional accommodation. It stood nearthe verge of the natural declivity, and on that side of the hill whereits base was washed by the rivulet, a rude piazza stretching along thewhole of its front and overhanging the stream. Several large, irregular,and clumsy chimneys, rose out of different parts of the roofs, anotherproof that comfort, rather than taste, had been consulted in thedisposition of the buildings. There were also two or three detachedoffices on the summit of the hill, placed near the dwelling, and atpoints most convenient for their several uses. A stranger might haveremarked that they were so disposed as to form, far as they went, thedifferent sides of a hollow square. Notwithstanding the great length ofthe principal building, and the disposition of the more minute anddetached parts, this desirable formation would not, however, have beenobtained, were it not that two rows of rude constructions in logs, fromwhich the bark had not even been stripped, served to eke out the partsthat were deficient. These primeval edifices were used to contain variousdomestic articles, no less than provisions; and they also furnishednumerous lodging-rooms for the laborers and the inferior dependants ofthe farm: By the aid of a few strong and high gates of hewn timber, thoseparts of the buildings which had not been made to unite in the originalconstruction, were sufficiently connected to oppose so many barriersagainst admission into the inner court.

But the building which was most conspicuous by its position, no less thanby the singularity of its construction, stood on a low, artificial mound,in the centre of the quadrangle. It was high, hexagonal in shape, andcrowned with a roof that came to a point, and from whose peak rose atowering flagstaff. The foundation was of stone; but, at the height of aman above the earth, the sides were made of massive, squared logs, firmlyunited by an ingenious combination of their ends, as well as byperpendicular supporters pinned closely into their sides. In thiscitadel, or block-house, as from its materials it was technically called,there were two different tiers of long, narrow loop-holes, but no regularwindows. The rays of the setting sun, however, glittered on one or twosmall openings in the roof, in which glass had been set, furnishingevidence that the summit of the building was sometimes used for otherpurposes 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 youngtrees, firmly knit together by braces and horizontal pieces of timber, andevidently kept in a state of jealous and complete repair. The air of thewhole of this frontier fortress was neat and comfortable, and, consideringthat 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 thestables. They were surrounded by a vast range of rude but warm sheds,beneath which sheep and horned cattle were usually sheltered from thestorms of the rigorous winters of the climate. The surfaces of themeadows, immediately around the out-buildings, were of a smoother andricher sward, than those in the distance, and the fences were on a farmore artificial, and perhaps durable, though scarcely on a moreserviceable plan. A large orchard of some ten or fifteen years' growth,too, added greatly to the air of improvement, which put this smilingvalley in such strong and pleasing contrast to the endless andnearly-untenanted woods by which it was environed.

Of the interminable forest, it is not necessary to speak. With thesolitary exception on the mountain-side, and of here and there a wind-row,along which the trees had been uprooted, by the furious blasts thatsometimes sweep off acres of our trees in a minute, the eye could find noother object to study in the vast setting of this quiet rural picture, butthe seemingly endless maze of wilderness. The broken surface of the land,however, limited the view to an horizon of no great extent, though the artof man could scarcely devise colors so vivid, or so gay, as those whichwere afforded by the brilliant hues of the foliage. The keen, bitingfrosts, known at the close of a New-England autumn, had already touchedthe broad and fringed leaves of the maples, and the sudden and secretprocess had been wrought upon all the other varieties of the forest,producing that magical effect, which can be nowhere seen, except inregions in which nature is so bountiful and luxuriant in summer, and sosudden and so stern in the change of the seasons.

Over this picture of prosperity and peace, the eye of old Mark Heathcotewandered with a keen degree of worldly prudence. The melancholy sounds ofthe various toned bells, ringing hollow and plaintively among the archesof the woods, gave him reason to believe that the herds of the family werereturning, voluntarily, from their unlimited forest pasturage. Hisgrandson, a fine spirited boy of some fourteen years, was approachingthrough the fields. The youngster drove before him a small flock, whichdomestic necessity compelled the family to keep at great occasional loss,and at a heavy expense of time and trouble; both of which could aloneprotect them from the ravages of the beasts of prey. A species ofhalf-witted serving-lad, whom charity had induced the old man to harboramong his dependants was seen issuing from the woods, nearly in a linewith the neglected clearing on the mountain-side. The latter advanced,shouting and urging before him a drove of colts, as shaggy, as wayward,and nearly as untamed as himself.

"How now, weak one," said the Puritan, with a severe eye, as the two ladsapproached him, with their several charges, from different directions, andnearly at the same instant; "how now, sirrah! dost worry the cattle inthis gait, when the eyes of the prudent are turned from thee? Do as thouwouldst 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 totheir thoughts and their practice. I do not know that an over-driven coltwill 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 thefoals," sullenly returned the lad; "I've called to them in anger, and I'vespoken to them as if they had been my natural kin, and yet neither fairword nor foul tongue will bring them to hearken to advice. There issomething frightful in the woods this very sun-down, master; or colts thatI have driven the summer through, would not be apt to give this unfairtreatment to one they ought to know to be their friend."

"Thy sheep are counted, Mark?" resumed the grandfather, turning towardshis descendant with a less austere, but always an authoritative brow; "thymother hath need of every fleece, to provide covering for thee and otherslike thee; thou knowest, child, that the creatures are few, and ourwinters weary and cold."

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

"Thou hast lost a sheep!--this carelessness will cause thy motherto grieve."

"Grandfather, I have been no idler. Since the last hunt, the flock hathbeen 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 theouter settlements of the colony. The biggest four-footed animal, that lostits hide in the muster, was a thin-ribbed deer, and the stoutest battlegiven, was between wild Whittal Ring, here, and a wood-chuck that kept himat arm's-length, for the better part of an afternoon."

"Thy tale may be true, but it neither finds that which is lost, norcompleteth the number of thy mother's flock. Hast thou ridden carefullythroughout the clearing? It is not long, since I saw the animals grazingin that quarter. What hast thou twisting in thy fingers, in that wastefuland unthankful manner, Whittal?"

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

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

"Growing on the branch of a thorn. Queer fruit this, masters, to be seenwhere young plums ought to ripen!"

"Go, go," interrupted the old man; "thou idlest, and misspendest the timein vain talk. Go, fold thy flock, Mark; and do thou, weak-one, house thycharge with less uproar than is wont. We should remember that the voice isgiven to man, firstly, that he may improve the blessing in thanksgivingsand petitions; secondly, to communicate such gifts as may be imparted tohimself, 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 consciousnessin the Puritan that he had permitted a momentary cloud of selfishness toobscure the brightness of his faith, the party separated. The grandson andthe hireling took their several ways to the folds, while old Mark himselfslowly continued his course towards the dwellings. It was near enough tothe hours of darkness, to render the preparations we have mentionedprudent; still, no urgency called for particular haste, in the return ofthe veteran to the shelter and protection of his own comfortable andsecure abode. He therefore loitered along the path, occasionally stoppingto look into the prospects of the young crops, that were beginning tospring up in readiness for the coming year, and at times bending his gazearound the whole of his limited horizon, like one who had the habit ofexceeding 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 oldman appeared fastened, as by a charm, on some distant and obscure object.Doubt and uncertainty, for many minutes, seemed to mingle in his gaze. Butall hesitation had apparently disappeared, as his lips severed, and hespoke, perhaps unconsciously to himself, aloud.

"It is no deception," were the low words, "but a living and an accountablecreature of the Lord's. Many a day has passed since such a sight hath beenwitnessed in this vale; but my eye greatly deceives me, or yonder comethone ready to ask for hospitality, and, peradventure, for Christian andbrotherly communion."

The sight of the aged emigrant had not deceived him. One, who appeareda wayworn and weary traveller, had indeed ridden out of the forest, at apoint where a path, that was easier to be traced by the blazed treesthat lay along its route, than by any marks on the earth itself, issuedinto the cleared land. The progress of the stranger had, at first, beenso wary and slow, as to bear the manner of exceeding and mysteriouscaution. The blind road, along which he must have ridden not only farbut hard, or night had certainly overtaken him in the woods, led to oneof the distant settlements that lay near to the fertile banks of theConnecticut. Few ever followed its windings, but they who had especialaffairs, or extraordinary communion, in the way of religiousfriendships, with the proprietors of the Wish-Ton-Wish, as, incommemoration of the first bird that had been seen by the emigrants, thevalley of the Heathcotes was called.

Once fairly in view, any doubt or apprehension, that the stranger might atfirst 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 neverceased to watch his movements, from the instant when the other first camewithin view. Before speaking, the stranger, a man whose head was gettinggray, apparently as much with hardship as with time, and one whose greatweight would have proved a grievous burthen, in a long ride, to even abetter-conditioned beast than the ill-favored provincial hack he hadridden, dismounted, and threw the bridle loose upon the drooping neck ofthe animal. The latter, without a moment's delay, and with a greedinessthat denoted long abstinence, profited by its liberty, to crop the herbagewhere it stood.

"I cannot be mistaken, when I suppose that I have at length reached thevalley of the Wish-Ton Wish," the visiter said, touching a soiled andslouched beaver that more than half concealed his features. The questionwas put in an English that bespoke a descent from those who dwell in themidland counties of the mother country, rather than in that intonationwhich is still to be traced, equally in the western portions of Englandand in the eastern states of the Union. Notwithstanding the purity of hisaccent, there was enough in the form of his speech to denote a severecompliance with the fashion of the religionists of the times. He used thatmeasured and methodical tone, which was, singularly enough, believed todistinguish an entire absence of affectation in language.

"Thou hast reached the dwelling of him thou seekest; one who is asubmissive sojourner in the wilderness of the world, and an humbleservitor 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 suspiciousinvestigation.

"Such is the name I bear. A fitting confidence in him who knows so wellhow to change the wilds into the haunts of men, and much suffering, havemade me the master of what thou seest. Whether thou comest to tarry anight, a week, a month, or even for a still longer season, as a brother incare, 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 thegaze, which began to partake a little of the look of recognition, wasstill too earnest and engrossing to admit of verbal reply. On the otherhand, though the old man had scanned the broad and rusty beaver, thecoarse and well-worn doublet, the heavy boots and, in short, the wholeattire of his visiter, in which he saw no vain conformity to idlefashions to condemn, it was evident that personal recollection had not thesmallest influence in quickening his hospitality.

"Thou hast arrived happily," continued the Puritan: "had nightovertaken thee in the forest, unless much practised in the shifts ofour young woodsmen, hunger, frost, and a supperless bed of brush, wouldhave given thee motive to think more of the body than is eitherprofitable or seemly."

The stranger might possibly have known the embarrassment of these severalhardships; for the quick and unconscious glance he threw over his soileddress, should have betrayed some familiarity already, with the privationsto which his host alluded. As neither of them, however, seemed disposed towaste further time on matters of such light moment, the traveller put anarm through the bridle of his horse, and, in obedience to an invitationfrom the owner of the dwelling, they took their way towards the fortifiededifice on the natural mound.

The task of furnishing litter and provender to the jaded beast wasperformed by Whittal Ring under the inspection, and, at times, under theinstructions, of its owner and his host, both of whom appeared to take akind and commendable interest in the comfort of a faithful hack, that hadevidently suffered long and much in the service of its master. When thisduty was discharged, the old man and his unknown guest entered the housetogether; the frank and unpretending hospitality of a country like thatthey were in, rendering suspicion or hesitation qualities that wereunknown to the reception of a man of white blood; more especially if hespoke the language of the island, which was then first sending out itsswarms, to subdue and possess so large a portion of a continent thatnearly divides the earth in moieties.

"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 differentmembers of our simple and secluded family. The kine had yielded theirnightly tribute; the oxen had been released from the yoke, and were nowsecure beneath their sheds; the sheep were in their folds, safe from theassaults of the prowling wolf; and care had been taken to see that everything possessing life was gathered within the particular defences thatwere provided for its security and comfort. But while all this caution wasused in behalf of living things, the utmost indifference prevailed on thesubject of that species of movable property, which, elsewhere, would havebeen guarded with, at least, an equal jealousy. The homely fabrics of thelooms of Ruth lay on their bleaching-ground, to drink in the night-dew;and plows, harrows, carts, saddles, and other similar articles, were leftin situations so exposed, as to prove that the hand of man had occupationsso numerous and so urgent, as to render it inconvenient to bestow laborwhere 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 thoseabove him, in order to learn if any yet lingered without the woodenbarriers. The answer being in the negative, he entered, and drawing-to thesmall but heavy gate, he secured it with bar, bolt, and lock, carefullyand jealously, with his own hand. As this was no more than a nightly andnecessary precaution, the affairs of the family received no interruption.The meal of the hour was soon ended; and conversation, with those lighttoils which are peculiar to the long evenings of the fall and winter infamilies on the frontier, succeeded as fitting employments to close thebusiness of a laborious and well-spent day.

Notwithstanding the entire simplicity which marked the opinions and usagesof the colonists at that period, and the great equality of condition whicheven to this hour distinguishes the particular community of which wewrite, choice and inclination drew some natural distinctions in theordinary intercourse of the inmates of the Heathcote family. A fire sobright and cheerful blazed on an enormous hearth in a sort of upperkitchen, as to render candles or torches unnecessary. Around it wereseated six or seven hardy and athletic young men, some drawing coarsetools carefully through the curvatures of ox-bows, others scraping downthe helves of axes, or perhaps fashioning sticks of birch into homely butconvenient brooms. A demure, side-looking young woman kept her great wheelin motion; while one or two others were passing from room to room, withthe notable and stirring industry of handmaidens, busied in the morefamiliar cares of the household. A door communicated with an inner andsuperior apartment. Here was a smaller but an equally cheerful fire, afloor which had recently been swept, while that without had been freshlysprinkled with river sand; candles of tallow, on a table of cherry-woodfrom the neighboring forest; walls that were wainscoted in the black oakof the country, and a few other articles, of a fashion so antique, and ofornaments so ingenious and rich, as to announce that they had beentransported from beyond sea. Above the mantel were suspended the armorialbearings of the Heathcotes and the Hardings, elaborately emblazoned intent-stitch.

The principal personages of the family were seated around the latterhearth, while a straggler from the other room, of more than usualcuriosity, had placed himself among them, marking the distinction inranks, or rather in situation, merely by the extraordinary care which hetook that none of the scrapings should litter the spotless oaken floor.

Until this period of the evening, the duties of hospitality and theobservances of religion had prevented familiar discourse. But the officesof the housewife were now ended for the night, the handmaidens had allretired to their wheels, and, as the bustle of a busy and more stirringdomestic industry ceased, the cold and self-restrained silence which hadhitherto only been broken by distant and brief observations of courtesy,or by some wholesome allusion to the lost and probationary condition ofman, 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 mustbring tidings from the towns on the river side. Has aught been done by ourcouncillors, at home, in the matter that pertaineth so closely to thewell-being of this colony?"

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

"We will render unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's; and speakreverently of men having authority. I would fain know whether the agentsent by our people hath gained the ears of those who counsel the prince,and obtained that which he sought?"

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

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

"Much as it hath ever stood; by their own ordinances. Winthrop hathreturned, and is the bearer of a Royal Charter, which granteth all therights long claimed and practised. None now dwell under the Crown ofBritain with fewer offensive demands on their consciences, or with lightercalls on their political duties, than the men of Connecticut."

"It is fitting that thanks should be rendered therefor, where thanks aremost due," said the Puritan, folding his hands on his bosom, and sittingfor 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 thePrince to hearken to our wants; or was it an open and manifest token ofhis power?"

"I think it must needs have been the latter," rejoined the visiter, with amanner that grew still more caustic and emphatic. "The bauble, that wasthe visible agent, could not have weighed greatly with one so proudlyseated before the eyes of men."

Until this point in the discourse, Content and Ruth, with theiroffspring, and the two or three other individuals who composed theaudience, had listened with the demure gravity which characterized themanners of the country. The language, united with the ill-concealedsarcasm conveyed by the countenance, no less than the emphasis, of thespeaker, caused them now to raise their eyes, as by a common impulse. Theword "bauble" was audibly and curiously repeated. But the look of coldirony had already passed from the features of the stranger, and it hadgiven place to a stern and fixed austerity, that imparted a character ofgrimness to his hard and sun-burnt visage. Still he betrayed nodisposition to shrink from the subject, but, after regarding, his auditorswith a glance in which pride and suspicion were strongly blended, heresumed the discourse.

"It is known," he added, "that the grandfather of him the good people ofthese settlements have commissioned to bear their wants over sea, lived inthe favor of the man who last sat upon the throne of England; and a rumorgoeth forth, that the Stuart, in a moment of princely condescension, oncedecked the finger of his subject, with a ring wrought in a curiousfashion. 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 andsinful ornaments," observed Mark, while the other paused like one whowished 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 theBay, since it hath finally proved to be a jewel of price," continuedthe stranger. "It is said, in secret, that this ring hath returned tothe finger of a Stuart, and it is openly proclaimed that Connecticuthath a Charter!"

Content and his wife regarded each other in melancholy amazement. Such anevidence of wanton levity and of unworthiness of motive, in one who wasintrusted with the gift of earthly government, pained their simple andupright minds; while old Mark, of still more decided and exaggeratedideas of spiritual perfection, distinctly groaned aloud The stranger tooka sensible pleasure in this testimony of their abhorrence of so gross andso unworthy a venality, though he saw no occasion to heighten its effectby further speech. When his host stood erect, and, in a voice that wasaccustomed to obedience, he called on his family to join, in behalf ofthe reckless ruler of the land of their fathers, in a petition to him whoalone 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 whowished to do pleasure to his entertainers, rather than to obtain thatwhich was asked.

The prayer, though short, was pointed, fervent, and sufficiently personal.The wheels in the outer room ceased their hum, and a general movementdenoted that all there had arisen to join in the office; while one or twoof their number, impelled by deeper piety or stronger interest, drew nearto the open door between the rooms, in order to listen. With this singularbut 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 notyet sufficiently calmed, to return to the examination of temporal things;"one who brought wares from the towns below, a few months since, recitedreasons to fear a movement among the red men."

The subject had not sufficient interest to open the ears of thestranger. He was deaf, or he chose to affect deafness, to theinterrogatory. Laying his two large and weather-worn, though stillmuscular hands, on a visage that was much darkened by exposure, heappeared to shut out the objects of the world, while he communed deeply,and, as would seem by a slight tremor, that shook even his powerfulframe, terribly, with his own thoughts.

"We have many to whom our hearts strongly cling, to heighten the smallestsymptom 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 Irejoice to see, that one who hath journeyed from parts where the minds ofthe savages must be better understood, hath not feared to do it unarmed."

The traveller slowly uncovered his features, and the glance that his eyeshot over the face of the last speaker, was not without a gentle andinterested expression. Instantly recovering his composure, he arose, and,turning to the double leathern sack, which had been borne on the crupperof his nag, and which now lay at no great distance from his seat, he drewa 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 ofman," he said, "I have not neglected the usual precautions of those whoenter the wilderness. Here are weapons that, in steady hands, might easilytake life, or, at need preserve it."

The young Mark drew near with boyish curiosity, and while one fingerventured to touch a lock, as he stole a conscious glance of wrong-doingtowards his mother, he said, with as much of contempt in his air, as theschooling 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 Hartford town, struck the wild-cat on the hillclearing, he sent the bullet from a five-foot, barrel; besides, thisshort-sighted gun would be a dull weapon in a hug against the keen-edgedknife, that the wicked Wampanoag is known to carry."--

"Boy, thy years are few, and thy boldness of speech marvellous," sternlyinterrupted his parent in the second degree.

The stranger manifested no displeasure at the confident language ofthe lad. Encouraging him with a look, which plainly proclaimed thatmartial qualities in no degree lessened the stripling in his favor, heobserved that--

"The youth who is not afraid to think of the fight, or to reason on itschances, will lead to a manhood of spirit and independence. A hundredthousand striplings like this, might have spared Winthrop his jewel, andthe Stuart the shame of yielding to so vain and so trivial a bribe. Butthou mayst also see, child, that had we come to the death-hug, the wickedWampanoag might have found a blade as keen as his own."

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

"Straight-Horns has been against a bush sharper than the thorn!"exclaimed Whittal Ring, who had been at hand, and who watched withchildish admiration the smallest proceedings of the differentindividuals. "A steel for the back of the blade, a few dried leaves andbroken sticks, with such a carver, would soon make roast and broiled ofthe old bell-wether himself. I know that the hair of all my colts issorrel, and I counted five at sun-down, which is just as many as wentloping through the underbrush when I loosened them from the hopples inthe morning; but six-and-thirty backs can never carry seven-and-thirtygrowing fleeces of unsheared wool. Master knows that, for he is a scholarand can count a hundred!"

The allusion to the fate of the lost sheep was so plain, as to admit of nomisinterpretation of the meaning of the witless speaker. Animals of thatclass were of the last importance to the comfort of the settlers, andthere was not probably one within hearing of Whittal Ring, that was at allignorant of the import of his words. Indeed, the loud chuckle and the openand deriding manner with which the lad himself held above his head thehairy fibres that he had snatched from young Mark, allowed of noconcealment, had it been desirable.

"This feeble-gifted youth would hint, that thy knife hath proved its edgeon a wether that is missing from our flock, since the animals went ontheir mountain range, in the morning," said the host, calmly; though evenhe 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 ofselfishness, visit it with their anger?"

"The foot of Christian man never approached the gates of Wish-Ton-Wish tobe turned away in uncharitableness, but that which is freely given shouldnot be taken in licentiousness. From off the hill where my flock is wontto graze, it is easy, through many an opening of the forest, to see theseroofs; and it would have been better that the body should languish, thanthat a grievous sin should be placed on that immortal spirit which isalready too deeply laden, unless thou art far more happy than others ofthe 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 weaklyplaced within thy power. Thou wilt find more there to wonder at, than afew straggling hairs, that the spinner would cast from her as too coarsefor service."

"It is long since I found pleasure in handling the weapons of strife; mayit 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, bycavaliers that rode in the levies of the first Charles, and of hispusillanimous father. There were worldly pride and great vanity, with muchand damning ungodliness, in the wars that I have seen, my children; andyet the carnal man found pleasure in the stirrings of those gracelessdays! Come hither, younker; thou hast often sought to know the manner inwhich the horsemen are wont to lead into the combat, when thebroad-mouthed artillery and pattering leaden hail have cleared a passagefor the struggle of horse to horse, and man to man. Much of thejustification of these combats must depend on the inward spirit, and onthe temper of him that striketh at the life of fellow-sinner; butrighteous Joshua, it is known, contended with the heathen throughout asupernatural day: and therefore always humbly confiding that our cause isjust, I will open to thy young mind the uses of a weapon that hath neverbefore 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 aspiringspirit, as he held out the ponderous weapon in a single hand; "we haveguns that might tame a wolf with greater certainty than any barrel of abore less than my own height. Tell, me grand'ther; at what distance do themounted warriors, you so often name, take their sight?"

But the power of speech appeared suddenly to have deserted the agedveteran. He had interrupted his own discourse, and now, instead ofanswering the interrogatory of the boy, his eye wandered slowly and with alook of painful doubt from the weapon, that he still held before him, tothe countenance of the stranger. The latter continued erect, like onecourting a strict and meaning examination of his person. This dumb-showcould not fail to attract the observation of Content. Rising from hisseat, with that quiet but authoritative manner which is still seen in thedomestic government of the people of the region where he dwelt, hebeckoned to all present to quit the apartment. Ruth and her daughters, thehirelings, the ill-gifted Whittal, and even the reluctant Mark, precededhim to the door, which he closed with respectful care; and then the wholeof the wondering party mingled with those of the outer room, leaving theone they had quitted to the sole possession of the aged chief of thesettlement, and to his still unknown and mysterious guest.

Many anxious, and to those who were excluded seemingly interminableminutes passed, and, the secret interview appeared to draw no nearer itsclose. That deep reverence, which the years, paternity, and character ofthe grandfather had inspired, prevented all from approaching the quarterof the apartment nearest to the room they had left; but a silence, stillas the grave, did all that silence could do, to enlighten their minds in amatter of so much general interest. The deep, smothered sentences of thespeakers were often heard, each dwelling with steadiness and propriety onhis particular theme, but no sound that conveyed meaning to the minds ofthose without passed the envious walls. At length, the voice of old Markbecame more than usually audible; and then Content arose, with a gestureto those around him to imitate his example. The young men threw aside thesubjects of their light employments, the maidens left the wheels which hadnot been turned for many minutes, and the whole party disposed themselvesin the decent and simple attitude of prayer. For the third time thatevening was the voice of the Puritan heard, pouring out his spirit in acommunion with that being on whom it was his practice to repose all hisworldly cares. But, though long accustomed to all the peculiar forms ofutterance by which their father ordinarily expressed his pious emotions,neither Content nor his attentive partner was enabled to decide on thenature of the feeling that was now uppermost. At times, it appeared to bethe language of thanksgiving, and at others it assumed more of theimploring sounds of deprecation and petition; in short, it was so varied,and, though tranquil, so equivocal, if such a term may be applied to soserious a subject, as completely to baffle every conjecture.

Long and weary minutes passed after the voice had entirely ceased, and yetno summons was given to the expecting family, nor did any sound proceedfrom the inner room, which the respectful son was emboldened to construeinto an evidence that he might presume to enter. At length, apprehensionbegan to mingle with conjectures, and then the husband and wife communedapart, in whispers. The misgivings and doubt of the former soon manifestedthemselves in still more apparent forms. He arose, and was seen pacing thewide apartment, gradually approaching nearer to the partition whichseparated the two rooms, evidently prepared to retire beyond the limits ofhearing, the moment he should detect any proofs that his uneasiness waswithout 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 vainlyendeavoring to detect the smallest proof of human existence. Again hereturned to Ruth, and again they consulted, in low voices, as to the stepthat filial duty seemed to require at their hands.

"We were not bidden to withdraw," said his gentle companion; "why notrejoin our parent, now that time has been given to understand the subjectwhich so evidently disturbed his mind?"

Content, at length, yielded to this opinion. With that cautiousdiscretion which distinguishes his people, he motioned to the family tofollow, in order that no unnecessary exclusion should give rise toconjectures, or excite suspicions, for which, after all, thecircumstances might prove no justification. Notwithstanding the subduedmanners of the age and country, curiosity, and perhaps a better feeling,had become so intense, as to cause all present to obey this silentmandate, by moving as swiftly towards the open door as a never-yieldingdecency of demeanor would permit.

Old Mark Heathcote occupied the chair in which he had been left, withthat calm and unbending gravity of eye and features which were thenthought indispensable to a fitting sobriety of spirit. But thestranger had disappeared. There were two or three outlets by which theroom, and even the house, might be quitted, without the knowledge ofthose who had so long waited for admission; and the first impressionled the family to expect the re-appearance of the absent man through oneof these exterior passages. Content, however, read in the expression ofhis father's eye, that the moment of confidence, if it were ever toarrive, had not yet come; and, so admirable and perfect was thedomestic discipline of this family, that the questions which the sondid not see fit to propound, no one of inferior condition, or lesserage, might presume to agitate. With the person of the stranger, everyevidence of his recent visit had also vanished.

Mark missed the weapon that had excited his admiration; Whittal looked invain 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 sleepingapartment of their guest, were gone; and a mild and playful image ofherself, who bore her name no less than most of those features which hadrendered her own youth more than usually attractive, sought, withoutsuccess, a massive silver spur, of curious and antique workmanship, whichshe had been permitted to handle until the moment when the family had beencommanded to withdraw.

The night had now worn later than the hour at which it was usual forpeople of habits so simple to be out of their beds. The grandfatherlighted a taper, and, after bestowing the usual blessing on those aroundhim, with an air as calm as if nothing had occurred, he prepared to retireinto his own room. And yet, matter of interest seemed to linger on hismind. Even on the threshold of the door, he turned, and, for an instant,all expected some explanation of a circumstance which began to wear nolittle of the aspect of an exciting and painful mystery. But their hopeswere raised only to be disappointed.

"My thoughts have not kept the passage of the time," he said. "In whathour 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 andsupport, should not be lightly and unthankfully disregarded. Take thou thebeast I am wont to ride, thyself, Content, and follow the path whichleadeth to the mountain clearing; bring away that which shall meet thineeye, near the first turning of the route toward the river towns. We havegot into the last quarter of the year, and in order that our industry maynot flag, and that all may be stirring with the sun, let the remainder ofthe household seek their rest."

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

"I will be thy companion, husband," Ruth half-whisperingly commenced, sosoon as the little domestic preparations for leaving the fires andsecuring the doors were ended. "I like not that thou shouldst go into theforest alone, at so late an hour of the night."

"One will be with me, there, who never deserteth those who rely on hisprotection. Besides, my Ruth, what is there to apprehend in a wildernesslike this? The beasts have been lately hunted from the hills, and,excepting those who dwell under our own roof, there is not one within along day's ride."

"We know not! Where is the stranger that came within our doors as the sunwas setting?"

"As thou sayest, we know not. My father is not minded to open his lips onthe subject of this traveller, and surely we are not now to learn thelessons of obedience and self-denial."

"It would, notwithstanding, be a great easing to the spirit to hear atleast the name of him who hath eaten of our bread, and joined in ourfamily worship, though he were immediately to pass away for ever frombefore the sight."

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

"And yet there can be little sin in knowing the condition of one whosefortunes and movements can excite neither our envy nor our strife. I wouldthat we had tarried for a closer mingling in the prayers; it was notseemly to desert a guest who, it would appear, had need of an especialup-offering in his behalf."

"Our spirits joined in the asking, though our ears were shut to the matterof his wants. But it will be needful that I should be afoot with the youngmen, in the morning, and a mile of measurement would not reach to theturning, in the path to the river towns. Go with me to the postern, andlook 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 wasleft unbarred. Lighted by a moon that was full, though clouded they passeda gateway between two of the outer buildings, and descended to thepalisadoes. The bars and bolts of the little postern were removed, and ina 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 foresthe was directed to seek.

While the husband was thus proceeding, in obedience to orders that henever hesitated to obey his faithful wife withdrew within the shelter ofthe wooden defences. More in compliance with a precaution that was becomehabitual, than from any present causes of suspicion, she drew a singlebolt and remained at the postern, anxiously awaiting the result of amovement that was as unaccountable as it was extraordinary.

"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 thehuman race. Though new impulses had been given to her naturally kindaffections by the attachments of a wife and mother, her dispositionsuffered no change by marriage. Obedient, disinterested, and devoted tothose she loved, as her parents had known her, so, by the experience ofmany years, had she proved to Content. In the midst of the utmostequanimity of temper and of deportment, her watchful solicitude in behalfof the few who formed the limited circle of her existence, neverslumbered. It dwelt unpretendingly but active in her gentle bosom, like agreat and moving principle of life. Though circumstances had placed heron a remote and exposed frontier, where time had not been given for theseveral customary divisions of employments, she was unchanged in habits,in feelings, and in character. The affluence of her husband had elevatedher above the necessity of burthensome toil; and, while she hadencountered the dangers of the wilderness, and neglected none of theduties of her active station, she had escaped most of those injuriousconsequences which are a little apt to impair the peculiar loveliness ofwoman. Notwithstanding the exposure of a border life, she remainedfeminine, attractive, and singularly youthful.

The reader will readily imagine the state of mind, with which such a beingwatched the distant form of a husband, engaged in a duty like that we havedescribed. Notwithstanding the influence of long habit, the forest wasrarely approached, after night-fall, by the boldest woodsman, without somesecret consciousness that he encountered a positive danger. It was thehour 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 thelight tread of the smallest animal, was apt to conjure images of thevoracious and fire-eyed panther, or perhaps of a lurking biped, which,though more artful, was known to be scarcely less savage. It is true, thathundreds experienced the uneasiness of such sensations, who were neverfated to undergo the realities of the fearful pictures. Still, facts werenot wanting to supply sufficient motive for a grave and reasonableapprehension.

Histories of combats with beasts of prey, and of massacres by roving andlawless Indians, were the moving legends of the border. Thrones might besubverted, and kingdoms lost and won, in distant Europe, and less shouldbe said of the events, by those who dwelt in these woods, than of onescene of peculiar and striking forest incident, that called for theexercise of the stout courage and the keen intelligence of a settler. Sucha tale passed from mouth to mouth, with the eagerness of powerful personalinterest, and many were already transmitted from parent to child, in theform of tradition, until, as in more artificial communities, graverimprobabilities creep into the doubtful pages of history, exaggerationbecame too closely blended with truth, ever again to be separated.

Under the influence of these feelings, and perhaps prompted by hisnever-failing discretion, Content had thrown a well-tried piece over hisshoulder; and when he rose the ascent on which his father had met thestranger, Ruth caught a glimpse of his form, bending on the neck of hishorse, and gliding through the misty light of the hour, resembling one ofthose fancied images of wayward and hard-riding sprites, of which thetales of the eastern continent are so fond of speaking.

Then followed anxious moments, during which neither sight nor hearingcould in the least aid the conjectures of the attentive wife. She listenedwithout breathing, and once or twice she thought the blows of hoofs,falling on the earth harder and quicker than common, might bedistinguished; but it was only as Content mounted the sudden ascent of thehill-side, that he was again seen, for a brief instant, while dashingswiftly into the cover of the woods.

Though Ruth had been familiar with the cares of the frontier, perhaps shehad never known a moment more intensely painful than that, when the formof her husband became blended with the dark trunks of the trees. The timewas to her impatience longer than usual, and under the excitement of afeverish inquietude, that had no definite object, she removed the singlebolt that held the postern closed, and passed entirely without thestockade To her oppressed senses, the palisadoes appeared to place limitsto her vision. Still, weary minute passed after minute, without bringingrelief. During these anxious moments, she became more than usuallyconscious of the insulated situation in which he and all who were dearestto her heart were placed. The feelings of a wife prevailed. Quitting theside of the acclivity, she began to walk slowly along the path her husbandhad taken, until apprehension insensibly urged her into a quickermovement. She had paused only when she stood nearly in the centre of theclearing, on the eminence where her father had halted that evening tocontemplate the growing improvement of his estate.

Here her steps were suddenly arrested, for she thought a form was issuingfrom the forest, at that interesting spot which her eyes had never ceasedto watch. It proved to be no more than the passing shadow of a clouddenser than common, which threw the body of its darkness on the trees, anda portion of its outline on the ground near the margin of the wood. Justat this instant, the recollection that she had incautiously left thepostern open flashed upon her mind, and, with feelings divided betweenhusband and children, she commenced her return, in order to repair aneglect, to which habit, no less than prudence, imparted a high degree ofculpability. The eyes of the mother, for the feelings of that sacredcharacter were now powerfully uppermost, were fastened on the ground, asshe eagerly picked her way along the uneven surface; and, so engrossed washer mind by the omission of duty with which she was severely reproachingherself, that they drank in objects without conveying distinct orintelligible images to her brain.

Notwithstanding the one engrossing thought of the moment, something mether eye that caused even the vacant organ to recoil, and every fibre inher frame to tremble with terror. There was a moment in which deliriumnearly heightened terror to madness. Reflection came only when Ruth hadreached the distance of many feet from the spot where this startlingobject had half-unconsciously crossed her vision. Then for a single and afearful instant she paused, like one who debated on the course she oughtto follow. Maternal love prevailed, and the deer of her own woods scarcelybounds with greater agility, than the mother of the sleeping anddefenceless family now fled towards the dwellings. Panting and breathlessshe gained the postern, which was closed, with hands that performed theiroffice more by instinct than in obedience to thought, and doubly andtrebly barred.

For the first time in some minutes, Ruth now breathed distinctly andwithout pain. She strove to rally her thoughts, in order to deliberate onthe course that prudence and her duty to Content, who was still exposed tothe danger she had herself escaped, prescribed. Her first impulse was togive the established signal that was to recall the laborers from thefield, or to awake the sleepers, in the event of an alarm; but betterreflection told her that such a step might prove fatal to him who balancedin her affections against the rest of the world The struggle in her mindonly ended, as she clearly and unequivocally caught a view of her husband,issuing from the forest, at the very point where he had entered. Thereturn path unfortunately led directly past the spot where such suddenterror had seized her mind. She would have given worlds to have known howto apprize him of a danger with which her own imagination was full,without communicating the warning to other and terrible ears. The nightwas still, and though the distance was considerable, it was not so greatas to render the chances of success desperate. Scarcely knowing what shedid, and yet preserving, by a sort of instinctive prudence, the cautionwhich constant exposure weaves into all our habits, the trembling womanmade the effort.

"Husband! husband!" she cried, commencing plaintively, but her voicerising with the energy of excitement. "Husband, ride swiftly; our littleRuth lyeth in the agony. For her life and thine, ride at thy horse'sspeed. Seek not the stables, but come with all haste to the postern; itshall be open to thee."

This was certainly a fearful summons for a father's ear, and there islittle doubt that, had the feeble powers of Ruth succeeded in conveyingthe words as far as she had wished, they would have produced the desiredeffect. But in vain did she call; her weak tones, though raised on thenotes of the keenest apprehension, could not force their way across sowide a space. And yet, had she reason to think they were not entirelylost, for once her husband paused and seemed to listen, and once hequickened the pace of his horse; though neither of these proofs ofintelligence was followed by any further signs of his having understoodthe alarm.

Content was now upon the hillock itself. If Ruth breathed at all duringits passage, it was more imperceptibly than the gentlest respiration ofthe sleeping infant. But when she saw him trotting with unconscioussecurity along the path on the side next the dwellings, her impatiencebroke through all restraint, and throwing open the postern, she renewedher cries, in a voice that was no longer useless. The clattering of theunshodden hoof was again rapid, and in another minute her husband gallopedunharmed to her side.

"Enter!" said the nearly dizzy wife, seizing the bridle and leading thehorse within the palisadoes. "Enter, husband, for the love of all that isthine; enter, and be thankful."

"What meaneth this terror, Ruth?" demanded Content, in as muchdispleasure, perhaps, as he could manifest to one so gentle, for aweakness betrayed in his own behalf; "is thy confidence in him whose eyenever closeth, and who equally watcheth the life of man and that of thefalling sparrow, lost?"

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

"Why this care? Hast forgotten that the horse will suffer hunger, at thisdistance 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 myfather, 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 noclaim on thee, or thine, and who trespasseth on our peace, no less than onour 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 hathleft its shadow on the fields, or, truly, it may be that the hunt did notdrive the beasts as far from the clearing as we had thought. Come; sincethou wilt cling to my side, lay hand on the bridle of the horse, while Iease him of his burthen."

As Content coolly proceeded to the task he had mentioned, the thoughts ofhis 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!" sheexclaimed, as the carcass of a sheep fell heavily on the ground.

"Ay; and killed with exceeding judgment, if not aptly dressed to ourhands. Mutton will not be wanting for the husking-feast, and the stalledcreature 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 inbutchering, and in setting forth the excellence of his meats, could nothave left an animal hanging from the branch of a sapling, with greaterknowledge of his craft. Thou seest, but a single meal is missing from thecarcass, and that thy fleece is unharmed."

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

"Nor has the tooth of wolf opened the veins of poor Straight-Horns. Herehas been judgment in the slaughtering, as well as prudence inconsumption of the food. The hand that cut so lightly, had intention ofa second visit."

"And our father bid thee seek the creature where it was found! Husband, Ifear some heavy judgment for the sins of the parents, is likely to befallthe children."

"The babes are quietly in their slumbers, and, thus far, little wrong hathbeen done us. I'll cast the halter from the stalled animal ere I sleep,and Straight-Horns shall content us for the husking. We may have muttonless savory, for this evil chance, but the number of thy flock will beunaltered."

"And where is he, who hath mingled in our prayers, and hath eaten of ourbread; he who counselled so long in secret with our father, and who hathnow 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 hewas fain to believe a causeless terror in the bosom of his partner, butwho was induced by this question to drop his head like one that soughtreasons within the repository of his own thoughts. "It mattereth not,Ruth Heathcote; the ordering of the affair is in the hands of a man ofmany years and great experience; should his aged wisdom fail, do we notknow that one even wiser than he, hath us in his keeping? I will returnthe beast to his rack, and when we shall have jointly asked favor of eyesthat 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 awarning of evil."

"I would the stranger had found some other shelter in which to pass hisshort resting season. That he hath made free with my flock, and that hehath administered to his hunger at some cost, when a single asking wouldhave made him welcome to the best that the owner of the Wish-Ton-Wish cancommand, are truths that may not be denied. Still is he mortal man, as agoodly appetite hath proven, even should our belief in Providence so farwaver as to harbor doubts of its unwillingness to suffer beings ofinjustice to wander in our forms and substance. I tell thee, Ruth, thatthe nag will be needed for to-morrow's service, and that our father willgive but ill thanks should we leave it to make a bed on this coldhill-side. Go to thy rest and to thy prayers, trembler; I will close thepostern with all care. Fear not; the stranger is of human wants, and hisagency to do evil must needs be limited by human power."

"I fear none of white blood, nor of Christian parentage: the murderousheathen is in our fields."

"Thou dreamest, Ruth!"

"'Tis not a dream. I have seen the glowing eye-balls of a savage. Sleepwas little like to come over me, when set upon a watch like this. Ithought me that the errand was of unknown character, and that our fatherwas exceedingly aged, and that perchance his senses might be duped, andhow an obedient son ought not to be exposed.--Thou knowest, Heathcote,that I could not look upon the danger of my children's father withindifference, 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 toconceal the flush excited by conscious delinquency. "Though I failed incaution, 'twas for thy safety, Heathcote: But on that hillock, and in thehollow 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 withthe burthen. It cannot be; some creature of the forest hath alarmed thee."

"Ay! creature, formed, fashioned gifted like ourselves, in all but colorof the skin and blessing of the faith."

"This is strange delusion! If there were enemy at hand, would men subtleas those you fear, suffer the master of the dwelling, and truly I may sayit without vain-glory, one as likely as another to struggle stoutly forhis own, to escape, when an ill-timed visit to the woods had delivered himunresisting into their hands? Go, go, good Ruth; thou mayst have seen ablackened log--perchance the frosts have left a fire-fly untouched, or itmay be that some prowling bear has scented out the sweets of thylately-gathered hives."

Ruth again laid her hand firmly on the arm of her husband, who hadwithdrawn another bolt, and, looking him steadily in the face, sheanswered 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 fatedepended on his care, or that the deeply serious, though mild and gentlemanner of his consort, produced some fresher impression on the mind ofContent. Instead of undoing the fastenings of the postern as he hadintended, he deliberately drew its bolts again and paused to think.

"If it produce no other benefit than to quiet thy fears, good Ruth," hesaid, 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 acouple of the people. With stout Eben Dudley and experienced Reuben Ringto back me, my father's horse may surely be stabled."

Ruth contentedly assumed a task that she was quite equal to perform withintelligence and zeal. "Hie thee to the laborers' chambers, for I see alight still burning in the room of those you seek," was the answer shegave to a proposal that at least quieted the intenseness of her fears forhim 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 fromartillery were to crush the timber."

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

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

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

"Quit thy beds quickly, and come forth with the arms appointed for asally."

"That is soon done," answered a stout woodsman, throwing open the door andstanding before Content in the garments he had worn throughout the day."We were just dreaming that the night was not to pass without a summons tothe loops."

"Hast seen aught?"

"Our eyes were not shut, more than those of others; we saw him enter thatno man hath seen depart."

"Come, fellow; Whittal Ring would scarce give wiser speech than thiscunning reply of thine. My wife is at the postern, and it is fit we go torelieve her watch. Thou wilt not forget the horns of powder, since itwould not tell to our credit, were there service for the pieces, and welacking in wherewithal to give them a second discharge."

The hirelings obeyed, and, as little time was necessary to arm those whonever slept without weapons and ammunition within reach of their hands,Content was speedily followed by his dependants. Ruth was found at herpost, but when urged by her husband to declare what had passed in hisabsence, she was compelled to admit that, though the moon had come forthbrighter and clearer from behind the clouds, she had seen nothing to addto her alarm.

"We will then lead the beast to his stall, and close our duty by settinga single watcher for the rest of the night," said the husband. "Reubenshall keep the postern, while Eben and I will have a care for myfather's nag, not forgetting the carcass for the husking-feast. Dosthear, deaf Dudley?--cast the mutton upon the crupper of the beast, andfollow 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 verygenerally prevalent in the country, was also skilful in the craft of thebutcher. "I have brought many a wether to his end, but this is the firstsheep, within all my experience, that hath kept the fleece while aportion of the body has been in the pot! Lie there, poor Straight-Horns,if quiet thou canst be after such strange butchery. Reuben, I paid thee,as the sun rose, a Spanish piece in silver, for the trifle of debt thatlay between us, in behalf of the good turn thou didst the shoes, whichwere none the better for the last hunt in the hills. Hast ever thatpistareen about thee?"

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

"Give it me, lad; in the morning, thou shalt be paid, with usurer'sinterest."

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

They who dwell in the older districts of America, where art and laborhave united for generations to clear the earth of its inequalities, and toremove the vestiges of a state of nature, can form but little idea of thethousand objects that may exist in a clearing, to startle the imaginationof one who has admitted alarm, when seen in the doubtful light of even acloudless moon. Still less can they who have never quitted the old world,and who, having only seen, can only imagine fields smooth as the surfaceof tranquil water, picture the effect produced by those lingeringremnants, which may be likened to so many mouldering monuments of thefallen 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 bytheir fears, fancied each dark and distant stump a savage; and they passedno angle in the high and heavy fences without throwing a jealous glance tosee that some enemy did not lie stretched within its shadows.

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

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

"The horse is truly wanting," said Content: "the man must needs be inexceeding haste, to have ridden into the forest as the night grew deepest,and when the longest summer day would scarce bring a better hack thanthat he rode to another Christian dwelling. There is reason for thisindustry, but it is enough that it concerns us not. We will now seek ourrest, in the certainty that one watcheth our slumbers whose vigilance cannever fail."

Though man could not trust himself to sleep in that country without thesecurity of bars and bolts, we have already had occasion to say thatproperty was guarded with but little care. The stable-door was merelyclosed 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 thatbeset them in forms suited to their several characters. But shelter was athand, and it was speedily regained.

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

"Nought unusual; and yet I like not yonder billet of wood, near to thefence against the knoll. If it were not so plainly a half-burnt log, onemight fancy there is life in it. But when fancy is at work, the sight iskeen. Once or twice I have thought it seemed to be rolling towards thebrook; I am not, even now, certain that when first seen it did not lieeight 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; "butshould it be haunted by a legion of wicked spirits, one may bring it toquiet from the loop at the nearest corner. Stand aside, Madam Heathcote,"for the character and wealth of the proprietors of the valley, gave Ruth aclaim to this term of respect among the laborers: "let me thrust the piecethrough the--stop, there is an especial charm in the gun, which it mightbe sinful to waste on such a creature. It may be no more than somesweet-toothed bear. I will answer for the charge at my own cost, if thouwilt lend me thy musket, Reuben Ring."

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

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

But Content and his companion were not induced to change theirdetermination. Even when within fifty feet of the object, though the moonfell full and brightly upon the surface, its character baffled conjecture.One affirmed it was the end of a charred log, many of which still layscattered about the fields, and the other believed it some cringing animalof the woods. Twice Content raised his piece to tire, and as often did helet it fall, in reluctance to do injury to even a quadruped of whosecharacter he was ignorant. It is more than probable that his lessconsiderate, and but half-obedient companion would have decided thequestion soon after leaving he postern, had not the peculiar contents ofhis musket rendered him delicate of its uses.

"Look to thy weapons," said the former, loosening his own hunting-knife inits 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 theobject of their distrust, before it again betrayed life or motion. Then,indeed, as if further disguise was useless, an Indian lad, of some fifteenyears, rose deliberately to his feet, and stood before them in the sullendignity of a captured warrior. Content hastily seized the stripling by anarm, and followed by Eben, who occasionally quickened the footsteps of theprisoner by an impetus obtained from the breech of his own musket, theyhurriedly 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 itssocket, "we hear no more of this red skin's companions to-night I neverknew an Indian raise his whoop, when a scout had fallen into the hands ofthe enemy."

"This may be true," returned the other, "and yet must a sleepinghousehold be guarded. We may be brought to rely on the overlooking favorof Providence, working with the means of our own manhood, ere the sunshall arise."

Content was a man of few words, but one of exceeding steadiness andresolution in moments of need. He was perfectly aware that an Indianyouth, like him he had captured, would not have been found in that place,and under the circumstances in which he was actually taken, without adesign of sufficient magnitude to justify the hazard. The tender age ofthe stripling, too, forbade the belief that he was unaccompanied. But hesilently agreed with his laboring man that the capture would probablycause the attack, if any such were meditated, to be deferred. He thereforeinstructed his wife to withdraw into her chamber, while he took measuresto defend the dwelling in the last emergency. Without giving anyunnecessary alarm, a measure that would have produced less effect on anenemy without, than the imposing stillness which now reigned within thedefences, he ordered two or three more of the stoutest of his dependantsto be summoned to the palisadoes. A keen scrutiny was made into the stateof all the different outlets of the place; muskets were carefullyexamined; charges were given to be watchful, and regular sentinels werestationed within the shadows of the buildings, at points where, unseenthemselves, they could look out in safety upon the fields.

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

Notwithstanding all this care, morning had nearly dawned before theprudent father and husband sought his pillow. His steadiness however hadprevented the apprehensions, which kept his own eyes and those of hisgentle partner so long open, from attending beyond the few whose serviceswere, in such an emergency, deemed indispensable to safety. Towards thelast watches of the night, only, did the images of the scenes throughwhich they had just passed, become dim and confused, and then both husbandand wife slept soundly, and happily without disturbance.

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

Coriolanus.

The axe and the brand had been early and effectually used, immediatelyaround the dwelling of the Heathcotes. A double object had been gained byremoving most of the vestiges of the forest from the vicinity of thebuildings: the necessary improvements were executed with greater facility,and, a consideration of no small importance, the cover, which the Americansavage is known to seek in his attacks, was thrown to a distance thatgreatly diminished the danger of a surprise.

Favored by the advantage which had been obtained by this foresight, and bythe brilliancy of a night that soon emulated the brightness of day, theduty of Eben Dudley and of his associate on the watch was rendered easy ofaccomplishment. Indeed, so secure did they become towards morning, chieflyon account of the capture of the Indian lad, that more than once, eyes,that should have been differently employed, yielded to the drowsiness ofthe hour and to habit, or were only opened at intervals that left theirowners in some doubt as to the passage of the intermediate time. But nosooner did the signs of day approach, than, agreeably to theirinstructions, the watchers sought their beds, and for an hour or two, theyslept soundly and without fear.

When his father had closed the prayers of the morning, Content, in themidst of the assembled family, communicated as many of the incidents ofthe past night as in his judgment seemed necessary. His discretion limitedthe narrative to the capture of the native youth, and to the manner inwhich he had ordered the watch for the security of the family On thesubject 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 informationwas received. The cold and reserved brow of the Puritan became still morethoughtful; the young men looked grave, but resolute; the maidens of thehousehold grew pale, shuddered, and whispered hurriedly together; whilethe 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 nothingnew to learn, had taught herself to assume the appearance of a resolutionshe was far from feeling.

The first visitation which befell the listeners, after their eager earshad drunk in the intelligence Content so briefly imparted, was a renewalof the spiritual strivings of his father in the form of prayer. Aparticular petition was put up in quest of light on their futureproceedings, for mercy on all men, for a better mind to those who wanderedthrough the wilderness seeking victims of their wrath, for the gifts ofgrace on the heathen, and finally for victory over all their carnalenemies, let them come whence or in what aspect they might.

Fortified by these additional exercises, old Mark next made himself themaster of all the signs and evidences of the approach of danger, by a morerigid and minute inquiry into the visible circumstances of the arrest ofthe young savage. Content received a merited and grateful reward for hisprudence, in the approbation of one whom he still continued to revere witha mental dependence little less than that with which he had leaned on hisfather's wisdom in the days of his childhood.

"Thou hast done well and wisely," said his father; "but more remaineth tobe performed by thy wisdom and fortitude. We have had tidings that theheathen near the Providence Plantations are unquiet, and that they arelending their minds to wicked counsellors. We are not to sleep in too muchsecurity, because a forest journey of a few days lies between theirvillages and our own clearing. Bring forth the captive; I will questionhim on the matter of this visit."

Until now, so much did the fears of all turn towards the enemies who werebelieved to be lurking near, that little thought had been bestowed on theprisoner in the block-house. Content, who well knew the invincibleresolution, no less than the art of an Indian, had forborne to questionhim when taken; for he believed the time to be better suited to vigilantaction, than to interrogatories that the character of the boy was likelyto render perfectly useless. He now proceeded, however, with an interestthat began to quicken as circumstances rendered its indulgence lessunsuitable, to seek his captive, in order to bring him before thesearching ordeal of his father's authority.

The key of the lower door of the block-house hung where it had beendeposited; the ladder was replaced, and Content mounted quietly to theapartment where he had placed his captive. The room was the lowest ofthree that the building contained, all being above that which might betermed its basement. The latter, having up aperture but its door, was adark, hexagonal space, partly filled with such articles as might be neededin the event of an alarm, and which, at the same time, were frequentlyrequired for the purposes of domestic use. In the centre of the area wasa deep well, so fitted and protected by a wall of stone, as to admit ofwater being drawn into the rooms above. The door itself was of massivehewn timber. The squared logs of the upper stories projected a littlebeyond the stone-work of the basement, the second tier of the timberscontaining a few loops out of which missiles might be dischargeddownwards, on any assailants that approached nearer than should be deemedsafe for the security of the basement. As has been stated, the twoprincipal stories were perforated with long narrow slits through thetimber, which answered the double purposes of windows and loop-holes.Though the apartments were so evidently arranged for defence, the plaindomestic, furniture they contained was suited to the wants of the family,should they be driven to the building for refuge. There was also anapartment in the roof, or attic, as already mentioned; but it scarcelyentered into the more important uses of the block-house. Still theadvantage which it received from its elevation was not overlooked. A smallcannon, 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 rightlyconsidered as of the last importance to the safety of the inmates of thedwelling. For some years its muzzle had been seen, by all the stragglingaborigines who visited the valley, frowning through one of those openingswhich were now converted into glazed windows; and there is reason tothink, that the reputation which the little piece of ordnance thussilently obtained, had a powerful agency in so long preserving unmolestedthe peace of the valley.

The word unmolested is perhaps too strong. More than one alarm had in factoccurred, though no positive acts of violence had ever been committedwithin the limits which the Puritan claimed as his own. On only oneoccasion, however, did matters proceed so far that the veteran had beeninduced to take his post in this warlike attic; where, there is littledoubt, had occasion further offered for his services, he would have made asuitable display of his knowledge in the science of gunnery. But thesimple history of the Wish-Ton-Wish had furnished another evidence of apolitical truth, which cannot be too often presented to the attention ofour countrymen; we mean that the best preservative of peace is preparationfor war. In the case before us, the hostile attitude assumed by old Markand his dependants had effected all that was desirable, without proceedingto the extremity of shedding blood. Such peaceful triumphs were far morein accordance with the present principles of the Puritan, than it wouldhave been with the reckless temper which had governed his youth. In thequaint and fanatical humor of the times, he had held a family thanksgivingaround the instrument of their security, and from that moment the roomitself became a favorite resorting-place for the old soldier. Thither heoften mounted, even in the hours of deep night, to indulge in those secretspiritual 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 theuses of the master of the valley. The care and thought of Content hadgradually supplied it with many conveniences that might contribute to thepersonal comfort of his father, while the spirit was engaged in thesemental 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 thesetting Of the sun in its solitude. The aperture originally cut for theexhibition of the grasshopper had been glazed; and no article of comfort,which was once caused to mount the difficult ladder that led to thechamber, was ever seen to descend.

There was something in the austere sanctity of old Mark Heathcote, thatwas favorable to the practices of an anchorite. The youths of the dwellingregarded his unbending brow, and the undisturbed gravity of the eye itshadowed, with a respect akin to awe. Had the genuine benevolence of hischaracter been less tried, or had he mingled in active life at a laterperiod, it might readily have been his fate to have shared in thepersecution which his countrymen heaped on those who were believed to dealwith influences it is thought impious to exercise. Under actualcircumstances, however, the sentiment went no farther than a deep anduniversal reverence, that left its object, and the neglected little pieceof artillery, to the quiet possession of an apartment, to invade whichwould have been deemed an act bordering on sacrilege.

The business of Content, on the occasion which caused his present visit tothe edifice whose history and description we have thought it expedientthus to give at some length, led him no farther than to the lowest of itsmore military apartments. On raising the trap, for the first time afeeling of doubt came over him, as to the propriety of having left the boyso long unsolaced by words of kindness, or by deed of charity. It wasappeased by observing that his concern was awakened in behalf of one whosespirit was quite equal to sustain greater trials.

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

"Come from thy prison, child," said Content, in the tones of mildness;"whatever may have been thy motive in lurking around this dwelling, thouart human, and must know human wants; come forth, and receive food: nonehere will harm thee."

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

"Bring hither yon tether," he said to Whittal Ring, who at the moment waspassing towards the stables; "here is one wild as the most untamed of thycolts. Man is of our nature and of our spirit, let him be of what colorit may have pleased Providence to stamp his features; but he who wouldhave a young savage in his keeping on the morrow, must look sharply tohis limbs to-day."

The lad submitted quietly, until a turn of the rope was passed around oneof his arms; but when Content was fain to complete the work by bringingthe other limb into the same state of subjection, the boy glided from hisgrasp, and cast the fetter from him in disdain. This act of decidedresistance was, however, followed by no effort to escape. The moment hisperson was released from a confinement which he probably considered asimplying distrust of his ability to endure pain with the fortitude of awarrior, the lad turned quietly and proudly to his captor, and, with aneye in which scorn and haughtiness were alike glowing, seemed to defy thefulness of his anger.

"Be it so," resumed the equal-minded Content, "if thou likest not thebonds, which, notwithstanding the pride of man, are often healthful to thebody, 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 goafield, until my father hath had this heathen under examination. The cubis seldom found far from the cunning of the aged bear."

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

We have already said, that this child of the woods might have seen somefifteen years. Though he had shot upwards like a vigorous and thriftyplant, and with the freedom of a thriving sapling in his native forests,rearing its branches towards the light, his stature had not yet reachedthat of man. In height, form, and attitudes, he was a model of active,natural, and graceful boyhood. But, while his limbs were so fair intheir proportions, they were scarcely muscular; still, every movementexhibited a freedom and ease which announced the grace of childhood,without the smallest evidence of that restraint which creeps into ourair as the factitious feelings of later life begin to assert theirinfluence. The smooth, rounded trunk of the mountain ash is not moreupright and free from blemish, than was the figure of the boy, who movedinto the curious circle that opened for his entrance and closed againsthis retreat, with the steadiness of one who came to bestow instead ofappearing to receive judgment.

"I will question him," said old Mark Heathcote, attentively regarding thekeen and settled eye that met his long, stern gaze as steadily as a lessintelligent creature of the woods would return the look of man. "I willquestion him; and perchance fear will wring from his lips a confession ofthe 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 achange of feature."

"It is then meet that we commence by asking him, who hath the secret toopen all hearts, to be our assistant." The Puritan then raised his voicein a short and exceedingly particular petition, in which he implored theRuler of the Universe to interpret his meaning, in the forthcomingexamination, in a manner that, had his request been granted, would havesavored not a little of the miraculous. With this preparation, heproceeded directly to his task. But neither questions, signs, nor prayer,produced the slightest visible effect. The boy gazed at the rigid andaustere countenance of his interrogator, while the words were issuing fromhis lips; but, the instant they ceased, his searching and quick eye rolledover the different curious faces by which he was hemmed in, as if hetrusted more to the sense of sight than that of hearing, for theinformation he naturally sought concerning his future lot. It was foundimpossible to obtain from him gesture or sound that should betray eitherthe purport of his questionable visit, his own personal appellation, orthat of his tribe.

"I have been among the red skins of the Providence Plantations," EbenDudley at length ventured to observe; "and their language, though but acrooked and irrational jargon, is not unknown to me. With the leave of allpresent," he continued regarding the Puritan in a manner to betray thatthis general term meant him alone, "with the leave of all present, I willput 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 andguttural sounds, which, notwithstanding they entirely failed of theireffect, he stoutly maintained were the ordinary terms of salutation amongthe people to whom the prisoner was supposed to belong.

"I know him to be a Narragansett," continued Eben, reddening with vexationat his defeat, and throwing a glance of no peculiar amity at the youth whohad so palpably refuted his claim to skill in the Indian tongues; "you seehe hath the shells of the sea-side worked into the bordering of hismoccasons; and besides this sign, which is certain as that night hath itsstars, he beareth the look of a chief that was slain by the Pequods, atthe wish of us Christians, after an affair in which, whether it was welldone 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 somehe was known as the Leaping Panther, for he was a man of an extraordinaryjump; and others again used to style him Pepperage, since there was asaying that neither bullet nor sword could enter his body: though thatwas 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 withconfidence, satisfied that he had finally produced a sufficiently sonorousappellative and a perfectly lucid etymology. But criticism was divertedfrom its aim by the action of the prisoner, as these equivocal soundsstruck his ear. Ruth recoiled, and clasped her little namesake closer toher side, when she saw the dazzling brightness of his glowing eyes, andthe sudden and expressive dilation of his nostrils. For a moment, his lipswere compressed with more than the usual force of Indian gravity, and thenthey slightly severed. A low, soft, and as even the startled matron wasobliged to confess, a plaintive sound issued from between them, repeatingmournfully--

"Miantonimoh!"

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

"The child mourneth for its parent," exclaimed the sensitive mother. "Thehand 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 onewho might have enticed him still deeper into the bond of the heathen, andhither hath he been led in order to be placed upon the straight and narrowpath. He shall become a dweller among mine, and we will strive against theevil of his mind until instruction shall prevail. Let him be fed andnurtured, equally with the things of life and the things of the world; forwho knoweth that which is designed in his behalf?"

If there were more of faith than of rational conclusion in this opinionof the old Puritan, there was no external evidence to contradict it. Whilethe examination of the boy was going on in the dwelling, a keen scrutinyhad taken place in the out-buildings, and in the adjacent fields. Thoseengaged in this duty soon returned, to say that not the smallest trace ofan ambush was visible about the place; and as the captive himself had noweapons of hostility, even Ruth began to hope that the mysteriousconceptions of her father on the subject were not entirely delusive. Thecaptive was now fed, and old Mark was on the point of making a properbeginning in the task he had so gladly assumed, by an up-offering ofthanks, when Whittal Ring broke rudely into the room, and disturbed thesolemnity of his preparations, by a sudden and boisterous outcry.

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

"There is danger at hand!" exclaimed the sensitive Ruth. "Husband, thewarning was timely."

"Here are truly some riding from the forest, and drawing nigh to thedwelling; but as they are seemingly men of our kind and faith, we haveneed rather of rejoicing than terror. They bear the air of messengers fromthe River."

Mark Heathcote listened with surprise, and perhaps with a momentaryuneasiness; but all emotion passed away on the instant, for one sodisciplined in mind rarely permitted any outward exposure of his secretthoughts. The Puritan calmly issued an order to replace the prisoner inthe block-house, assigning the upper of the two principal floors for hiskeeping; and then he prepared himself to receive guests were little wontto disturb the quiet of his secluded valley. He was still in the act ofgiving forth the necessary mandates, when the tramp of horses was heard inthe court, and he was summoned to the door to greet his unknown visiters.

"We have reached Wish-Ton-Wish, and the dwelling of Captain MarkHeathcote," said one, who appeared, by his air and better attire, to bethe principal of four that composed the party.

"By the favor of Providence; I call myself the unworthy owner of thisplace of refuge."

"Then a Subject so loyal, and a man who hath so long proved himselffaithful in the wilderness, will not turn from his door the agents of hisAnointed Master."

"There is one greater than any of earth, who hath taught us to leave thelatch 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, theyentered the dwelling.

While the maidens of Ruth were preparing a repast suited to the hour andto the quality of the guests, Mark and his son had abundant opportunity toexamine the appearance of the strangers. They were men who seemed to wearvisages peculiarly adapted to the characters of their entertainers beingin truth so singularly demure and grave in aspect, as to excite somesuspicion of their being newly-converted zealots to the mortifying customsof the Colony. Notwithstanding their extraordinary gravity, and contraryto the usages of those regions, too, they bore about their persons certainevidence of being used to the fashions of the other hemisphere. Thepistols attached to their saddle-bows, and other accoutrements of awarlike aspect, would perhaps have attracted no observation, had they notbeen accompanied by a fashion in the doublet, the hat, and the boot, thatdenoted a greater intercourse with the mother country, than was usualamong the less sophisticated natives of those regions. None traversed theforests without the means of defence but, on the other hand, few wore thehostile implements with so much of a worldly air, or with so many minorparticularities of some recent caprice in fashion. As they had howeverannounced themselves to be officers of the King, they, who of necessitymust be chiefly concerned in the object of their visit, patiently awaitedthe pleasure of the strangers, to learn why duty had called them so farfrom all the more ordinary haunts of men: for, like the native owners ofthe soil, the self-restrained religionists appeared to reckon anindiscreet haste in any thing, among the more unmanly weaknesses. Nothingfor the first half-hour of their visit escaped the guarded lips of menevidently well skilled in their present duty, which might lead to a clueof its purport. The morning meal passed almost without discourse, and oneof the party had arisen with the professed object of looking to theirsteeds, before he, who seemed the chief, led the conversation to asubject, that by its political bearing might, in some degree, be supposedto have a remote connexion with the principal object of his journey tothat sequestered valley.

"Have the tidings of the gracious boon that hath lately flowed from thefavor of the King, reached this distant settlement?" asked the principalpersonage, 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 aglance of the eye it his son and daughter, together with the others inhearing, is if to admonish them to be prudent.

"I speak of the Royal Charter by which the people on the banks of theConnecticut, and they of the Colony of New-Haven, are henceforth permittedto unite in government; granting them liberty of conscience, and greatfreedom 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. Therealm is finally freed from the abuses of usurpers, and power now restethin 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 itsuses," rejoined Mark, somewhat drily.

"It is a merry Prince! and one but little given to the study and exercisesof his martyred father; but he hath great cunning in discourse, and fewaround his dread person have keener wit or more ready tongue."

Mark bowed his head in silence, seemingly little disposed to push thediscussion of his earthly master's qualities to a conclusion that mightprove offensive to so loyal an admirer. One inclining to suspicion wouldhave 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 begrateful to his host. He acquiesced however in the wishes of the Puritan,though whether understandingly, or without design, it would have beendifficult to say and submitted to change the discourse.

"It is likely, by thy presence, that tidings have reached the Coloniesfrom home," said Content, who understood, by the severe and reservedexpression of his father's features, that it was a fitting time for him tointerpose.

"There is one arrived in the Bay, within the month, by means of a King'sfrigate; but no trader hath yet passed between the countries, except theship which maketh the annual voyage from Bristol to Boston."

"And he who hath arrived--doth he come in authority?" demanded Mark; "oris he merely another servant of the Lord, seeking to rear his tabernaclein the wilderness?"

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

"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 Crowndeliberately and now openly fastened on the master of Wish-Ton-Wish, whilethe latter was reading the instrument that was placed before his eyes,there was no evidence of uneasiness to be detected in the unmoved featuresof the latter. Mark Heathcote had too long schooled his passions, tosuffer an unseemly manifestation of surprise to escape him; and he was bynature a man of far too much nerve, to betray alarm at any triflingexhibition of danger. Returning the parchment to the other, he said withunmoved calmness to his son--

"We must open wide the doors of Wish-Ton-Wish. Here is one charged withauthority to look into the secrets of all the dwellings of the colony."Then, turning with dignity to the agent of the Crown, he added, "Thouhadst better commence thy duty in season, for we are many and occupymuch space."

The face of the stranger flushed a little, it might have been with shamefor the vocation in which he had come so far, or it might have been inresentment at so direct a hint that the sooner his disagreeable officeshould be ended, the better it would please his host. Still, he betrayedno intention of shrinking from its performance. On the contrary,discarding somewhat of that subdued manner which he had probably thoughtit politic to assume, while sounding the opinions of one so rigid, hebroke out rather suddenly in the exhibition of a humor somewhat bettersuited 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. CaptainHeathcote has been a soldier, and he knows how to excuse a traveller'sfreedom. Surely one who has tasted of the pleasures of the camp, mustweary at times of this sylvan life!"

"The stedfast in faith weary not, though the road be long and thewayfaring grievous."

"Hum--'tis pity that the journeying between merry England and theseColonies is not more brisk. I do not presume to instruct a gentleman whois my senior, and peradventure my better; but opportunity is everything,in a man's fortunes. It were charity to let you know, worthy sir, thatopinions have changed at home: it is full a twelvemonth since I have hearda line of the Psalms, or a verse of St. Paul quoted, in discourse; atleast by men who are at all esteemed for their discretion."

"This change in the fashion of speech may better suit thy earthly than thyheavenly master," said Mark Heathcote, sternly."Well, well, that peace may exist between us, we will not bandy wordsabout a text more or less, if we may escape the sermon," rejoined thestranger, no longer affecting restraint, but laughing with sufficientfreedom at his own conceit; a species of enjoyment in which his companionsmingled with great good-will, and without much deference to the humor ofthose under whose roof they found themselves.

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

"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 remindthe other, that though he bore the commission of the Stuart, he was in anextremity of his Empire, where even the authority of a King lost some ofits 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 weto assemble the household in one apartment. The government at homewould be glad to hear something of the quality of its lieges in thisdistant quarter. Thou hast doubtless a bell to summon the flock atstated periods."

"Our people are yet near the dwelling," returned Content: "if it be thypleasure, none shall be absent from the search."

Gathering from the eye of the other that he was serious in this wish, thequiet 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 summoningfamilies to their homes, and which are alike used as the signals ofpeaceful recall, or of alarm. The sound soon brought all within hearing tothe court, whither the Puritan and his unpleasant guests now repaired asto the spot best suited to the purposes of the latter.

"Hallam," said the principal personage of the four visiters, addressinghim who might once have been, if he were not still, some subaltern in theforces of the Crown, for he was attired in a manner that bespoke him but ahalf-disguised dragoon, "I leave thee to entertain this goodly assemblage.Thou mayst pass the time in discoursing on the vanities of the world, ofwhich I believe few are better qualified to speak understandingly thanthyself, or a few words of admonition to hold fast to the faith would comewith fitting weight from thy lips. But look to it, that none of thy flockwander; for here must every creature of them remain, stationary as theindiscreet partner of Lot, till I have cast an eye into all the cunningplaces of their abode. So set wit at work, and show thy breeding as anentertainer."

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

When Mark Heathcote saw that the man who had so rudely broken in upon thepeaceful habits of his family was ready to proceed, he advanced steadilyin his front, like one who boldly invited inquiry, and by a grave gesturedesired him to follow. The stranger, perhaps as much from habit as fromany settled design, first cast a free glance around at the bevy offluttered maidens, leered even upon the modest and meek-eyed Ruth herself,and then took the direction indicated by him who had so unhesitatinglyassumed the office of a guide.

The object of this examination still remained a secret between those whomade it, and the Puritan, who had probably found its motive in the writtenwarranty which had been submitted to his inspection. That it proceededfrom fitting authority, none might doubt; and that it was in some mannerconnected with the events that were known to have wrought so sudden andso great a change in the government of the mother country, all believedprobable. Notwithstanding the seeming mystery of the procedure, the searchwas not the less rigid. Few habitations of any size or pretension wereerected in those times, which did not contain certain secret places, wherevaluables and even persons might be concealed, at need. The strangersdisplayed great familiarity with the nature and ordinary positions ofthese private recesses. Not a chest, a closet, or even a drawer of size,escaped their vigilance; nor was there a plank that sounded hollow, butthe master of the valley was called on to explain the cause. In one or twoinstances, boards were wrested violently from their fastenings, and thecavities beneath were explored, with a wariness that increased as theinvestigation proceeded without success.

The strangers appeared irritated by their failure. An hour passed in thekeenest scrutiny, and nothing had transpired which brought them any nearerto their object. That they had commenced the search with more than usuallyconfident anticipations of a favorable result, might have been gatheredfrom the boldness of tone assumed by their chief, and the pointedpersonal allusions in which, from time to time, he indulged, often toofreely, and always at some expense to the loyalty of the Heathcotes. Butwhen he had completed the circuit of the buildings, having entered allparts 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, whichhe had hitherto managed to maintain in the midst of all his levity.

"Hast seen nothing, Mr. Hallam?" he demanded of the individual left onwatch, as they crossed the court in retiring from the last of theout-buildings; "or have those traces which led us to this distantsettlement proved false? Captain Heathcote, you have seen that we come notwithout sufficient warranty, and it is in my power to say we come notwithout sufficient----"

Checking himself as if about to utter more than was prudent, he suddenlycast 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, thefamily may fly for refuge."

"Ah! these citadels are not unknown to me. I have met with others duringmy journey, but none so formidable or so military as this. It hath asoldier 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 ofthis edifice. Content unhesitatingly threw open its door, and invitedhim 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 carrythis tower without artillery Had thy spies given notice of our approach,Captain Heathcote, the entrance might have been more difficult than we nowfind 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 forestair from an upper room."

"You will find the apartment above, like this below, merely provided forthe security of the unoffending dwellers of the habitations," saidContent; while he quietly arranged the ladder before the trap, and thenled the way himself to the floor above.

"Here have we loops for the musketoons," cried the stranger, looking abouthim, understandingly, "and reasonable defences against shot. Thou hast notforgotten thy art, Captain Heathcote, and I consider myself fortunate inhaving 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 ofhousehold gear in a place so evidently equipped for war?"

"Thou forgettest that women and children may be driven to this block for aresidence," replied Content. "It would show little discretion to neglectmatters that might be useful to their wants."

"Is there trouble with the savages?" demanded the stranger, a littlequickly; "the gossips of the Colony bade us fear nothing on that head."

"One cannot say at what hour creatures trained in their wild natures maychoose to rise. The dwellers on the borders therefore never neglect afitting caution."

"Hist!" interrupted the stranger; "I hear a footstep above. Ha! the scentwill prove true at last! Hilloa, Master Hallam!" he cried from one of theloops, "let thy statues of salt dissolve, and come hither to the tower.Here is work for a regiment; for well do we know the nature of, that weare to deal with."

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

"Now, worthy lieges of a gracious master," said the leader, when heperceived himself backed by all his armed followers, and speaking with theair of a man flushed with success, "now quickly provide the means ofmounting to the upper story. I have thrice heard the tread of man, movingacross that floor; though it hath been light and wary, the planks aretell-tales, and have not had their schooling."

Content heard the request, which was uttered sufficiently in the manner ofan order, perfectly unmoved. Without betraying either hesitation orconcern, he disposed himself to comply. Drawing the light ladder throughthe trap below, he placed it against the one above him, and ascending heraised the door. He then returned to the floor beneath, making a quietgesture to imply that they who chose might mount. But the strangersregarded each other with very visible doubts. Neither of the inferiorsseemed disposed to precede his chief, and the latter evidently hesitatedas 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?" heasked.

"None. Thou wilt find the ladder secure, and of no difficult height. It isintended for the use of women and children."

"Ay," muttered the officer, "but your women and children are not calledupon to confront the devil in a human form. Fellows, are thy weapons inserviceable condition? Here may be need of spirit, ere we get our--Hist!by the Divine Right of our Gracious Master! there is truly one stirringabove. Harkee, my friend; thou knowest the road so well, we will choose tofollow thy conduct."

Content, who seldom permitted ordinary events to disturb the equanimity ofhis temper, quietly assented, and led the way up the ladder, like one whosaw no ground for apprehension in the undertaking. The agent of the crownsprang after him, taking care to keep as near as possible to the person ofhis leader, and calling to his inferiors to lose no time in backing himwith their support. The whole mounted through the trap, with an alacritynothing short of that with which they would have pressed through adangerous breach; nor did either of the four take time to survey thelodgment he had made, until the whole party was standing in array, withhands grasping the handles of their pistols, or seeking as it wereinstinctively 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 hesaid 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 quaintold gentleman below, and to our own good wisdom. If thou doubtest of ourright to look into thy very hearts, warranty for that we do can beforthcoming. King Charles hath little cause to be tender of his mercies tothe dwellers of these Colonies, who lent but too willing ears to thewhinings and hypocrisies of the wolves in sheeps' clothing, of whom oldEngland hath now so happily gotten rid. Thy buildings shall again berummaged from the bricks of the chimney-tops to the corner-stone in thycellars, unless deceit and rebellious cunning shall be abandoned, and thetruth proclaimed with the openness and fairness of bold-speakingEnglishmen."

"I know not what is called the fairness of bold-speaking Englishmen, sincefairness of speech is not a quality of one people, or of one land; butwell I do know that deceit is sinful, and little of it, I humbly trust, ispractised in this settlement. I am ignorant of what is sought, andtherefore it cannot be that I meditate treachery."

"Thou hearest, Hallam; he reasoneth on a matter that toucheth the peaceand safety of the King!" cried the other, his arrogance of mannerincreasing with the anger of disappointment. "But why is this dark-skinnedboy a prisoner? dost dare to constitute thyself a sovereign over thenatives of this continent, and affect to have shackles and dungeons forsuch 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 anerrand of different interest, yet, as one trusted in a matter of moment, Itake upon me the office of protecting every oppressed subject of theCrown. There may grow discoveries out of this practice, Hallam, fit to gobefore the Council itself."

"Thou wilt find but little here, worthy of the time and attention of thoseburthened with the care of a nation," returned Content. "The youthfulheathen was found lurking near our habitations, the past night; and he iskept where thou seest, that he may not carry the tidings of our conditionto his people, who are doubtless outlying in the forest, waiting for thefit 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 founddistant from the warriors of his tribe; and that the more especially, ashe was taken in the commission of an ambush."

"I hope thy people are not without good provision of arms, and othersufficient muniments of resistance. I trust the palisadoes are firm, andthe posterns ingeniously defended."

"We look with a diligent eye to our safety, for it is well known to usdwellers on the borders that there is little security but in untiringwatchfulness. The young men were at the gates until the morning, and wedid 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 thenumber and purposes of those by whom we are environed, had not thy visitcalled us to other duties."

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

The attendants, though men of sufficient spirit in open war, and when itwas to be exercised in a fashion to which they were accustomed, had, likeother mortals, a wholesome deference for unknown and terrific-lookingdanger. It is a well-known truth, and one that has been proved by theexperience of two centuries, that while the European soldier has ever beenreadiest to have recourse to the assistance of the terrible warrior of theAmerican forest, he has, in nearly every instance, when retaliation oraccident has made him the object instead of the spectator of the ruthlessnature of his warfare, betrayed the most salutary, and frequently the mostabject and ludicrous apprehension of the prowess of his ally. WhileContent therefore looked so steadily, though still seriously, at thepeculiar danger in which he was placed, the four strangers seemingly sawall of its horrors without any of the known means of avoiding them. Theirchief quickly abandoned the insolence of office, and the tone ofdisappointment, for a mien of greater courtesy; and, as policy is oftenseen suddenly to change the sentiments of even more pretending personages,when interests assume a new aspect, so did his language rapidly take acharacter of conciliation and courtesy.

The handmaidens were no longer leered at; the mistress of the dwelling wastreated with marked deference; and the air of deep respect with which eventhe principal of the party addressed the aged Puritan, bordered on anexhibition of commendable reverence. Something was said, in the way ofapology, for the disagreeable obligations of duty, and of a differencebetween a manner that was assumed to answer secret purposes, and thatwhich nature and a sense of right would dictate: but neither Mark nor hisson appeared to have sufficient interest in the motives of their visiters,to put them to the trouble of repeating explanations that were as awkwardto 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 ofthoroughly examining the woods. The dwelling was accordingly intrusted,under the orders of the Puritan, to the keeping of about half thelaborers, assisted by the Europeans, who clung with instinctiveattachment to the possession of the block-house; their leader repeatedlyand rightly enough declaring that though ready at all times to risk lifeon a plain, he had an unconquerable distaste to putting it in jeopardy ina thicket. Attended by Eben Dudley, Reuben Ring, and two other stoutyouths, all well though lightly armed, Content then left the palisadoes,and took his way towards the forest. They entered the woods at thenearest point, always marching with the caution and vigilance that asense of the true nature of the risk they ran would inspire, and muchpractice only could properly direct.

The manner of the search was as simple as it was likely to proveeffectual. The scouts commenced a circuit around the clearing, extendingtheir line as far as might be done without cutting off support, and eachman lending his senses attentively to the signs of the trail, or of thelairs, of those dangerous enemies, who they had reason to think wereoutlying in their neighborhood. But, like the recent search in thebuildings, the scouting was for a long time attended by no results. Manyweary miles were passed slowly over, and more than half their task wasended, and no sign of being having life was met, except the very visibletrail of their four guests, and the tracks of a single horse along thepath leading to the settlements from the quarter by which the visiter ofthe previous night had been known to approach. No comments were made byany 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 soonafter met their ears, caused them to assemble in a body at the spot whencethe summons had proceeded.

"Here are signs of one passing from the clearing," said the quick-eyedwoodsman, "and of one too that is not numbered among the family ofWish-Ton-Wish; since his beast hath had a shodden hoof, a mark whichbelongeth to no animal of ours."

"We will follow," said Content, immediately striking in upon a stragglingtrail, that by many unequivocal signs had been left by some animal whichhad passed that way not many hours before. Their search, however, soongrew to a close. Ere they had gone any great distance, they came upon thehalf-demolished carcass of a dead horse. There was no mistaking theproprietor of this unfortunate animal. Though some beast, or rather beastsof prey, had fed plentifully on the body, which was still fresh and hadscarcely yet done bleeding, it was plain, by the remains of the tornequipments, as well as by the color and size of the animal, that it was noother than the hack ridden by the unknown and mysterious guest, who, aftersharing in the worship and in the evening meal of the family of theWish-Ton-Wish, had so strangely and so suddenly disappeared. The leathernsack, 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 whatwas left, sufficiently served to identify the animal.

"Here has been the tooth of wolf," said Eben Dudley, stooping toexamine into the nature of a ragged wound in the neck; "and here, too,has been cut of knife; but whether by the hand of a red skin, itexceedeth my art to say."

Each individual of the party now bent curiously over the wound; but theresults of their inquiries went no further than to prove that it wasundeniably the horse of the stranger, that had forfeited its life. To thefate of its master, however there was not the slightest clue. Abandoningthe investigation, after a long and fruitless examination, they proceededto finish the circuit of the clearing. Night had approached ere thefatiguing task was accomplished. As Ruth stood at the postern waitinganxiously 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 thepainful doubts, with which, as a tender and sensitive mother, she had beendistressed throughout the day.

"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 situationsto acquire such knowledge, readily becomes the master of most of thatpeculiar skill for which the North American Indian is so remarkable, andwhich enables him, among other things, to detect the signs of a foresttrail, with a quickness and an accuracy of intelligence that amount nearlyto an instinct. The fears of the family were therefore greatly quieted bythe reports of the scouts, all of whom agreed in the opinion that no partyof savages, that could be at all dangerous to a force like their own, waslying near the valley; and some of whom, the loudest of which number beingstout Eben Dudley, boldly offered to answer for the security of those whodepended on their vigilance, with their own lives. These assurances had,beyond a doubt, a soothing influence on the apprehensions of Ruth and herhandmaidens; but they somewhat failed of their effect, with thoseunwelcome visiters who still continued to cumber Wish-Ton-Wish with theirpresence. Though they had evidently abandoned all ideas connected with theoriginal object of their visit, they spoke not of departure. On thecontrary as night approached, their chief entered into council with oldMark Heathcote, and made certain propositions for the security of hisdwelling, which the Puritan saw no reason to oppose.

A regular watch was, in consequence, set, and maintained till morning, atthe palisadoes. The different members of the family retired to their usualplaces of rest, tranquil in appearance, if not in entire confidence ofpeace; and the military messengers took post in the lower of the twofighting apartments of the citadel. With this simple, and to the strangersparticularly satisfactory arrangement, the hours of darkness passed awayin quiet; morning returning to the secluded valley, as it had so oftendone before, with its loveliness unimpaired by violence or tumult.

In the same peaceful manner did the sun set successively three severaltimes, and as often did it arise on the abode of the Heathcotes, withoutfurther sign of danger, or motive of alarm. With the passage of time, theagents of the Stuart gradually regained their confidence. Still they neverneglected to withdraw within the protection of the block house with theretiring light; a post which the subordinate named Hallam, more than oncegravely observed, they were, by their disciplined and military habits,singularly qualified to maintain. Though the Puritan secretly chafed underthis protracted visit, habitual self-denial, and a manner so long subdued,enabled him to conceal his disgust. For the first two days after thealarm, the deportment of his guests was unexceptionable. All theirfaculties appeared to be engrossed with keen and anxious watchings of theforest, out of which it would seem they expected momentarily to see issuea band of ferocious and ruthless savages: but symptoms of returning levitybegan 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 madetheir appearance in the settlement, that the man called Hallam was seenstrolling, for the first time, through the postern so often named, andtaking a direction which led towards the out-buildings. His air was lessdistrustful than it had been for many a weary hour, and his stepproportionably confident and assuming. Instead of wearing, as he had beenwont, a pair of heavy horseman's pistols at his girdle, he had even laidaside his broadsword, and appeared more in the guise of one who sought hispersonal ease, than in that cumbersome and martial attire which all of hisparty, until now, had deemed it prudent to maintain. He cast his glancecursorily over the fields of the Heathcotes, as they glowed under the softlight of a setting sun; nor did his eye even refuse to wander vacantlyalong the outline of that forest, which his imagination had so lately beenpeopling with beings of a fierce and ruthless nature.

The hour was one when rustic economy brings the labors of the day to aclose. 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 theinclosures, occasionally rising on the notes of a spiritual song, and asoften sinking to a nearly inaudible hum, as she extracted from a favoriteanimal liberal portions of its nightly tribute to the dairy of hermistress. To that inclosure the stranger, as it were by accident, sufferedhis sauntering footsteps to stroll, seemingly as much in admiration of thesleek herd as of any other of its comely tenants.

"From what thrush hast taken lessons, my pretty maid, that I mistook thynotes for one of the sweetest songsters of thy woods?" he asked, trustinghis 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 oneamong them which has most to say, does it like those who are calledgentlemen, when they set wit to work to please the ear of simplecountry 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 ofthe harmony of all other forest songsters; and yet I see littleresemblance to the honest language of a soldier, in its manner ofutterance."

"It speaketh without much meaning; and oftener to cheat the ear, than inhonest reason."

"Thou forgettest that which I told thee in the morning, child. It wouldseem that they who named thee, have no great cause to exult in theirjudgment of character, since Unbelief would better describe thydisposition, than Faith."

"It may be, that they who named me little knew how great must becredulity, to give ear to all I have been required to credit."

"Thou canst have no difficulty in admitting that thou art comely, sincethe eye itself will support thy belief; nor can one of so quick speechfail to know that her wit is sharper than common. Thus far, I admit, thename of Faith will not surely belie thy character."

"If Eben Dudley hear thee use such vanity-stirring discourse," returnedthe half-pleased girl, "he might give thee less credit for wit than thouseemest willing to yield to others. I hear his heavy foot among thecattle, and ere long we shall be sure to see a face that hath little moreof lightness to boast."

"This Eben Dudley is a personage of no mean importance, I find!" mutteredthe other, continuing his walk, as the borderer named made his appearanceat another entrance of the pen. The glances exchanged between them werefar from friendly, though the woodsman permitted the stranger to passwithout any oral expression of displeasure.

"The skittish heifer is getting gentle at last, Faith Ring,", said theborderer; casting the butt of his musket on the ground with a violence thatleft 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 thefour-year-old to yield her milk."

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

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

"I hope that civil listening is no proof of unseemly discourse on the partof one who hath been trained in modesty of speech, Eben Dudley. Thou hastoften 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 bebetter 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 maidenshould not be scornful!"

"Thou sayest so. Whatever ill name I may deserve, thou hast no right tocount scorn among my failings."

"If I do, may I--" Eben Dudley bit his lip and checked an expression whichwould have given grievous offence to one whose habits of decency were assevere as those of his companion. "Thou must have heard much that wasprofitable to-day, Faith Ring," he added, "considering that thy ear is soopen, 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 herwas burning on her cheek.

"I would say that the tale must be long, that needeth four several trialsof 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 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 hast been afield since the crowingof the cock, know what hath passed about the dwellings? It is plain thatenvy, or some other evil passion, causeth thee to speak angrily."

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

"The labor must have gone on with great profit to the Captain, whilst eyeshave been roving over other matters! But perhaps they kept the strong ofarm 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 passingmoments, to cast an eye abroad, pert-one. Whatever thou mayst think ofthe need, there would be fine wailings in the butteries and dairies, didthe Wampanoags get into the clearing, and were there none to give thealarm in season."

"Truly, Eben, thy terror of the child in the block must be grievous forone of thy manhood, else wouldst thou not watch the buildings sonarrowly," retorted Faith, laughing; for with the dexterity of her sex,she began to feel the superiority she was gradually obtaining in thediscourse. "Thou dost not remember that we have valiant troopers, from oldEngland, to keep the younker from doing harm. But here cometh the bravesoldier himself: it will be well to ask vigilance at his hands, or thisnight may bring us to the tomahawk in our sleep!"

"Thou speakest of the weapon of the savages!" said the messenger, who haddrawn near again with a visible willingness to share in an interview whichwhile he had watched its progress at a distance appeared to be growinginteresting. "I trust all fear is over, from that quarter."

"As you say, for this quarter," said Eben, adjusting his lips to a lowwhistle, and coolly looking up to examine the heavenly body to which hemeant allusion. "But the next quarter may bring us a pretty piece ofIndian skirmishing."

"And what hath the moon in common with an incursion of the savages? Arethere those among them, who study the secrets of the stars?"

"They study deviltries and other wickedness, more than aught else. It isnot easy for the mind of man to fancy horrors such as they design, whenProvidence has given them success in an inroad."

"But thou didst speak of the moon! In what manner is the moon leagued withtheir bloody plots?"

"We have her now in the full, and there is little of the night when theeye of a watcher might not see a red skin in the clearing; but a differenttale may be heard, when an hour or two of jet darkness shall again fallamong these woods. There will be a change shortly; it behoveth ustherefore to be on our guard."

"Thou thinkest then, truly, that there are outlyers waiting for thefitting moment?" said the officer, with an interest so marked, as to causeeven 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 inthe corner of her eyes, which threatened at each moment to contradict hisrelation of the sinister omens.

"There may be savages lying in the hills, at day's journey in the forest;but they know the aim of a white man's musket too well, to be sleepingwithin reach of its range. It is the nature of an Indian to eat and sleepwhile he has time for quiet, and to fast and murder when the killing hourhath come."

"And what call you the distance to the nearest settlement on theConnecticut?" demanded the other with an air so studiously indifferent asto 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 takebut little of the latter, until his head be safely housed within some suchbuilding as yon block, or until there shall stand between him and theforest at least a goodly row of oaken pickets."

"There is no path ridden by which travellers may avoid the forest duringthe darkness?"

"I know of none. He who quits Wish-Ton-Wish for the towns below, must makehis 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. Thouthinkest, friend, the savages are in their resting time, and that theywait 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 heentertained, by closely locking its purport in a mental reservation.

"And what season is it usual to choose for getting into the saddle, whenbusiness calls any to the settlements below?"

"We never fail to take our departure about the time the sun touches thetall pine, which stands on yonder height of the mountain. Much experiencehath told us it is the safest hour; hand of time-piece is not more surethan yon tree."

"I like the night," said the other, looking about him with the air of onesuddenly struck with the promising appearance of the weather. "Theblackness no longer hangs about the forest, and it seems a fitting momentto push the matter, on which we are sent, nearer to its conclusion."

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

"Now dost thou believe, witless Dudley, that the four fingers of thyclumsy hand have numbered the full amount of all that thou callest mylistenings?" said Faith, when she thought no other ear but his to whomshe spoke could catch her words, and at the same time laughing merrilybeneath her heifer, though still speaking with a vexation she could notentirely repress.

"Have I spoken aught but truth? It is not for such as I to give lessons injourneying, to one who follows the honest trade of a man-hunter. I havesaid 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 itneeds be taken, like a bitter healing draught, with closed eyes and atmany swallows. One who drinketh of it too freely, may well-nigh bestrangled. I marvel that he who is so vigilant in providing for the caresof 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 mymusket wanting?"

"The good piece is truer to duty than its master Thou mayest have lawfullicense to sleep on thy post, for we maidens know nothing of the pleasureof the Captain in these matters; but it would be as seemly, if not assoldierly, to place the arms at the postern and thyself in the chambers,when next thou hast need of watching and sleeping in the same hour."

Dudley looked as confused as one of his mould and unbending temperamentmight well be, though he stubbornly refused to understand the allusion ofhis 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 theenemy, nor expect maidens to put too much trust----"

"In what, Faith?"

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

"Didst truly come then, girl?" said Eben, dropping his voice, and equallymanifesting his satisfaction and his shame. "But thou knowest, Faith, thatthe labor had fallen behind in behalf of the scouting party, and that thetoil of yesterday exceeded that of our usual burthens. Nevertheless, Ikeep 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 sovigilant throughout the day must needs tire of the task as night draws on.Fare thee well, wakeful Dudley; if thine eyes should open on the morrow,be thankful that the maidens have not stitched thy garments to thepalisadoes!"

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

In the mean time, the leader of the messengers and his militarysubordinate had a long and interesting conference. When it was ended, theformer took his way to the apartment in which Mark Heathcote was wont topass those portions of his time that were not occupied in his secretstrivings for the faith, or in exercise without, while superintending thelaborers in the fields. With some little circumlocution, which wasintended to mask his real motives, the agent of the King announced hisintention to take his final departure that very night.

"I felt it a duty, as one who has gained experience in arms by somepractice in the wars of Europe," he said, "to tarry in thy dwelling whiledanger threatened from the lurking savage. It would ill become soldiers tospeak of their intentions; but had the alarm in truth sounded, thou wiltgive faith, when I say that the block-house would not have been lightlyyielded! I shall make report to them that sent me, that in Captain MarkHeathcote, Charles hath a loyal subject, and the Constitution a firmsupporter. The rumors, of a seemingly mistaken description, which have ledus hither, shall be contradicted; and doubtless it will be found, thatsome accident hath given rise to the deception. Should there be occasionto dwell on the particulars of the late alarm, I trust the readiness of myfollowers to do good service to one of the King's subjects will not beoverlooked."

"It is the striving of an humble spirit to speak nought evil of itsfellows, and to conceal no good," returned the reserved Puritan. "If thouhast found thy abode in my dwelling to thy liking, thou art welcome; andif duty or pleasure calleth thee to quit it, peace go with thee. It willbe useful to unite with us in asking that thy passage through thewilderness may be unharmed; that he who watcheth over the meanest of hiscreatures should take thee in his especial keeping, and that the savageheathen----"

"Dost think the savage out of his villages?" demanded the messenger, withan indecorous rapidity, that cut short the enumeration of the particularblessings and dangers that his host thought it meet to include in theleave-taking prayer.

"Thou surely hast not tarried with us to aid in the defence, and yetfeel it doubtful that thy services might be useful!" observed MarkHeathcote, drily.

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

Then casting a glance of ill-concealed levity at one of his followers, whohad come to say that their steeds awaited, he made the parting salutationwith an air, in which the respect that one like the Puritan could scarcefail to excite, struggled with his habitual contempt for things of aserious character.

The family of Mark Heathcote, the lowest dependant included, saw thesestrangers depart with great inward satisfaction. Even the maidens, in whomnature, in moments weaker than common, had awakened some of the lightervanities, were gladly rid of gallants, who could not soothe their earswith the unction of flattery, without frequently giving great offence totheir severe principles, by light and irreverent allusions to things onwhich they themselves were accustomed to think with fitting awe. EbenDudley could scarcely conceal the chuckle with which he saw the party burythemselves in the forest, though neither he, nor any of the moreinstructed in such matters, believed they incurred serious risk from theirsudden enterprise.

The opinions of the scouts proved to be founded on accurate premises. Thatand many a subsequent night passed without alarm. The season continued toadvance, and the laborers pursued their toil to its close, without anotherappeal to their courage, or any additional reasons for vigilance. WhittalRing followed his colts with impunity, among the recesses of theneighboring forests; and the herds of the family went and came, as long asthe 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 tobe food for tradition; and during the succeeding winter, the former oftenfurnished motive of merriment around the blazing fires that were sonecessary to the country and the season.

Still there existed in the family a living memorial if the unusualincidents of that night. The captive remained, long after the eventswhich had placed him in the power of the Heathcotes were beginning to beforgotten.

A desire to quicken the seeds of spiritual regeneration, which, howeverdormant they might be, old Mark Heathcote believed to exist in the wholefamily 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 modeof thinking of the times had a strong leaning towards superstition; and itwas far from difficult for a man of his ascetic habits and exaggerateddoctrines, to believe that a special interposition had cast the boy intohis hands, for some hidden but mighty purpose, that time in the goodseason would not fail to reveal.

Notwithstanding the strong coloring of fanaticism which tinged thecharacters of the religionists of those days, they were rarely wanting inworldly discretion. The agents they saw fit to employ, in order to aid themore hidden purposes of Providence, were in common useful and rational.Thus, while Mark never forgot to summon the lad from his prison at thehour of prayer, or to include an especial asking in behalf of the ignorantheathen in general and of this chosen youth in particular, he hesitated tobelieve that a manifest miracle would be exerted in his favor. That noblame might attach to the portion of duty that was confided to humanmeans, he had recourse to the discreet agency of kindness and unremittedcare. 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 adoptthe garments that were found so necessary to the comfort of men who weregreatly his superiors in hardihood and in strength. Clothes, decorated ina fashion suited to the taste of an Indian, were considerately provided,and entreaties and threats were both freely used, with a view to make thecaptive wear them. On one occasion, he was even forcibly clad by EbenDudley; and being brought, in the unwonted guise, into the presence of oldMark, the latter offered up an especial petition that the youth might bemade to feel the merits of this concession to the principles of achastened and instructed man. But within an hour, the stout woodsman, whohad 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 thePuritan, "the heathen hath already resumed his skin leggings and paintedwaist-cloth, notwithstanding the Captain has strove to pin better garmentson his back, by virtue of a prayer that might have clothed the nakednessof 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, thedifficulty of tempting one trained in the freedom and ease of a savage, toconsent to admit of the restraints of a state of being that is commonlythought to be so much superior. In every instance in which the youthfulcaptive had liberty of choice, he disdainfully rejected the customs of thewhites; adhering with a singular, and almost heroic pertinacity to theusages of his people and his condition.

The boy was not kept in his bondage without extraordinary care. Once, whentrusted in the fields, he had openly attempted to escape; nor was thepossession of his person recovered without putting the speed of EbenDudley and Reuben Ring to a more severe trial, as was confessed by theathletic young borderers themselves, than any they had hitherto undergone.From that moment, he was never permitted to pass the palisadoes. Whenduty called the laborers afield, the captive was invariably secured in hisprison, where, as some compensation for his confinement, he was supposedto enjoy the benefit of long and familiar communication with MarkHeathcote, who had the habit of passing many hours of each day, and, notunfrequently long portions of the night, too, within the retirement of theblock-house. During the time only when the gates were closed, or when someone of strength and activity sufficient to control his movements waspresent, was the lad permitted to stroll, at will, among the buildings ofthe border fortress. This liberty he never failed to exercise, and oftenin a manner that overcame the affectionate Ruth with a painful excess ofsensibility.

Instead of joining in the play of the other children, the young captivewould stand aloof, and regard their sports with a vacant eye, or, drawingnear to the palisadoes, he often passed hours in gazing wistfully at thoseendless forests in which he first drew breath, and which probablycontained all that was most prized in the estimation of his simplejudgment. Ruth, touched to the heart by this silent but expressiveexhibition of suffering, endeavored in vain to win his confidence, with aview of enticing him into employments that might serve to relieve hiscare. The resolute but still quiet boy would not be lured into aforgetfulness of his origin. He appeared to comprehend the kind intentionsof his gentle mistress, and frequently he even suffered himself to be ledby the mother into the centre of her own joyous and merry offspring; butit was only to look upon their amusements with his former cold air, and toreturn, at the first opportunity, to his beloved site at the pickets.Still there were singular and even mysterious evidences of a growingconsciousness of the nature of the discourse of which he was occasionallyan auditor, that would have betrayed greater familiarity with the languageand opinions of the inhabitants of the valley, than his known origin andhis absolute withdrawal from communication could give reason to expect.This important and inexplicable fact was proved by the frequent andmeaning glances of his dark eye, when aught was uttered in his hearingthat affected, ever so remotely, his own condition; and, once or twice, bythe haughty gleamings of ferocity that escaped him, when Eben Dudley washeard to vaunt the prowess of the white men in their encounters with theoriginal owners of the country. The Puritan did not fail to note thesesymptoms of a budding intelligence, as the pledges of a fruit that wouldmore than reward his pious toil; and they served to furnish a great reliefto certain occasional repugnance, which all his zeal Could not entirelysubdue, 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 Statesdiffered materially from that which is now known to their inhabitants. Awinter in the Province of Connecticut was attended by many successivefalls of snow, until the earth was entirely covered with firmlycompressed masses of the frozen element. Occasional thaws and passingstorms of rain, that were driven away by a return of the clear andcutting cold of the north-western gales, were wont at times to lay acovering on the ground, that was congealed to the consistency of ice,until men, and not unfrequently beasts, and sometimes sleighs, were seenmoving on its surface, as on the bed of a frozen lake. During theextremity of a season like this, the hardy borderers, who could not toilin their customary pursuits, were wont to range the forest in quest ofgame, which, driven for food to known resorting places in the woods,then fell most easily a prey to the intelligence and skill of such men asEben Dudley and Reuben Ring.

The youths never left the dwellings on these hunts, without exciting themost touching interest in their movements, on the part of the Indian boy,On all such occasions, he would linger at the loops of his prisonthroughout the day, listening intently to the reports of the distantmuskets, as they resounded in the forest; and the only time, during acaptivity of so many months, that he was ever seen to smile, was when heexamined the grim look and muscular claws of a dead panther, that hadfallen beneath the aim of Dudley, in one of these excursions to themountains. The compassion of all the borderers was powerfully awakened inbehalf of the patient and dignified young sufferer, and gladly would theyhave given their captive the pleasure of joining in the chase, had not thetask been one that was far from easy of accomplishment. The former of thewoodsmen just mentioned had even volunteered to lead him like a hound in aleash; but this was a species of degradation against which it was certainthat a young Indian, ambitious of the character and jealous of the dignityof a warrior, would have openly rebelled.The quick interest of the observant Ruth had, as it has been seen, earlydetected a growing intelligence in the boy. The means by which one, whonever mingled in the employments, and who rarely seemed to listen to thedialogues of the family could come to comprehend the meaning of a languagethat is found sufficiently difficult for a scholar, were however as muchof a mystery to her, as to all around her. Still, by the aid of thatinstinctive tact which so often enlightens the mind of woman was shecertain of the fact. Profiting by this knowledge, she assumed the task ofendeavoring to obtain an honorary pledge from her protege, that, ifpermitted to join the hunters, he would return to the valley at the end ofthe day. But though the language of the woman was gentle as her own kindnature, and her entreaties that he would give some evidence of havingcomprehended her meaning were zealous and oft repeated, not the smallestsymptom of intelligence, on this occasion, could be extracted from herpupil. Disappointed, and not without sorrow, Ruth had abandoned thecompassionate design in despair, when, on a sudden, the old Puritan, whohad been a silent spectator of her fruitless efforts, announced his faithin the integrity of the lad, and his intention to permit him to make oneof the very next party, that should leave the habitations.

The cause of this sudden change in the hitherto stern watchfulness of MarkHeathcote was, like so many other of his impulses, a secret in his ownbosom. It has just been said, that during the time Ruth was engaged in herkind and fruitless experiment to extract some evidence of intelligencefrom the boy, the Puritan was a close and interested observer of herefforts. He appeared to sympathize in her disappointment, but the weal ofthose unconverted tribes who were to be led from the darkness of theirways by the instrumentality of this youth, was far too important to admitthe thought of rashly losing the vantage-ground he had gained, in thegradually-expanding intellect of the boy, by running the hazard of anescape. To all appearance, the intention of permitting him to quit thedefences had therefore been entirely abandoned, when old Mark so suddenlyannounced a change of resolution. The conjectures on the causes of thisunlooked-for determination were exceedingly various. Some believed that thePuritan had been favored with a mysterious intimation of the pleasure ofProvidence, in the matter; and others thought that, beginning to despairof success in his undertaking, he was willing to seek for a more visiblemanifestation of its purposes, by hazarding the experiment of trusting theboy to the direction of his own impulses. All appeared to be of opinionthat if the lad returned, the circumstance might be set down to theintervention of a miracle. Still, with his resolution once taken, thepurpose of Mark Heathcote remained unchanged. He announced this unexpectedintention, after one of his long and solitary visits to the block-house,where it is possible he had held a powerful spiritual strife on theoccasion; and, as the weather was exceedingly favorable for such anobject, he commanded his dependants to prepare to make the sortie on thefollowing morning.

A sudden and an uncontrollable gleam of delight flashed on the darkfeatures of the captive, when Ruth was about to place in his hands the bowof her own son, and, by signs and words, she gave him to understand thathe was to be permitted to use it in the free air of the forest. But theexhibition of pleasure disappeared as quickly as it had been betrayed.When the lad received the weapons, it was rather with the manner of ahunter accustomed to their use, than of one to whose hands they had solong been strangers. As he left the gates of Wish-Ton-Wish, thehandmaidens of Ruth clustered about him, in wondering interest; for it wasstrange to see a youth so long guarded with jealous care, again free andunwatched. Notwithstanding their ordinary dependence on the secret lightsand great wisdom of the Puritan, there was a very general impression thatthe lad, around whose presence there was so much that was mysterious andof interest to their own security, was now to be gazed upon for the lasttime. The boy himself was unmoved to the last. Still he paused, with hisfoot on the threshold of the dwelling; and appeared to regard Ruth andher young offspring with momentary concern. Then, assuming the calm air ofan Indian warrior, he suffered his eye to grow cold and vacant, followingwith a nimble step the hunters who were already passing without thepalisadoes.

"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 areputation to the Spring, that it rarely merits. Though this imaginativeclass of writers have said so much of its balmy airs and odoriferousgales, we find it nearly everywhere the most reluctant, churlish, andfickle of the four seasons. It is the youth of the year, and, like thatprobationary period of life, most fitted to afford the promise of betterthings. There is a constant struggle between reality and hope throughoutthe whole of this slow-moving and treacherous period, which has anunavoidable tendency to deceive. All that is said of its gratefulproductions is fallacious, for the earth is as little likely to yield agenerous tribute without the quickening influence of the summer heats, asman is wont to bring forth commendable fruits without the agency of ahigher moral power than any he possesses in virtue of his innatepropensities. On the other hand, the fall of the year, possesses asweetness, a repose, and a consistency, which may be justly likened to thedecline of a well-spent life. It is, in all countries and in everyclimate, the period when physical and moral causes unite to furnish therichest sources of enjoyment. If the Spring is the time of hope, Autumn isthe season of fruition. There is just enough of change to give zest to thecurrent of existence, while there is too little of vicissitude to bepregnant of disappointment. Succeeding to the nakedness of Winter, theSpring 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 asthey may, the Spring and Autumn of America partake largely of theuniversally distinctive characters of the rival seasons. What Nature hasdone on this Continent, has not been done niggardly; and, while we mayboast of a decline of the year that certainly rivals, and, with fewexceptions, eclipses the glories of most of the climates of the old world,the opening months rarely fail of equalizing the gifts of Providence, by avery decided exhibition of all the disagreeable qualities for which theyare remarkable.

More than half a year had elapsed, between the time when the Indian boyhad been found lurking in the valley of the Heathcotes, and that day whenhe was first permitted to go into the forest, fettered by no otherrestraint than the moral tie which the owner of the valley either knew, orfancied, would not fail to cause him to return to a bondage he had foundso irksome. It was April; but it was April as the month was known acentury ago in Connecticut, and as it is even now so often found todisappoint all expectations of that capricious season of the year. Theweather had returned suddenly and violently to the rigor of winter. A thawhad been succeeded by a storm of snow and sleet, and the interlude of thespring-time of blossoms had terminated with a biting gale from thenorth-west, which had apparently placed a permanent seal on the lingeringpresence of a second February.

On the morning that Content led his followers into the forest, they issuedfrom the postern clad in coats of skin. Their lower limbs were protectedby 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 ofJanuary. When last seen, Eben Dudley, the heaviest of the band, was movingfirmly on the crust of the snow, with a step as sure as if he had troddenon the frozen earth itself. More than one of the maidens declared, thatthough they had endeavored to trace the footsteps of the hunters from thepalisadoes, it would have exceeded even the sagacity of an Indian eye tofollow their trail along the icy path they travelled.

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

The incident of the hunt, apart from the absence of the Indian boy, wasone of too common occurrence to give birth to any particular motives ofexcitement. Ruth quietly busied herself among her women, and when therecollection of those who were scouring the neighboring forest came at allto her mind, it was coupled with the care with which she was providing toadminister to their comforts after the fatigue of a day of extraordinarypersonal efforts. This was a duty never lightly performed. Her situationwas one eminently fitted to foster the best affections of woman, since itadmitted of few temptations to yield to other than the most naturalfeeling; she was, in consequence, known on all occasions to exercise themwith the devotedness of her sex.

"Thy father and his companions will look on our care with pleasure," saidthe thoughtful matron to her youthful image, as she directed a more thanusual 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 thechild already introduced by the name of Martha; "he is young to go intothe 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 cometo us more!"

"That would grieve our venerable parent; for thou knowest, Ruth, that hehath hopes of working on the mind of the boy, until his savage natureshall 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 lookout upon the fields. I would know if there be any signs of thy father andhis party."

Though Ruth gave this mandate to her daughter, she did not the lessneglect to exercise her own faculties in the same grateful office. Whilethe children went, as they were ordered, to the outer gate, the matronherself ascended to the lower apartment of the block, and, from itsdifferent loops, she took a long and anxious survey of the limitedprospect. The shadows of the trees, that lined the western side of theview, were already thrown far across the broad sheet of frozen snow, andthe sudden chill which succeeded the disappearance of the sun announcedthe rapid approach of a night that promised to support the severecharacter of the past day. A freezing wind, which had brought with it thecold airs of the great lakes, and which had even triumphed over the morenatural influence of an April sun, had however fallen, leaving atemperature not unlike that which dwells in the milder seasons of the yearamong 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, anyadditional uneasiness. But the hour had now arrived when she had reason tolook for the return of the hunters. With the expectation of seeing theirforms issuing from the forest, came the anxiety which is an unavoidableattendant of disappointment. The shadows continued to deepen in thevalley, until the gloom thickened to the darkness of night, withoutbringing any tidings from those without.

When a delay, which was unusual in the members of a family circumstancedlike that of the Wish-Ton-Wish, came to be coupled with various littleobservations that had been made during the day, it was thought thatreasons for alarm were beginning, at each instant, to grow more plausible.Reports of fire-arms had been heard, at an early hour, from oppositepoints in the hills, and in a manner too distinct to be mistaken forechoes; a certain proof that the different members of the hunt hadseparated in the forest. Under such circumstances, it was not difficultfor the imagination of a wife and a mother, of a sister, or of her whosecretly confessed a still more tender interest in some one of thehunters, to conjure to the imagination the numberless dangers to whichthose who were engaged in these expeditions were known to be exposed.

"I doubt that the chase hath drawn them further from the valley than isfitting for the hour and the season," observed Ruth to her maidens, whohad gathered in a group about her, at a point that overlooked as much ofthe cleared land around the buildings, as the darkness would allow; "thegravest man becomes thoughtless as the unreflecting child when led by theeagerness of the pursuit. It is the duty of older heads to think for thosethat want experience--but into what indiscreet complaints are my fearsleading! It may be that my husband is even now striving to collect hisparty, 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 heardamong the trees," returned Faith. "I did hear that which sounded like astrain of brawling Dudley's songs, but it proved to be no more than thelowing of one of his own oxen. Perchance the animal misseth some of itsmaster's care."

"Whittal Ring hath looked to the beasts, and it may not be that he hathneglected to feed, among others, the creatures of Dudley. Thy mind isgiven to levity, Faith, in the matter of this young man. It is not seemlythat one of thy years and sex should manifest so great displeasure at thename 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 withone of thy disposition."

"I did not fashion the man," said Faith, biting her lip, and tossing herhead; "nor is it aught to me whether he be gainly or not. As to my favorwhen he asks it, the man shall not wait long to know the answer. But isnot yon figure the fellow himself, Madam Heathcote?--here, coming in fromthe 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 ofEben Dudley. Thou shouldst have a knowledge of thy kindred, girl; to me itseemeth thy brother."

"Truly, it may be Reuben Ring; still it hath much of the swagger of theother, though their stature be nearly equal--the manner of carrying themusket is much the same with all the borderers too--one cannot easily tellthe form of man from a stump by this light--and--yet do I think it willprove to be the loitering Dudley."

"Loiterer or not, he is the first to return from this long and wearychase," said Ruth, breathing heavily, like one who regretted that thetruth were so. "Go thou to the postern, and admit him, girl. I orderedbolts to be drawn, for I like not to leave a fortress defended by a femalegarrison, at this hour, with open gates. I will hie to the dwelling, andsee to the comforts of those who are a-hungered, since it will not be longere we shall have more of them at hand."

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

"Gently, Master Dudley," said the wilful girl, who held the bolt withone hand, though she maliciously delayed to remove it. "We know thouart powerful of arm, and yet the palisadoes will scarcely fall at thytouch. Here are no Sampsons to pull down the pillars on our heads.Perhaps we may not be disposed to give entrance to them who stayabroad out of all season."

"Open the postern, girl," said Eben Dudley, "after which, if thou hastaught to say, we shall be better convenienced for discourse."

"It may be that thy conversation is most agreeable when heard fromwithout. Render an account of thy backslidings, throughout this day,penitent Dudley, that I may take pity on thy weariness. But lest hungershould have overcome thy memory, I may serve to help thee to theparticulars. The first of thy offences was to consume more than thyportion of the cold meats; the second was to suffer Reuben Ring to killthe deer, and for thee to claim it; and a third was the trick thou hast oflistening so much to thine own voice, that even the blasts fled thee, fromdislike 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. Thouart not the only strange animal by many who hath roared at the gate ofWish-Ton-Wish."

"Have any come within the day, Faith?" demanded the borderer, with theinterest such an event would be likely to create in the mind of one whohabitually lived in so great retirement.

"What sayest thou to a second visit from the gentle-spoken stranger? hewho 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 beheard a second time."

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

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

"This is foolish prating," returned the youth, provoked at the exhibitionof jealousy into which he had been incautiously betrayed. "I tell thee towithdraw the bolt, for I have great need to speak with the Captain, orwith his son."

"Thou mayst open thy mind to the first, if he will listen to what thouhast 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 whoadmitted a feeling of alarm to mingle with his surprise.

"Not in from the forest!" he said; "surely there are none abroad, now thatI am home!"

"Why dost say it? I have put my jibes upon thee more in payment of ancienttransgressions than for any present offence. So far from being last, thouart the first of the hunters we have yet seen. Go in to the Madam withoutdelay, and tell her of the danger, if any there be, that we take speedymeasures for our safety."

"That would do little good, truly," muttered the borderer, like onemusing. "Stay thou here, and watch the postern, Faith; I will back to thewoods; for a timely word, or a signal blown from my conch, might quickentheir footsteps."

"What madness hath beset thee, Dudley! Thou wouldst not go into the forestagain, at this hour and alone, if there be reason for fear! Come fartherwithin the gate, man, that I may draw the bolt the Madam will wonder thatwe tarry here so long."

"Ha!--I hear feet moving in the meadow; I know it by the creaking of thesnow; the others are not lagging."

Notwithstanding the apparent certainty of the young man, instead of goingforth to meet his friends, he withdrew a step, and with his own hand drewthe bolt that Faith had just desired might be fastened; taking care at thesame time to let fall a swinging bar of wood, which gave additionalsecurity to the fastenings of the postern. His apprehensions, if any suchhad induced this caution, were however unnecessary; for ere he had time tomake, or even to reflect on any further movement, admission was demandedin the well-known voice of the son of him who owned the valley. The bustleof the arrival, for with Content entered a group of companions loaded withvenison, put an end to the dialogue. Faith seized the opportunity to glideaway in the obscurity, in order to announce to her mistress that thehunters had returned--an office that she performed without entering at allinto the particulars of her own interview with Eben Dudley.

It is needless to dwell on the satisfaction with which Ruth received herhusband and son, after the uneasiness she had just suffered. Though thesevere manners of the Province admitted of no violent exhibition ofpassing emotions, secret joy was reigning in the mild eyes and glowingabout the flushed cheeks of the discreet matron, while she personallyofficiated in the offices of the evening meal.

The party had returned teeming with no extraordinary incidents; nor didthey appear to be disturbed with any of that seriousness of air which hadso unequivocally characterized the deportment of him who had precededthem. On the contrary, each had his quiet tale to relate, now perhaps atthe expense of a luckless companion, and sometimes in order that no partof his own individual skill, as a hunter, should be unknown. The delay wasaccounted for, as similar delays are commonly explained, by distance andthe temptations of an unusually successful chase. As the appetites ofthose who had passed the day in the exciting toil were keen and the viandstempting, the first half-hour passed quickly, as all such half-hours arewont to pass, in garrulous recitals of personal exploits, and of thehairbreadth escapes of deer, which, had fortune not been fickle, shouldhave now been present as trophies of the skill of the hand by which theyfell. It was only after personal vanity was sufficiently appeased, andwhen the hunger even of a border-man could achieve no more, that thehunters began to look about them with a diminished excitement, and todiscuss the events of the day with a fitting calmness, and with adiscretion more suited to their ordinary self-command.

"We lost the sound of thy conch, wandering Dudley, as we fell into thedeep 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 thymovements, until we met thee at the postern, stationed like a looker-outon 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 escapethe lips of even men chastened as his companions, Eben Dudley had tastedsparingly of the viands. Nor had the muscles of his hard countenance oncerelaxed in a smile. A gravity and silence so extraordinary, in one solittle accustomed to exhibit either quality, did not fail to attractattention. It was universally ascribed to the circumstance that he hadreturned empty-handed from the hunt: and now that one having authorityhad seen fit to give such a direction to the discourse, the imaginarydelinquent was not permitted to escape unscathed.

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

"Ever since the death of the straggling wether, the trade of Eben hathbeen at a stand," added another; "the down-hearted youth seems like oneready to give up his calling to the first stranger that shall ask it."

"Creatures which run at large prove better mutton than the stalledwether," continued a third; "and thereby custom was getting low beforethis hunt. Beyond a doubt, he has a full supply for all who shall belikely to seek venison in his stall."

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

"How is this?" she exclaimed in haste; "hath the stout Dudley lost any ofhis craft? I have never counted with greater certainty on the riches ofthe 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 beginnethto lack the hunter's skill."

"The man is getting melancholy with over-feeding," muttered the wilfultones of one busied among the vessels, in a distant part of the room. "Hetaketh his exercise alone, in order that none need 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 tooconfident of his established reputation to feel concern; but at the soundof the last speaker's voice, he grasped the bushy covering of one entirecheek in his hand, and turning a reproachful and irritated glance at thealready 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 bealone, rather than to be troubled with the company of some that mightreadily be named, no reference being had to such gallants as ride up anddown the colony, putting evil opinions into the thoughts of honest men'sdaughters; but why is Eben Dudley to bear all the small shot of yourhumors, when there is another who, it might seem, hath strayed evenfurther from your trail than he?"

Eye sought eye, and each youth by hasty glances endeavored to read thecountenances of all the rest in company, in order to learn who theabsentee might be. The young borderers shook their heads, as the featuresof every well-known face were recognised, and a general exclamation ofdenial 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 thebreasts of those who dwelt on that exposed frontier, that every man aroseat the words, by a sudden and common impulse, and each individual gazedabout him in a surprise that was a little akin to dismay.

"The boy was with us when we quitted the forest," said Content, after amoment of death-like stillness. "I spoke to him in commendation of hisactivity, and of the knowledge he had shown in beating up the secretplaces of the deer; though there is little reason to think my words wereunderstood."

"And were it not sinful to take such solemn evidence in behalf of so lighta matter, I could be qualified on the Book itself, that he was at my elbowas we entered the orchard," added Reuben Ring, a man renowned in thatlittle 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 thealarm on a subject that had so long exercised her care, and given food toher imagination.

"Nothing. With me he hath not been since the turn of the day. I have notseen the face of living man from that moment, unless in truth one ofmysterious 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 theappearance of the Puritan, at that moment, aided in quieting the levitythat 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 thecountenances of all present. Content waited a moment in respectfulsilence, till his father had moved slowly through the circle, and then heprepared himself to look further into an affair that began to assume theappearance of matter worthy of investigation.

"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 thishomely legend, to conceal no circumstance which may throw the necessarydegree of light on its incidents, nor any opinion that may serve for thebetter instruction of the reader in the characters of its actors. In orderthat this obligation may be discharged with sufficient clearness andprecision, it has now become necessary to make a short digression from theimmediate action of the tale.

Enough has been already shown, to prove that the Heathcotes lived at atime, and in a country, where very quaint and peculiar religious dogmashad the ascendancy. At a period when visible manifestations of thegoodness of Providence, not only in spiritual but in temporal gifts, wereconfidently expected and openly proclaimed, it is not at all surprisingthat more evil agencies should be thought to exercise their power in amanner that is somewhat opposed to the experience of our own age. As wehave no wish, however, to make these pages the medium of a theological ormetaphysical controversy, we shall deal tenderly with certain importantevents, that most of the writers, who were cotemporary with the facts,assert took place in the Colonies of New-England, at and about the periodof which we are now writing. It is sufficiently known that the art ofwitchcraft, and one even still more diabolical and direct in its origin,were then believed to flourish, in that quarter of the world, to a degreethat was probably in a very just proportion to the neglect with which mostof the other arts of life were treated.

There is so much grave and respectable authority, to prove the existenceof these evil influences, that it requires a pen hardier than any wewield, to attack them without a suitable motive. "Flashy people," says thelearned and pious Cotton Mather, Doctor of Divinity and Fellow of theRoyal Society, "may burlesque these things; but when hundreds of the mostsober 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 andfroward spirit of Sadducism can question them." Against this grave andcredited authority, we pretend to raise no question of scepticism. Wesubmit to the testimony of such a writer as conclusive, though ascredulity is sometimes found to be bounded by geographical limits, and topossess something of a national character, it may be prudent to refercertain readers, who dwell in the other hemisphere, to the Common Law ofEngland, on this interesting subject, as it is ingeniously expounded byKeeble and approved by the twelve judges of that highly civilized andenlightened island. With this brief reference to so grave authorities, insupport of what we have now to offer, we shall return to the matter of thenarrative, fully trusting that its incidents will throw some additionallight on the subject of so deep and so general concern.

Content waited respectfully until his father had taken his seat, and thenperceiving that the venerable Puritan had no immediate intention of movingpersonally in the affair, he commenced the examination of his dependant asfollows; opening the matter with a seriousness that was abundantlywarranted by the gravity of the subject itself.

"Thou hast spoken of one met in the forest," he said: "proceed with thepurport of that interviews and tell us of what manner of man it was."

Thus directly interrogated, Eben Dudley disposed himself to give a fulland satisfactory answer. First casting a glance around, so as to embraceevery curious and eager countenance, and letting his look rest a littlelonger than common on a half-interested, half-incredulous, and a somewhatironical dark eye, that was riveted on his own from a distant corner ofthe room, he commenced his statement as follows:

"It is known to you all," said the borderer, "that when we had gained themountain-top, there was a division of our numbers, in such a fashion thateach hunter should sweep his own range of the forest, in order thatneither moose, deer, nor bear, might have reasonable chance of escape.Being of large frame and it may be of swifter foot than common, the youngCaptain saw fit to command Reuben Ring to flank one end of the line, and aman, who is nothing short of him in either speed, or strength, to do thesame duty on the other. There was nothing particularly worthy of mentionthat took place on the flank I held, for the first two hours; unlessindeed the fact, that three several times did I fall upon a maze ofwell-beaten deer-tracks, that as often led to nothing----"

"These are signs common to the woods, and they are no more than so manyproofs 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, Iroused a noble buck from his lair beneath a thicket of hemlocks, andhaving 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 thathand 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 muchserious reflection."

"Deal more openly with the nature and appearance of the animal," saidContent, a little less tranquil than usual; while the youths and maidensplaced themselves in attitudes still more strongly denoting attention.

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

"Firstly," he said, "there was no trail, neither to nor from the spotwhere the creature had made its lair; secondly, when roused, it took notthe alarm, but leaped sportingly ahead, taking sufficient care to bebeyond the range of musket, without ever becoming hid from the eye; andlastly its manner of disappearance was as worthy of mention as any otherof 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 steadyhand might make sure of a buck of much smaller size, when--didst hearaught that might be accounted wonderful, at a season of the year when thesnows are still lying on the earth?"

The auditors regarded one another curiously, each endeavoring to recallsome unwonted sound which might sustain a narrative that was fastobtaining the seducing interest of the marvellous.

"Wast sure, Charity, that the howl we heard from the forest was the yellof the beaten hound?" demanded a handmaiden of Ruth, of a blue-eyedcompanion, who seemed equally well disposed to contribute her share ofevidence in support of any exciting legend.

"It might have been other," was the answer "though the hunters do speak oftheir having beaten the pup for restiveness."

"There was a tumult among the echoes, that sounded like the noises whichfollow the uproar of a falling tree," said Ruth, thoughtfully. "I rememberto have asked if it might not be that some fierce beast had caused ageneral discharge of the musketry, but my father was of opinion that deathhad 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 meof 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 wasuttered in the air, far above all forests. Had it been heard by one betterskilled in the secrets of nature----"

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

"Speak reverently, girl, of that thou dost not comprehend," said MarkHeathcote, with stern authority. "Marvels are manifested equally to theignorant and to the learned; and although vain-minded pretenders tophilosophy affirm, that the warring of the elements is no more than natureworking out its own purification, yet do we know, from all ancientauthorities, that other manifestations are therein exhibited. Satan mayhave control over the magazines of the air; he can 'let off the ordnanceof Heaven.' That the Prince of the Powers of Darkness hath as good a sharein chemistry as goes to the making of Aurum Fulminans, is asserted by oneof the wisest writers of our age."

From this declaration, and more particularly from the learningdiscovered in the Puritan's speech, there was no one so hardy as todissent. Faith was glad to shrink back among the bevy of awe-struckmaidens; while Content, after a sufficiently respectful pause, invitedthe woodsman, who was yet teeming with the most important part of hiscommunication, to proceed.

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

"What manner of man was he?"

"So far as human judgment might determine, he seemed a traveller, who wasendeavoring to push through the wilderness, from the towns below to thedistant settlements of the Bay Province; but I account it exceedingwonderful, that the trail of a leaping buck should have brought ustogether 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 ananimal were bounding along the wood into a distant thicket; but it isknown how readily one may be led by seeming probabilities into a falseconclusion, and so I account that glimpse as delusion. No doubt, theanimal, having done that which it was commissioned to perform, did thenand 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 ofthe experiences of the people, near the sea. According to the testimonyof the stranger, the Powers of Darkness have been manifested in theProvinces in a hideous fashion. Numberless of the believers have beenpersecuted 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 MarkHeathcote, breaking the awful stillness that succeeded the annunciation ofso heavy a visitation on the peace of the Colony, with his deep-toned andimposing voice. "Did he, with whom you conferred, enter into theparticulars of the trials?"

"He spoke also of certain other signs that are thought to foretell thecoming of trouble. When I named the weary chase that I had made, and thesound which came from the air, he said that these would be accountedtrifles in the towns of the Bay where the thunder and its lightnings haddone much evil work, the past season; Satan having especially shown hisspite, 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 thoseenvious natures, which, fostering evil themselves, cannot brook to lookupon the toiling of such as strive to keep the narrow path. We will nowresort to the only weapon it is permitted us to wield in thiscontroversy, but which, when handled with diligence and zeal, never failsto lead to victory."

So saying, without waiting to hear more of the tale of Eben Dudley, oldMark Heathcote arose, and assuming the upright attitude usual among thepeople of his sect, he addressed himself to prayer. The grave andawe-struck but deeply confiding congregation imitated his example, andthe 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 theouter air, and penetrated to the place where the family was assembled. Aconch was suspended at the postern, in readiness to be used by any of thefamily whom accident or occupation should detain beyond the usual hour ofclosing the gates; and both by the direction and nature of thisinterruption, it would seem that an applicant for admission stood at theportal. The effect on the auditors was general and instantaneous.Notwithstanding the recent dialogue, the young men involuntarily soughttheir arms, while the startled females huddled together like a flock oftrembling and timid deer.

"There is, of a certainty, a signal from without!" Content at lengthobserved, after waiting to suffer the sounds to die away among the anglesof the buildings. "Some hunter, who hath strayed from his path, claimethhospitality."

Eben Dudley shook his head like one who dissented, but, having with allthe other youths grasped his musket, he stood as undetermined as the restconcerning the course it was proper to pursue. It is uncertain how longthis indecision might have continued, had no further summons been given;but he without appeared too impatient of delay to suffer much time to belost. The conch sounded again, and with far better success than before.The blast was longer, louder, and bolder, than that which had firstpierced the walls of the dwelling, rising full and rich on the air, asthough one well practised in the use of the instrument had placed lips tothe shell.

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

"Who sounds at my gate?" demanded Content, when he and his followers hadgained a position, under cover of a low earthen mound erected expresslyfor the purpose of commanding the entrance; "who summons a peacefulfamily, at this hour of the night, to their outer defences?"

"One who hath need of what he asketh, or he would not disturb thyquiet," was the answer. "Open the postern, Master Heathcote, withoutfear; it is a brother in the faith, and a subject of the same laws, thatasketh the boon."

"Here is truly a Christian man without," said Content, hurrying to thepostern; which, without a moment's delay, he threw freely open, sayingas he did so, "enter of Heaven's mercy, and be welcome to that we haveto bestow."

A tall, and, by his tread, a heavy man, wrapped in a riding-cloak, bowedto the greeting, and immediately passed beneath the low lintel. Every eyewas keenly fastened on the stranger, who, after ascending the acclivity ashort distance, paused, while the young men, under their master's orders,carefully and scrupulously renewed the fastenings of the gate. When boltsand bars had done their office; Content joined his guest; and after makinganother 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 fromthis valley to the nearest habitation is wearisome, and one who hathjourneyed 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 ofthe Wish-Ton-Wish appeared to think one so situated might in all reasonfeel, thus invited he did not hesitate to comply. As he followed in thefootsteps of his host, his tread, however, was leisurely and dignified;and once or twice, when the other half delayed in order to make somepassing observation of courtesy, he betrayed no indiscreet anxiety toenter on those personal indulgences which might in reality prove sograteful to one who had journeyed far in an inclement season, and along aroad where neither dwelling nor security invited repose.

"Here is warmth and a peaceful welcome," pursued Content, ushering hisguest into the centre of a group of fearfully anxious faces. "In a littletime, other matters shall be added to thy comfort."

When the stranger found himself under the glare of a powerful light, andconfronted to so many curious and wondering eyes, for a single instant hehesitated. Then stepping calmly forward, he cast the short riding-cloak,which had closely muffled his features, from his shoulders, and discoveredthe severe eye, the stern lineaments, and the athletic form of him who hadonce before been known to enter the doors of Wish-Ton-Wish with littlewarning, and to have quitted them so mysteriously.

The Puritan had arisen, with quiet and grave courtesy, to receive hisvisiter; but obvious, powerful, and extraordinary interest gleamedabout his usually subdued visage, when, as the features of the otherwere exposed to view, he recognised the person of the man who advancedto meet him.

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

Notwithstanding the excess and nature of the surprise which the veteranMark had certainly betrayed, it endured just long enough to allow thosewondering eyes, which were eagerly devouring all that passed, to noteits existence. Then, the subdued and characteristic manner, which ingeneral marked his air, instantly returned, and with a quiet gesture,like that which friends use in moments of confidence and security, hebeckoned 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 wayto the apartment chosen for an interview that was evidently intended tobe private.

"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 torecognition, before the eyes of the curious group in the outer room, didnot much exceed a minute. Still it was long enough to allow men who rarelyoverlooked the smallest peculiarity of dress or air, to note some of themore distinguishing accompaniments of his attire. The heavy horseman'spistols, once before exhibited, were in his girdle, and young Mark got aglimpse of a silver-handled dagger which had pleased his eye before thatnight. But the passage of his grandfather and the stranger from the roomprevented the boy from determining whether it was entirely of the samefashion as that, which, rather as a memorial of by-gone scenes than forany service that it might now be expected to perform, hung above the bedof the former.

"The man hath not yet parted with his arms!" exclaimed the quick-sightedyouth, when he found that every other tongue continued silent. "I would hemay now leave them with my grand'ther, that I may chase the skulkingWampanoag to his hiding--"

"Hot-headed boy! Thy tongue is too much given to levity," said Ruth, whohad not only resumed her seat, but the light employment that had beeninterrupted by the blast at the gate with a calmness of mien that did notfail in some degree to reassure her maidens. "Instead of cherishing thelessons of peace that are taught thee, thy unruly thoughts are ever benton 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: andperhaps aid something, too, in affording security to my mother?"

"Thy mother hath no fears," returned the matron gravely, while gratefulaffection prompted a kind but furtive glance towards the high-spiritedthough sometimes froward lad. "Reason hath already taught me the follyof alarm, because one has knocked at our gate in the night-season. Layaside thy arms, men; you see that my husband no longer clings to themusket. Be certain that his eye will give us warning, when there shall bedanger at hand."

The unconcern of her husband was even more strikingly true, than thesimple language of his wife would appear to convey. Content had not onlylaid aside his weapon, but he had resumed his seat near the fire, with anair as calm, as assured, and it might have seemed to one watchfullyobservant, as understanding, as her own. Until now, the stout Dudley hadremained leaning on his piece, immovable and apparently unconscious as astatue. 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 thenrunning a hand through his shaggy locks, as though the action mightquicken ideas that were never remarkably active, he bluntly exclaimed--

"An armed hand is well in these forests, but an armed heel is not lesswanting to him who would push a roadster from the Connecticut to theWish-Ton-Wish, between a rising and a setting sun! The stranger no longerjourneys in the saddle, as is plain by the sign that his boot beareth nospur. When he worried, by dint of hard pricking, the miserable hack thatproved food for the wolves, through the forest, he had betterappointments. I saw the bones of the animal no later than this day. Theyhave been polished by fowls and frost, till the driven snow of themountains is not whiter!"

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

"Go you to the look-out at the western palisadoes," said the latter; "andsee if perchance the Indian may not be lurking near the dwellings, ashamedof his delay, and perchance fearful of calling us to his admission. Icannot 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 theyoungster may fancy to be due to the master of the valley and his kin; butif not gone already, the snow will not melt more quietly in the thaw, thanthe lad will one day disappear. Reuben Ring, thou hast an eye for light ordarkness; 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 topass the clearing without a hail."

"Go to," hurriedly answered the female; "it is more womanly that I tarryto see to the wants of him who hath journeyed far and hard, since therising of the sun. If the boy pass thy vigilance, wakeful Dudley, he willhave little cause to fear that of others."

Though Faith so decidedly declined to make one of the party, her brothercomplied without reluctance. The young men were about to quit the placetogether; when the latch, on which the hand of Dudley was already laid,rose quietly without aid from his finger, the door opened, and the objectof their intended search glided past them, and took his customary positionin one of the more retired corners of the room. There was so much of theordinary, noiseless manner of the young captive in this entrance, that fora moment they who witnessed the passage of his dark form across theapartment, were led to think the movement no more than the visit he wasalways permitted to make at that hour. But recollection soon came, andwith it not only the suspicious circumstance of his disappearance, but theinexplicable manner of his admission within the gates.

"The pickets must be looked to!" exclaimed Dudley, the instant a secondlook 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 enteredwhen the gate was opened for the stranger?--Here cometh one that may speakto the fact!"

"It is so," said the individual named, who re-entered from the inner roomin season to hear the nature of the remark. "I found this native childnear thy gate, and took upon me the office of a Christian man to bid himwelcome. Certain am I, that one, kind of heart and gently disposed, likethe 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 beenotherwise, thou wouldst have done well."

Eben Dudley looked incredulous. His mind had been powerfully exercisedthat day with visions of the marvellous, and, of a certainty, there wassome reason to distrust the manner in which the re-appearance of theyouth 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 atwork in the Colony, one may not-sleep too soundly!"

"Then go thou to the look-out, and keep the watch, till the clock shallstrike the hour of midnight;" said the Puritan, who uttered the command ina manner to show that he was in truth moved by considerations far deeperthan 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 lowestof his syllables to be audible. On the present occasion, when his voicewas first heard, such a stillness came over all in presence, that hefinished the sentence amid the nearly imperceptible breathings of thelisteners. In this momentary but death-like quiet, there arose a blastfrom the conch at the gate, that might have seemed an echo of that whichhad so lately startled the already-excited inmates of the dwelling. At therepetition of sounds so unwonted, all sprang to their feet, but no onespoke. Content cast a hurried and inquiring glance at his father, who inhis turn had anxiously sought the eye of the stranger. The latter stoodfirm and unmoved. One hand was clenched upon the back of the chair fromwhich he had arisen, and, the other grasped, perhaps unconsciously, thehandle of one of those weapons which had attracted the attention of youngMark, and which still continued thrust through the broad leathern beltthat girded his doublet.

"The sound is like that, which one little used to deal with earthlyinstruments might raise!" muttered one of those whose mind had beenprepared, 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, thatmore than one hand should do the office of porter."

The borderer instantly complied, muttering between his teeth as he shookthe priming deeper into the barrel of his piece, "Your over-sea gallantsare quick on the trail to-night!" Then throwing the musket into the hollowof his arm, he cast a look of discontent and resentment towards FaithRing, and was about to open the door for the passage of Content, whenanother blast arose on the silence without. The second touch, of the shellwas firmer, longer, louder, and more true, than that by which it had justbeen preceded.

"One might fancy the conch was speaking in mockery," observed Content,looking with meaning towards their guest. "Never did sound more resemblesound than these we have just heard, and those thou drew from the shellwhen 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 longfamiliarity than with the diffidence of a newly-arrived guest, he motionedfor silence as he said--

"Let none move, but this stout woodsman, the young captain and myself. Wewill go forth, and doubt not that the safety of those within shall beregarded."

Notwithstanding the singularity of this proposal, as it appeared to exciteneither surprise nor opposition in the Puritan or his son, the rest of thefamily offered no objection. The stranger had no sooner spoken, than headvanced near to the torch, and looked closely into the condition of hispistols. Then turning to old Mark, he continued in an under tone--

"Peradventure there will be more worldly strife than any which can flowfrom the agencies that stir up the unquiet spirits of the Colonies. Insuch an extremity, it may be well to observe a soldier's caution."

"I like not this mockery of sound," returned the Puritan; "it argueth ataunting and fiend-like temper. We have, of late, had in this Colonytragical 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 thesight of my Bethel."

Though the stranger listened to the words of his host with respect, it wasplain that his thoughts dwelt on dangers of a different character. Themember that still rested on the handle of his weapon, was clenched withgreater firmness; and a grim, though a melancholy expression was seatedabout 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 twocompanions he had chosen, and led the way to the court.

By this time, the shades of night had materially thickened, and, althoughthe hour was still early, a darkness had come over the valley thatrendered it difficult to distinguish objects at any distance from theeye. The obscurity made it necessary that they, who now issued from thedoor of the dwelling, should advance with caution, lest, ere properlyadmonished of its presence, their persons should be exposed to somelurking danger. When the three, however, were safely established behindthe thick curtain of plank and earth that covered and commanded theentrance, and where their persons, from the shoulders downward, werecompletely protected, alike from shot and arrow, Content demanded toknow, who applied at his gates for admission at an hour when they werehabitually closed for the night. Instead of receiving, as before, a readyanswer, the silence was so profound, that his own words were verydistinctly heard repeated, as was not uncommon at that quiet hour, amongthe recesses of the neighboring woods.

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

"What think'st, Dudley?" asked Content--"Will it be well to sally, orshall we wait another signal from the conch?"

"Much dependeth on the quality of the guests expected," returned he ofwhom counsel was asked. "As for the braggart gallants, that areover-valiant among the maidens, and heavy of heart when they think thescreech of the jay an Indian whoop, I care not if ye beat the pickets tothe earth, and call upon them to enter on the gallop. I know the manner tosend them to the upper story of the block, quicker than the cluck of theturkey can muster its young; but----"

"'Tis well to be discreet in language, in a moment of such seriousuncertainty!" interrupted the stranger. "We look for no gallants ofthe kind."

"Then will I give you a conceit that shall know the reason of the music ofyon conch. Go ye two back into the house, making much conversation by theway, in order that any without may hear. When ye have entered, it shall bemy 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 it may be done with allsafety, some others of the young men, who are accustomed to this speciesof artifice, shall issue by the secret door and lie in wait behind thedwellings, in order that support shall not be wanting in case of violence.Whatever else thou dost, Dudley, remember that thou dost not undo thefastenings of the postern."

"Look to the support," returned the woodsman; "should it be keen-eyedReuben Ring, I shall feel none the less certain that good aid is at myback. The whole of that family are quick of wit and ready ofinvention, unless it may be the wight who hath got the form withoutthe reason of a man."

"Thou shalt have Reuben, and none other of his kin," said Content. "Bewell advised of the fastenings, and so I wish thee all fitting success, ina deception that cannot be sinful, since it aims only at our safety."

With this injunction, Content and the stranger left Dudley to the practiceof his own devices, the former observing the precaution to speak aloudwhile returning, in order that any listeners without might be led tosuppose the whole party had retired from the search, satisfied of itsfruitlessness.

In the mean time, the youth left nigh the postern set about theaccomplishment of the task he had undertaken, in sober earnest. Instead ofdescending in a direct line to the palisadoes, he also ascended, and madea circuit among the out-buildings on the margin of the acclivity. Thenbending so low as to blend his form with objects on the snow, he gained anangle of the palisadoes, at a point remote from the spot he intended towatch, and, as he hoped, aided by the darkness of the hour and the shadowsof the hill, completely protected from observation. When beneath thepalisadoes, the sentinel crouched to the earth, creeping with extremecaution along the timber which bound their lower ends, until he foundhimself arrived at a species of sentry-box that was erected for the verypurpose to which he now intended it should be applied. Once within thecover of this little recess, the sturdy woodsman bestowed his large frame,with as much attention to comfort and security as the circumstances wouldpermit. Here he prepared to pass many weary minutes, before there shouldbe further need of his services.

The reader will find no difficulty in believing that one of opinions likethose of the borderer, did not enter on his silent watch without muchdistrust of the character of the guests that he might be called upon toreceive. Enough has been shown to prove that the suspicion uppermost inhis mind was, that the unwelcome agents of the government had returned onthe heels of the stranger. But, notwithstanding the seeming probability ofthis opinion, there were secret misgivings of the earthly origin of thetwo last windings of the shell. All the legends, and all the most creditedevidence in cases of prestigious agency, as it had been exhibited in thecolonies of New-England, went to show the malignant pleasure the EvilSpirits found, in indulging their wicked mockeries, or in otherwisetormenting those who placed their support on a faith, that was believed tobe so repugnant to their own ungrateful and abandoned natures. Under theimpressions, naturally excited by the communication he had held with thetraveller in the mountains, Eben Dudley found his mind equally dividedbetween the expectation of seeing, at each moment, one of the men whom hehad induced to quit the valley so unceremoniously, returning to obtain,surreptitiously, admission within the gate, or of being made an unwillingwitness of some wicked manifestation of that power which was temporarilycommitted to the invisibles. In both of these expectations, however, hewas fated to be disappointed Notwithstanding the strong spiritual bias ofthe opinions of the credulous sentinel, there was too much of the dross oftemporal things in his composition, to elevate him altogether above theweakness of humanity. A mind so encumbered began to weary with its owncontemplations; and, as it grew feeble with its extraordinary efforts, thedominion of matter gradually resumed its sway. Thought, instead of beingclear and active, as the emergency would have seemed to require, began togrow misty. Once or twice the borderer half arose, and appeared to lookabout him with observation; and then, as his large frame fell heavily backinto its former semi-recumbent attitude, he grew tranquil and stationary.This movement was several times repeated, at intervals of increasinglength, till, at the end of an hour, forgetting alike the hunt, thetroopers, and the mysterious agents of evil, the young man yielded to thefatigue of the day. The tall oaks of the adjoining forest stood not moreimmovable in the quiet of the tranquil hour, than his frame now leanedagainst the side of its narrow habitation.

How much time was thus lost in inactivity, Eben Dudley could neverprecisely tell. He always stoutly maintained it could not have been long,since his watch was not disturbed by the smallest of those sounds from thewoods, which sometimes occur in deep night, and which may be termed thebreathing of the forest in its slumbers. His first distinct recollection,was that of feeling a hand grasped with the power of a giant. Springing tohis feet, the young man eagerly stretched forth an arm, saying as he didso, 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 in limb or body, I claim the venison for asurer 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 thehead of the deer for a target to Reuben Ring, and keepest the rest of thecreature to thine own uses."

"Who hath sent thee, at this hour, to the postern? Dost not know thatthere are thought to be strangers, outlying in the fields?"

"I know that there are some, who are not strangers, in-lying on theirwatch!" said Faith Ring. "What shame would come upon thee, Dudley, did theCaptain, 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 spiritualmovements, I hope he will allow that nothing earthly hath passed thispostern to disturb the exercise. As I hope to be dealt honestly by, inall matters of character, I have not once quitted the gate, since thewatch was set."

"Else wouldst thou be the famousest sleep-walker in the ConnecticutColony! Why, drowsy one, conch cannot raise a louder blast than that thousoundest, 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 halfso ignorant of that which passeth around it, as thou hast been."

"I think, Faith Ring, that thou hast gotten to be much given tobackbiting, and evil saying against friends, since the visit of thegallants from over sea."

"Out upon the gallants from over sea, and thee too, man! I am not a girlto be flouted with bold speech from one who doth not know whether he besleeping or waking. I tell thee, thy good name would be lost in thefamily, did it come to the ears of the Captain, and more particularly tothe knowledge of that soldier stranger, up in the dwelling, of whom eventhe Madam maketh so great ceremony, that thou hast been watching with atuneful nose, an open mouth, and a sealed eye."

"If any but thee hadst said this slander of me, girl, it would go nigh toraise hot speech between us! Thy brother, Reuben Ring, knows better thanto stir my temper, by such falsity of accusation."

"Thou dealest so generously by him, that he is prone to forget thymisdeeds. Truly he hath the head of the buck, while thou contentestthyself with The offals and all the less worthy parts! Go to, Dudley; thouwast in a heavy dream when I caused thee to awake."

"A pretty time have we fallen upon, when petticoats are used instead ofbeards and strong-armed men, to go the rounds of the sentinels, and to saywho sleepeth and who is watchful! What hath brought thee so far from theexercises and so nigh the gates, Mistress Faith, now that there is nooversea gallant to soothe thy ears with lying speech and lightdeclarations."

"If speech not to be credited is that I seek," returned the girl, "trulythe errand hath not been without its reward. What brought me hither,sooth! why, the Madam hath need of articles from the outerbuttery--and--ay--and my ears led me to the postern. Thou knowest, musicalDudley, that I have had occasion to hearken to thy watchful notes beforethis night. But my time is too useful to be wasted in idleness; thou artnow awake, and may thank her who hath done thee a good turn with no wishto boast of it, that one of a black beard is not the laughing-stock of allthe youths in the family. If thou keepest thine own counsel, the Captainmay yet praise thee for a vigilant sentinel; though Heaven forgive him thewrong he will do the truth!

"Perhaps a little anger at unjust suspicions may have prompted more thanthe 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, hathcome over my thoughts, and perhaps made me even forgetful that it wasneedful to be silent at the postern; and therefore, on the truth of aChristian man, I do forgive thee, the----"

But Faith was already out of sight and out of hearing. Dudley himself, whobegan to have certain prickings of conscience concerning the ingratitudehe 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 muchreason to suspect that there was less of the night before him than he hadat first believed, and he became in consequence more sensible of thenecessity of making some report of the events of his watch. Accordingly,he cast a scrutinizing glance around, in order to make sure that the factsshould not contradict his testimony, and then, first examining thefastenings of the postern, he mounted the hill, and presented himselfbefore the family. The members of the latter, having in truth passed mostof the long interval of his absence in spiritual exercises, and inreligious conversation, were not so sensible of his delay in reporting, asthey might otherwise have been.

"What tidings dost thou bring us from without?" said Content, so soon asthe self-relieved sentinel appeared. "Hast seen any, or hast heard thatwhich is suspicious?"

Ere Dudley would answer, his eye did not fail to study the half-maliciousexpression of the countenance of her who was busy in some domestic toil,directly opposite to the place where he stood. But reading there no morethan a glance of playful though smothered irony, he was encouraged toproceed in his report.

"The watch has been quiet," was the answer; "and there is little cause tokeep the sleepers longer from their beds. Some vigilant eyes, like thoseof Reuben Ring and my own, had better be open until the morning; furtherthan that, is there no reason for being wakeful."

Perhaps the borderer would have dwelt more at large on his own readinessto pass the remainder of the hours of rest in attending to the security ofthose who slept, had not another wicked glance from the dark, laughing eyeof 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. "Wewill now go to our pillows in thankfulness and peace. Thy service shallnot 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 willnot forget his readiness to lose the sweets of sleep, in order that thefeeble may not come to harm."

"Speak not of the trifle," hurriedly returned the other. "There has beensome deception in the sounds, for it is now my opinion, except to summonus to the gate, that this stranger might enter--the conch hath not beentouched at all to night."

"Then is it a deception which is repeated!" exclaimed Content, rising fromhis chair as a faint and broken blast from the shell, like that which hadfirst announced their visiter, again struggled among the buildings, untilit reached every ear in the dwelling.

"Here is warning as mysterious as it may prove portentous!" said old MarkHeathcote, when the surprise, not to say consternation of the moment hadsubsided. "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 notnecessary to wait long; for in a time as near as might be, to that whichhad 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.

"I will watch to-night;
Perchance 't will walk again."

Hamlet.

"May not this be a warning given in mercy?" the Puritan, at all timesdisposed to yield credit to supernatural manifestations of the care ofProvidence, demanded with a solemnity that did not fail to produce itsimpression on most of his auditors. "The history of our Colonies is fullof the evidences of these merciful interpositions."

"We will thus consider it;" returned the stranger, to whom the questionseemed more particularly addressed. "The first measure shall be to seekout the danger to which it points. Let the youth they call Dudley, give methe aid of his powerful frame and manly courage; then trust the discoveryof 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 andRuth, the latter of whom pressed her little image to her side as thoughthe bare proposal presented a powerful picture of supernatural danger."'Twill be well to think maturely on the step, ere thou runnest the hazardof such an adventure."

"Better it should be I," said Content, "who am accustomed to forestsigns, and all the usual testimonials of the presence of those who maywish us harm."

"No," said he, who for the first time had been called 'Submission,' a namethat savored of the religious enthusiasm of the times, and which mighthave been adopted as an open avowal of his readiness to bow beneath somepeculiar dispensation of Providence. "This service shall be mine. Thou artboth husband and father; and many are there who look to thy safety as totheir rock of earthly support and comfort, while neither kindred, nor--butwe will not speak of things foreign to our purpose! Thou knowest, MarkHeathcote, that peril and I are no strangers. There is little need to bidme be prudent. Come, bold woodsman; shoulder thy musket, and be ready todo credit to thy manhood, should there be reason to prove it."

"And why not Reuben Ring?" said a hurried female voice, that all knew toproceed from the lips of the sister of the youth just named. "He is quickof eye and ready of hand, in trials like these; would it not be well tosuccor thy party with such aid?"

"Peace, girl," meekly observed Ruth. "This matter is already in theordering of one used to command; there needeth no counsel from thy shortexperience."

Faith shrunk back abashed, the flush which had mantled over her browncheek deepening to a tint like that of blood.

Submission (we use the appellation in the absence of all others) fasteneda searching glance, for a single moment, on the countenance of the girl;and then, as if his intention had not been diverted from the principalsubject in hand, he rejoined coolly--

"We go as scouters and observers of that which may hereafter call for theready assistance of this youth; but numbers would expose us toobservation, without adding to our usefulness--and yet," he added,arresting his footstep, which was already turned towards the door, andlooking earnestly and long at the Indian boy, "perhaps there standeth onewho might much enlighten us, would he but speak!"

This remark drew every eye on the person of the captive. The lad stood thescrutiny with the undismayed and immovable composure of his race. Butthough 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 oftenbeen known to glitter in his glances, when he had reason to think that hisfortunes, or his person, was the subject of the peculiar observation ofthose with whom he dwelt. On the contrary, the expression of his darkvisage was rather that of amity than of hatred, and there was a momentwhen the look he cast upon Ruth and her offspring was visibly touched witha feeling of concern. A glance, charged with such a meaning, could notescape the quick-sighted vigilance of a mother.

"The child hath proved himself worthy to be trusted," she said; "and inthe name of him who looketh into and knoweth all hearts, let him oncemore go forth."

Her lips became sealed, for again the conch announced the seemingimpatience of those without to be admitted. The full tones of the shellthrilled on the nerves of the listeners, as though they proclaimed thecoming of some great and fearful judgment.

In the midst of these often-repeated and mysterious sounds, Submissionalone seemed calm and unmoved. Turning his look from the countenance ofthe boy, whose head had dropped upon his breast as the last notes of theconch 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 firmeven as those who now issued into the open air, in quest of the solutionof doubts that were becoming intensely painful. The stranger, orSubmission, as we may in future have frequent occasion to call him, ledthe way in silence to a point of the eminence, without the buildings,where the eye might overlook the palisadoes that hedged the sides of theacclivity, and command a view beyond of all that the dusky and imperfectlight would reveal.

It was a scene that required familiarity with a border life to be lookedon, at any moment, with indifference. The broad, nearly interminable, andseemingly trackless forest lay about them, bounding the view to the narrowlimits of the valley, as though it were some straitened oasis amidst anocean of wilderness. Within the boundaries of the cleared land, objectswere less indistinct; though even those nearest and most known were nowseen only in the confused and gloomy outlines of night.

Across this dim prospect, Submission and his companion gazed long andcautiously.

"There is nought but motionless stumps, and fences loaded with snow,"said the former, when his eye had roamed over the whole circuit of theview which lay on the side of the valley where they stood, "We must goforth, that we may look nearer to the fields."

"Thither then is the postern," said Dudley, observing that the other tooka direction opposite to that which led to the gate. But a gesture ofauthority induced him at the next instant to restrain his voice, and tofollow whither his companion chose to lead the way.

The stranger made a circuit of half the hill ere he descended to thepalisadoes, at a point where lay long and massive piles of wood, whichhad been collected for the fuel of the family. This spot was one thatoverlooked the steepest acclivity of the eminence, which was in itself,just there, so difficult of ascent, as to render the provision of thepickets far less necessary than in its more even faces. Still no usefulprecaution for the security of the family had been neglected, even atthis strong point of the works. The piles of wood were laid at such adistance from the pickets as to afford no facilities for scaling them,while, on the other hand, they formed platforms and breast-works thatmight have greatly added to the safety of those who should be required todefend this portion of the fortress. Taking his way directly amid theparallel piles, the stranger descended rapidly through the whole of theirmazes, until he had reached the open space between the outer of therows and the palisadoes, a space that was warily left too wide to bepassed by the leap of man.

"'Tis many a day since foot of mine has been in this spot," said EbenDudley, feeling his way along a path that his companion threaded withoutany apparent hesitation. "My own hand laid this outer pile, some winterssince, and certain am I, that from that hour to this, man hath not toucheda billet of the wood--And yet, for one who hath come from over sea, itwould appear that thou hast no great difficulty in making way among thenarrow 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 wasconcealed from any prying eyes within the works, by triple and quadruplebarriers of wood. Feeling in his girdle, he then drew forth somethingwhich 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 tomake the most of his eyes, Submission applied the instrument to a lockthat was artfully sunk in one of the timbers, at the height of a man'sbreast from the ground; and giving a couple of vigorous turns, a piece ofthe palisado, some half a fathom long, yielded on a powerful hinge below,and, falling, made an opening sufficiently large for the passage of ahuman body.

"Here is a sally-port ready provided for our sortie," the strangercoolly observed, motioning to the other to precede him. When Dudley hadpassed, his companion followed, and the opening was then carefullyclosed and locked.

"Now is all fast again, and we are in the fields without raising alarm toany of mortal birth, at least," continued the guide, thrusting a hand intothe folds of his doublet, as if to feel for a weapon, and preparing todescend the difficult declivity which still lay between him and the baseof the hill. Eben Dudley hesitated to follow. The interview with thetraveller in the mountains occurred to his heated imagination, and thevisions of a prestigious agency revived with all their original force.The whole manner and the mysterious character of his companion, waslittle likely to reassure a mind disturbed with such images.

"There is a rumor going in the Colony," muttered the borderer, "that theinvisibles are permitted for a time to work their evil; and it may wellhappen that some of their ungodly members shall journey to theWish-Ton-Wish, in lack of better employment."

"Thou sayest truly," replied the stranger; "but the power that allows oftheir wicked torments may have seen fit to provide an agent of its own, todefeat their subtleties. We will now draw nearer to the gate, in orderthat an eye may be kept on their malicious designs."

Submission spoke with gravity, and not without a certain manner ofsolemnity. Dudley yielded, though with a divided and a disturbed mind, tohis suggestion. Still he followed in the footsteps of the stranger, with acaution that might well have eluded the vigilance of any agency short ofthat which drew its means of information from sources deeper than any ofhuman power.

When the two watches had found a secret and suitable place, not far fromthe postern, they disposed themselves in silence to await the result. Theoutbuildings lay in deep quiet, not a sound of any sort arising from allof the many tenants they were known to contain. The lines of raggedfences; the blackened stumps, capped with little pyramids of snow; thetaller and sometimes suspiciously-looking stubs; an insulated tree, andfinally the broad border of forest,--were alike motionless, gloomy, andclothed in the doubtful forms of night. Still, the space around thewell-secured and trebly-barred postern was vacant. A sheet of spotlesssnow served as a back-ground, that would have been sure to betray thepresence of any object passing over its surface. Even the conch might beseen suspended from one of the timbers, as mute and inoffensive as thehour, 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 bythe powers of air, or be he one sent on an errand of earth;" whisper edSubmission, preparing his arms for immediate use, and disposing of hisperson, at the same time, in a manner most convenient to endure theweariness of a patient watch.

"I would my mind were at ease on the question of right-doing in dealingharm to one who disturbs the quiet of a border family," said Dudley, in atone sufficiently repressed for caution; "it may be found prudent tostrike the first blow, should one like an over-sea gallant, after all, beinclined to trouble us at this hour."

"In that strait thou wilt do well to give little heed to the order of theoffences," gloomily returned the other. "Should another messenger ofEngland 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 andmelancholy sound.

"Lip of man is not at the shell!" exclaimed the stranger, who like Dudleyhad made a forward movement towards the postern, the instant the blastreached his ear, and who like Dudley, recoiled in an amazement that evenhis practised self-command could not conceal, as he undeniably perceivedthe truth of that his speech affirmed. "This exceedeth all formerinstances of marvellous visitations!"

"It is vain to pretend to raise the feeble nature of man to the level ofthings coming from the invisible world," returned the woodsman at hisside. "In such a strait, it is seemly that sinful men should withdraw tothe dwellings, where we may sustain our feebleness by the spiritualstrivings of the Captain."

To this discreet proposal the stranger raised no objection. Without takingthe time necessary to effect their retreat with the precaution that hadbeen observed in their advance, the two adventurers quickly foundthemselves at the secret entrance through which they had so lately issued.

"Enter," said the stranger, lowering the piece of the palisado for thepassage of his companion. "Enter, of a Heaven's sake! for it is truly meetthat we assemble all our spiritual succor."

Dudley was in the act of complying, when a dark line, accompanied by a lowrushing sound, cut the air between his head and that of his companion. Atthe next instant, a flint-headed arrow quivered in the timber.

"The heathen!" shouted the borderer, recovering all his manhood as thefamiliar danger became apparent, and throwing back a stream of fire in thedirection from which the treacherous missile had come. "To thepalisadoes, 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 wasgliding across the snow to one knee. "The heathen! the bloody heathenis upon us!"

As if both assailants and assailed paused, one moment of profoundstillness succeeded this fierce interruption of the quiet of the night.Then the cries of the two adventurers were answered by a burst of yellsfrom 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 werefollowed by a cloud of arrows, that rendered further delay without thecover of the palisadoes eminently hazardous. Dudley entered; but thepassage of the stranger would have been cut off, by a leaping, whoopingband 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 safetybehind the ponderous piles of wood.

"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 theWish-Ton-Wish, had been so powerfully exercised that night with a beliefthat the powers of the invisible world were about to be let loose uponthem, the danger had now presented itself in a shape too palpable to admitof further doubt. The cry of 'the heathen' had been raised from every lip;even the daughter and elàve of Ruth repeated it, as they fled wailingthrough the buildings; and, for a moment, terror and surprise appeared toinvolve the assailed in inextricable confusion. But the promptitude of theyoung men in rushing to the rescue, with the steadiness of Content, soonrestored order. Even the females assumed at least the semblance ofcomposure, the family having been too long trained to meet the exigenciesof such an emergency, to be thrown entirely off its guard, for more thanthe first and the most appalling moments of the alarm.

The effect of the sudden repulse was such as all experience had taughtthe Colonists to expect, in their Indian warfare. The uproar of the onsetceased as abruptly as it had commenced, and a calmness so tranquil, and astillness so profound, succeeded, that one who had for the first timewitnessed such a scene, might readily have fancied it the effects of somewild and fearful illusion.

During these moments of general and deep silence, the two adventurers,whose retreat had probably hastened the assault by offering the temptationof 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 beposted, in the event of a summons to the defences.

"Unless much inquiry hath deceived me in the nature of the heathen'scraftiness," said the stranger, "we shall have breathing-time ere theonset be renewed. The experience of a soldier bids me say, that prudencenow urges us to look into the number and position of our foes, that we mayorder our resistance with better understanding of their force."

"In what manner of way may this be done? Thou seest nought about us butthe quiet and the darkness of night. Speak of the number of our enemies wecannot, and sally forth we may not, without certain destruction to all whoquit the palisadoes."

"Thou forgottest that we have a hostage in the boy; he may be turned tosome advantage, if our power over his person be used with discretion."

"I doubt that we deceive ourselves with a hope that is vain," returnedContent, leading the way as he spoke, however, towards the court whichcommunicated with the principal dwelling. "I have closely studied the eyeof that lad, since his unaccountable entrance within the works, and littledo I find there that should teach us to expect confidence. It will behappy if some secret understanding with those without, has not aided himin passing the palisadoes, and that he prove not a dangerous spy on ourforce and movements."

"In regard to that he hath entered the dwelling without sound of conch oraid of postern, be no disturbed," returned the stranger with composure."Were it fitting, this mystery might be of easy explanation; but it maytruly need all our sagacity to discover whether he hath connection withour foes! The mind of a native does not give up its secrets like thesurface of a vanity-feeding mirror."

The stranger, spoke like a man who wrapped a portion of his thoughts inreserve, and his companion listened as one who comprehended more than itmight be seemly or discreet to betray. With this secret and yet equivocalunderstanding of each other's meaning, they entered the dwelling, and soonfound themselves in the presence of those they sought.

The constant danger of their situation had compelled the family tobring themselves within the habits of a methodical and severely-regulatedorder of defense. Duties were assigned, in the event of alarm, to thefeeblest bodies and the faintest hearts; and during the moments whichpreceded the visit of her husband, Ruth had been endeavoring to committo her female subordinates the several necessary charges that usage, andmore particularly the emergency of the hour, appeared so imperiously torequire.

"Hasten, Charity, to the block," she said; "and look into the condition ofthe buckets and the ladders, that should the heathen drive us to itsshelter, provision of water, and means of retreat, be not wanting in ourextremity; and hie thee, Faith, into the upper apartments, to see that nolights may direct their murderous aim at any in the chambers. Thoughtscome 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 thewiles of the enemy by some prudence of our own, thou mayst go forth to thyfather. It would have been tempting Providence too rashly, hadst thourushed, unbidden and uninformed, into the first hurry of the danger. Comehither, child, and receive the blessing and prayers of thy mother: afterwhich thou shalt, with better trust in Providence, place thy young personamong the combatants, in the hope of victory. Remember that thou art nowof an age to do justice to thy name and origin, and yet art thou of yearstoo tender to be foremost in speech, and far less in action, on such anight as this."

A momentary flush, that only served to render the succeeding paleness moreobvious, passed across the brow of the mother. She stooped, and imprinteda kiss on the forehead of the impatient boy, who scarcely waited toreceive this act of tenderness, ere he hurried to place himself in theranks of her defenders.

"And now," said Ruth, slowly turning her eye from the door by which thelad had disappeared, and speaking with a sort of unnatural composure, "andnow 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, thatno neglected light is in the rooms above, take the children to the secretchamber; thence they may look upon the fields, without danger from anychance direction of the savages' aim. Thou knowest, Faith, my frequentteaching in this matter; let no sounds of alarm, nor frightful whoopingsof the people without, cause thee to quit the spot; since thou wilt therebe safer even than in the block, against which many missiles willdoubtless be driven on account of its seeming air of strength. Timelynotice shall be given of the change, should we seek its security. Thouwilt descend, only, shouldst thou see enemies scaling the palisadoes onthe side which overhangs the stream; since there have we the fewest eyesto watch their movements. Remember that on the side of the out-buildingsand of the fields, our force is chiefly posted; there can be less reasontherefore that thou shouldst expose thy lives by endeavoring to look, toocuriously, into that which passeth in the fields. Go, my children; and aheavenly 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 scarcelyless near her heart, being the orphan daughter of one who had been as asister in her affections. But, unlike the kiss she had impressed on theforehead of Mark, the present embraces were hasty, and evidently awakenedless intense emotion. She had committed the boy to a known and positivedanger, but, under the semblance of some usefulness, she sent the othersto a place believed to be even less exposed, so long as the enemy could bekept without the works, than the citadel itself. Still, a feeling of deepand 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 dangersof the wilderness," she solemnly continued. "In thy asking, fail not toremember him to whom thou owest being, and who now exposeth life, that wemay be safe. Thou knowest the Christian's rock; place thy faith on itsfoundation."

"And they who seek to kill us," demanded the well-instructed child; "arethey too of the number of those for whom he died?"

"It may not be doubted, though the manner of the dispensation be somysterious! 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 themost delicate tracery of veins, added lustre to a skin as spotlessly fairas if the warm breezes of that latitude had never fanned the countenanceof 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 darkvisage of the captive Indian youth, who at that moment was to her asubject of secret horror. Unconscious of the interest he excited, the ladstood calm, haughty, and seemingly unobservant, cautious to let no sign ofweakness or of concern escape him, in this scene of womanly emotion.

"Mother," whispered the still wondering child; "may we not let him go intothe forest? I do not love to--"

"This is no time for speech. Go to thy hiding-place, my child, andremember both thy askings and the cautions I have named. Go, and heavenlycare protect thy innocent head!"

Ruth again stooped, and bowing her face until the features were lost inthe rich tresses of her daughter, a moment passed during which there wasan eloquent silence. When she arose, a tear glistened on the cheek of thechild. 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 ofher mother, it was with an eye that never bent its riveted gaze from thefeatures of the young Indian, until the intervening walls hid him entirelyfrom her sight.

"Thou hast been thoughtful and like thyself, my good Ruth," said Content,who at that moment entered, and who rewarded the self-command of his wifeby a look of the kindest approbation. "The youths have not been moreprompt in meeting the foe at the stockades, than thy maidens in looking totheir 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, inthe block."

"It is not needful," interrupted the stranger. "Time presses, for thiscalm may be too shortly succeeded by a tempest that all our power shallnot quell. Bring forth the captive."

Content signed to the boy to approach, and when he was in reach of hishand, he placed him full before the stranger.

"I know not thy name, nor yet even that of thy people," commenced thelatter, after a long pause in which he seemed to study deeply thecountenance of the lad; "but certain am I, though a more wicked spirit maystill be struggling for the mastery in thy wild mind, that nobleness offeeling is no stranger to thy bosom. Speak; hast thou aught to impartconcerning the danger that besets this family? I have learned much thisnight from thy manner, but to be clearly understood, it is now time thatthou shouldst speak in words."

The youth kept his eye fastened on that of the speaker, until the otherhad ended, and then he bent it slowly, but with searching observation, onthe anxious countenance of Ruth. It seemed as if he balanced between hispride and his sympathies. The latter prevailed; for, conquering the deepreluctance of an Indian, he spoke openly, and for the first time, sincehis captivity, in the language of the hated race.

"I hear the whoops of warriors," was his calm answer. "Have the ears ofthe pale men been shut?"

"Thou hast spoken with the young men of thy tribe in the forest, and thouhadst knowledge of this onset?"

The youth made no reply, though the keen look of his interrogator was metsteadily, and without fear. Perceiving that he had demanded more thanwould be answered, the stranger changed his mode of investigation, maskinghis 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, likebending reeds! 'Tis a Pequot who hath broken faith with a Christian, andwho is now abroad, prowling as a wolf in the night."

A sudden and wild expression gleamed over the swarthy features of theboy. His lips moved, and the words that issued from between them wereuttered in the tones of biting scorn. Still he rather muttered thanpronounced aloud--

"The Pequot is a dog!"

"It is as I had thought; the knaves are out of their villages, that theYengeese may feed their squaws. But a Narragansett, or a Wampanoag, is aman; he scorns to lurk in the darkness. When he comes, the sun will lighthis path. The Pequot steals in silence, for he fears that the warriorswill hear his tread."

It was not easy to detect any evidence that the captive listened, eitherto the commendation or the censure, with answering sympathy; for marble isnot colder that were the muscles of his unmoved countenance.

The stranger studied the expression of his features in vain, and drawingso near as to lay his hand on the naked shoulder of the lad, headded--"Boy, thou hast heard much moving matter concerning the nature ofour Christian faith, and thou hast been the subject of many a ferventasking; it may not be that so much good seed hath been altogetherscattered by the way-side! Speak; may I again trust thee?"

"Let my father look on the snow. The print of the moccasin goes andcomes."

"It is true. Thus far hast thou proved honest; but when the war-whoopshall be thrilling through thy young blood, the temptation to join thewarriors may be too strong. Hast any gage, any pledge, in which we mayfind warranty for letting thee depart?"

The boy regarded his interrogator with a look that plainly denotedignorance of his meaning.

"I would know what thou canst leave with me, to show that our eyes shallagain look upon thy face, when we have opened the gate for thy passageinto 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 awarranty of its truth. What canst offer, that I may know thou wilt returnfrom 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 wayit leads."

The captive now understood the meaning of the other's doubts, but, asif disdaining to reply, he bent his eyes aside, and stood in one ofthose immovable attitudes which so often gave him the air of a piece ofdark statuary.

Content and his wife had listened to this short dialogue, in a manner toprove that they possessed some secret knowledge, which lessened the wonderthey might otherwise have felt, at witnessing so obvious proofs of asecret acquaintance between the speakers. Both however manifestedunequivocal signs of astonishment, when they first heard English soundsissuing from the lips of the boy. There was, at least, the semblance ofhope in the mediation of one who had received, and who had appeared toacknowledge, so much kindness from herself; and Ruth clung to the cheeringexpectation with the quickness of maternal care.

"Let the boy depart," she said. "I will be his hostage; and should heprove false, there can be less to fear in his absence than in hispresence."

The obvious truth of the latter assertion probably weighed more with thestranger than the unmeaning pledge of the woman.

"There is reason in this," he resumed. "Go, then, into the fields, and sayto thy people that they have mistaken the path; that, they are on, hathled them to the dwelling of a friend--Here are no Pequots, nor any of themen of the Manhattoes; but Christian Yengeese, who have long dealt withthe Indian as one just man dealeth with another. Go, and when thy signalshall 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, asthey left the room together, to instruct him in all such minor matters asmight assist in effecting the pacific object of the mission on which hewas employed.

A few minutes of doubt and of fearful suspense succeeded this experiment.The stranger, after seeing that egress was permitted to his messenger, hadreturned to the dwelling, and rejoined his companions. He passed themoments in pacing the apartment, with the strides of one in whom powerfulconcern was strongly at work. At times, the sound of his heavy footstepceased, and then all listened intently, in order to catch any sound thatmight instruct them in the nature of the scene that was passing without.In the midst of one of these pauses, a yell like that of savage delightarose in the fields. It was succeeded by the death-like and portentouscalm, which had rendered the time since the momentary attack even morealarming than when the danger had a positive and known character. But allthe attention the most intense anxiety could now lend, furnished noadditional clue to the movement of their foes. For many minutes, the quietof midnight reigned both within and without the defences. In the midst ofthis suspense, the latch of the door was lifted, and their messengerappeared with that noiseless tread and collected mien which distinguishthe 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 inthe 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 oneready to breast a more severe shock. "Thou hast men for thy listeners. Isthe pipe of the savage filled? Will he smoke in peace, or holdeth he thetomahawk in a clenched hand?"

The countenance the boy worked with a feeling that it was not usual for anIndian to betray. He bent his look, with concern, on the mild eyes of theanxious Ruth; then drawing a hand slowly from beneath the light robe thatpartly covered his body, he cast at the feet of the stranger a bundle ofarrows, wrapped in the glossy and striped skin of the rattlesnake.

"This is warning we may not misconceive!" said Content, raising thewell-known emblem of ruthless hostility to the light, and exhibiting itbefore the eyes of his less-instructed companion. "Boy, what have thepeople of my race done, that thy warriors should seek their blood, to thisextremity?"

When the boy had discharged his duty, he moved aside, and appearedunwilling to observe the effect which his message might produce on hiscompanions. But thus questioned, all gentle feelings were near beingforgotten, in the sudden force of passion. A hasty glance at Ruth quelledthe 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 itscarcely more brilliant, than was the gleam that shot into the dark eyeof the Indian. The organ seemed to emit rays coruscant as the glance ofthe serpent. His form appeared to swell with the inward strivings ofthe spirit, and for a moment there was every appearance of a fierce anduncontrollable burst of ferocious passion. The conquest of feeling was,however, but momentary. He regained his self-command by a surprisingeffort of the will, and advancing so near to him who had asked thisbold question, as to lay a finger on his breast, the young savagehaughtily said--

"See! this world is very wide. There is room on it for the panther and thedeer. 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 aidof the Christian's staff, will we beat back their power. Prudencerequireth at our hands, that the lad be secured; after which, will werepair to the stockades and prove ourselves men."

Against this proposal no reasonable objection could be raised. Contentwas about to secure the person of his captive in a cellar, when asuggestion of his wife caused him to change his purpose. Notwithstandingthe sudden and fierce mien of the youth, there had been such anintelligence created between them by looks of kindness and interest, thatthe mother was reluctant to abandon all hope of his aid.

"Miantonimoh!" she said, "though others distrust thy purpose, I willhave confidence. Come, then, with me; and while I give thee promise ofsafety in thine own person, I ask at thy hands the office of a protectorfor my babes."

The boy made no reply; but as he passively followed his conductress to thechambers, Ruth fancied she read assurance of his faith, in the expressionof his eloquent eye. At the same moment, her husband and Submission leftthe house, to take their stations at the palisadoes.

"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, wasin the attic, and, as already stated, on the side of the building whichfaced the stream that ran at the foot of the hill. It had a singleprojecting window, through which there was a view of the forest and of thefields on that side of the valley. Small openings in its sides admittedalso of glimpses of the grounds which lay further in the rear. In additionto the covering of the roofs, and of the massive frame-work of thebuilding, an interior partition of timber protected the place against theentrance of most missiles then known in the warfare of the country. Duringthe 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 familyto trust themselves, at night, in situations more convenient, and whichwere believed to be no less equally secure against surprise.

"I know thee to be one who feeleth the obligations of a warrior," saidRuth, as she ushered her follower into the presence of the children. "Thouwilt 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 inthine own hour of necessity!"

The boy made no reply, but in a gentle expression which was visible in hisdark visage, the mother endeavored to find the pledge she sought. Then, asthe youth, with the delicacy of his race, moved aside in order that theywho were bound to each other by ties so near might indulge their feelingswithout observation, Ruth again drew near her offspring, with all thetenderness of a mother beaming in her eyes.

"Once more I bid thee not to look too curiously at the fearful strife thatmay arise in front of our habitations," she said. "The heathen is trulyupon us, with bloody mind; young, as well as old, must now show faith inthe protection of our master, and such courage as befitteth believers."

"And why is it, mother," demanded her child, "that they seek to do usharm? have we ever done evil to them?"

"I may not say. He that hath made the earth hath given it to us for ouruses, and reason would seem to teach that if portions of its surface arevacant, he that needeth truly, may occupy."

"The savage!" whispered the child, nestling still nearer to the bosom ofher stooping parent. "His eye glittereth like the star which hangs abovethe trees."

"Peace, daughter; his fierce nature broodeth over some fancied wrong!"

"Surely, we are here rightfully. I have heard my father say, that when theLord made me a present to his arms, our valley was a tangled forest, andthat much toil only has made it as it is."

"I hope that what we enjoy, we enjoy rightfully! And yet it seemeth thatthe savage is ready to deny our claims."

"And where do these bloody enemies dwell? have they, too, valleys likethis, 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 ourmanner of life. Woman is not cherished as among the people of thy father'srace, for force of body is more regarded than kinder ties."

The little auditor shuddered, and when she buried her face deeper in thebosom of her parent, it was with a more quickened sense of maternalaffection, and with a livelier view, than her infant perception had everyet known, of the gentle charities of kindred. When she had spoken, thematron 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 theperformance of duties that called for the exhibition of very differentqualities. Before quitting the room, however, she once more approached theboy, and, holding the light before his steady eye, she said solemnly--

"I trust my babes to the keeping of a young warrior!"

The look he returned was like the others, cold but not discouraging. Agaze of many moments elicited no reply; and Ruth prepared to quit theplace, troubled by uncertainty concerning the intentions of the guardianshe left with the girls, while she still trusted that the many acts ofkindness which she had shown him, during his captivity, would not gowithout their reward. Her hand rested on the bolt of the door, inindecision. The moment was favorable to the character of the youth, forshe recalled the manner of his return that night, no less than his formeracts 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 thehideous cries and yells of a savage onset. Drawing the bolt, the startledwoman descended, without further thought, and rushed to her post, with thehurry of one who saw only the necessity of exertion in another scene.

"Stand to the timbers, Reuben Ring! Bear back the skulking murderers ontheir bloody followers! The pikes! Here, Dudley is opening for thy valor.The Lord have mercy on the souls of the ignorant heathen!" mingled withthe reports of musketry, the whoops of the warriors, the whizzing ofbullets and arrows, with all the other accompaniments of such a contest,were the fearful sounds that saluted the senses of Ruth as she issued intothe court. The valley was occasionally lighted by the explosion offire-arms, and then, at times, the horrible din prevailed in the gloom ofdeep darkness. Happily, in the midst of all this, confusion and violence,the young men of the valley were true to their duties. An alarming attemptto scale the stockade had already been repulsed, and, the true characterof two or three feints having been ascertained, the principal force of thegarrison was now actively employed in resisting the main attack.

"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 ownconcerns, 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 anyof our people should be stricken?"

"It hath pleased the Devil," returned Eben Dudley, somewhat irreverentlyfor one of that chastened school, "to send an Indian arrow through jerkinand skin, into this arm of mine! Softly, Faith; dost think, girl, thatthe covering of man is like the coat of a sheep, from which the fleecemay be plucked at will! I am no moulting fowl, nor is this arrow afeather of my wing. The Lord forgive the rogue for the ill turn he hathdone my flesh, say I, and amen like a Christian! he will have occasiontoo for the mercy, seeing he hath nothing further to hope for in thisworld. Now, Faith, I acknowledge the debt of thy kindness, and let therebe no more cutting speech between us. Thy tongue often pricketh moresorely 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 maidenin the Colony is wont to render gentler answer. Dost feel uneasiness inthine arm, Dudley?"

"'Tis not tickling with a straw, to drive a flint-headed arrow to thebone! 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 onpretence of a broken skin, and the savage at our gates? A fine characterwill the Madam render of thy deeds, when the other youths have beaten backthe Indian, and thou loitering among the buildings!"

The discomfited borderer was about to curse in his heart the versatilehumor of his mistress, when he saw, by a side-glance, that ears which hadno concern in the subject, had liked to have shared in the matter of theirdiscourse. Seizing the weapon which was leaning against the foundation ofthe block, he hurried past the mistress of the family, and, in anotherminute, his voice and his musket were again heard ringing in the uproar.

"Does he bring tidings from the palisadoes?" repeated Ruth, too anxiousthat the young man should return to his post, to arrest his retreat. "Whatsaith he of the onset?"

"The savage hath suffered for his boldness, and little harm hath yet cometo our people. Except that yon block of a man hath managed to put armbefore the passage of an arrow, I know not that any of our people havebeen harmed."

"Hearken! they retire, Ruth. The yells are less near, and our young menwill prevail! Go thou to thy charge among the piles of the fuel, and seethat no lurker remaineth to do injury. The Lord hath remembered mercy, andit 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 wasgradually receding from the works, and though the flashings of the musketsand the bellowing reports that rang in the surrounding forest were notless frequent than before, it was plain that the critical moment of theonset was already past. In place of the fierce effort to carry the placeby surprise, the savages had now resorted to means that were moremethodical, and which, though not so appalling in appearance, were perhapsquite as certain of final success. Ruth profited by a momentary cessationin the flight of the missiles, to seek those in whose welfare she hadplaced her chief concern.

"Has other, than brave Dudley, suffered by this assault?" demanded theanxious wife, as she passed swiftly among a group of dusky figures thatwere collected in consultation, on the brow of the declivity; "has anyneed of such care as a woman's hand may bestow? Heathcote, thy person isunharmed!"

"Truly, one of great mercy hath watched over it, for little opportunityhath been given to look to our own safety. I fear that some of our youngmen have not regarded the covers with the attention that prudencerequires."

"The thoughtless Mark hath not forgotten my admonitions! Boy, thou hastnever 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 ringingamong the timbers of the palisadoes, mother," returned the boy, dashinghis hand across his brow, in order that the drops of blood which weretrickling from a furrow left by the passage of an arrow, might not beseen. "I have kept near my father, but whether in his front or in hisrear, 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 wesee gleaming among the sheds? A sortie may be needed, to save thegranaries and thy folds from destruction!"

"To the barns! to the barns!" shouted two of the youths, from theirseveral look-outs. "The brand is in the buildings!" exclaimed a maidenwho discharged a similar duty under cover of the dwellings. Thenfollowed a discharge of muskets, all of which were levelled at theglancing light that was glaring in fearful proximity to the combustiblematerials which filled the most of the out-buildings. A savage yell, andthe sudden extinguishment of the blazing knot, announced the fatalaccuracy of the aim.

"This may not be neglected!" exclaimed Content, moved to extraordinaryexcitement 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 assuddenly lighted, as if a torrent of the electric fluid had flashedacross its gloomy bed; a sheet of flame glanced from the attic of theblock, and then came the roar of the little piece of artillery, which hadso 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 themomentary light, gliding from among the out-buildings, in an alarmnatural to their ignorance, and with an agility proportioned to theiralarm. The moment was propitious. Content silently motioned to ReubenRing; they passed the postern together, and disappeared in the directionof the barns. The period of their absence was one of intense care toRuth, and it was not without its anxiety even to those whose nerves werebetter steeled. A few moments, however, served to appease these feelings;for the adventurers returned in safety, and as silently as they hadquitted the defences. The trampling of feet on the crust of the snow, theneighing of horses, and the bellowing of frightened cattle, as theterrified beasts scattered about the fields, soon proclaimed the objectof 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 livingcreature 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 his expedition; for,even while he spoke, half-concealed torches, made as usual of blazingknots of pine, were again seen glancing across the fields, evidentlyapproaching the out-buildings by such indirect and covered paths, as mightprotect those who bore them from the shot of the garrison. A final andcommon effort was made to arrest the danger. The muskets of the young menwere active, and more than once did the citadel of the stern old Puritangive forth its flood of flame, in order to beat back the dangerousvisitants. A few shrieks of savage disappointment and of bodily anguish,announced the success of these discharges; but, though most of those whoapproached the barns were either driven back in fear, or suffered fortheir temerity, one among them, more wary or more practised than hiscompanions, found means to effect his object. The firing had ceased, andthe besieged were congratulating themselves on success, when a suddenlight glared across the fields. A sheet of flame soon came curling overthe crest of a wheat-stack, and quickly wrapped the inflammable materialin its fierce torrent. Against this destruction there remained no remedy.The barns and inclosures which, so lately, had been lying in the darknessof the hour, were instantly illuminated, and life would have been thepenalty paid by any of either party, who should dare to trust his personwithin the bright glare. The borderers were soon compelled to fall back,even within the shadows of the hill, and to seek such covers as thestockades 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 withall men;" said Content to the trembler who convulsively grasped his arm,as the flame whirled in the currents of the heated air, and, sweeping onceor twice across the roof of a shed, left a portion of its torrent creepinginsidiously along the wooden covering. "The in-gathering of a blessedseason is about to melt into ashes, before the brand of these accur----"

"Peace, Heathcote! What is wealth, or the fulness of thy granaries, tothat which remains? Check these repinings of thy spirit, and bless Godthat he leaveth us our babes, and the safety of our inner roofs."

"Thou sayest truly," returned the husband, endeavoring to imitate the meekresignation of his companion. "What indeed are the gifts of the world, setin the balance against the peace of mind--ha! that evil blast of windsealeth the destruction of our harvest! The fierce element is in the heartof the granaries."

Ruth made no reply, for though less moved by worldly cares than herhusband, the frightful progress of the conflagration alarmed her with asense of personal danger. The flames had passed from roof to roof, andmeeting everywhere with fuel of the most combustible nature, the whole ofthe vast range of barns, sheds, granaries, cribs and out-buildings, wasjust breaking forth in the brightness of a torrent of fire. Until thismoment, suspense, with hope on one side and apprehension on the other, hadkept both parties mute spectators of the scene. But yells of triumph soonproclaimed the delight with which the Indians witnessed the completion oftheir fell design. The whoops followed this burst of pleasure, and a thirdonset was made.

The combatants now fought under a brightness which, though less natural,was scarcely less brilliant than that of noon-day. Stimulated by theprospect of success, which was offered by the conflagration, the savagesrushed upon the stockade with more audacity than it was usual to displayin their cautious warfare. A broad shadow was cast, by the hill and itsbuildings, across the fields on the side opposite to the flames, andthrough this belt of comparative gloom, the fiercest of the band madetheir way to the very palisadoes, with impunity. Their presence wasannounced by the yell of delight, for too many curious eyes had beendrinking in the fearful beauty of the conflagration, to note theirapproach, until the attack had nearly proved successful. The rushes to thedefence, and to the attack, were now alike quick and headlong. Volleyswere useless, for the timbers offered equal security to both assailant andassailed. It was a struggle of hand to hand, in which numbers would haveprevailed, had it not been the good fortune of the weaker party to act onthe defensive. Blows of the knife were passed swiftly between the timbers,and occasionally the discharge of the musket, or the twanging of the bowwas heard.

"Stand to the timbers, my men!" said the deep tones of the stranger, whospoke in the midst of the fierce struggle with that commanding andstirring 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 somejeopardy to one hand, a thrust aimed at his throat, while with the otherhe seized the warrior who had inflicted the blow, and drawing his nakedbreast, with the power of a giant, full against the opening between thelimbers, he buried his own keen blade to its haft in the body. The eyes ofthe victim rolled wildly, and when the iron hand which bound him to thewood, with the power of a vice, loosened its grasp, he fell motionless onthe 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 individuals of his force, with an anxious eye, when allwere again assembled at the stand on the hill, where, favored by theglaring light, they could overlook, in comparative security, the moreexposed parts of their defences. "We count our own, though I fear me, manymay have suffered."

The silence and the occupations of his listeners, most of whom werestanching their blood, was a sufficient answer.

"Hist, father!" said the quick-eyed and observant Mark; "one remaineth onthe palisado nearest the wicket. Is it a savage? or do I see a stump, inthe field beyond?"

All eyes followed the direction of the hand of the speaker, and there wasseen, of a certainty, something clinging to the inner side of one of thetimbers, that bore a marked resemblance to the human form. The part of thestockades, where the seeming figure clung, lay more in obscurity than therest of the defences, and doubts as to its character were not aloneconfined to the quick-sighted lad who had first detected its presence.

"Who hangs upon our palisadoes?" called Eben Dudley. "Speak, that we donot harm a friend!"

The wood itself was not more immovable than the dark object, until thereport of the borderer's musket was heard, and then it came tumbling tothe earth like an insensible mass.

"Fallen like a stricken bear from his tree! Life was in it, or no bulletof mine could have loosened the hold!" exclaimed Dudley, a little inexultation 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, whocalmly observed--

"I will look into the fate of the heathen, myself." He was about toproceed to the spot, when the supposed dead, or wounded man, sprang to hisfeet, with a yell that rang in echoes along the margin of the forest, andbounded towards the cover of the buildings, with high and active leaps.Two or three muskets sent their streaks of flame across his path, butseemingly without success. Jumping in a manner to elude the certainty oftheir fire, the unharmed savage gave forth another yell of triumph, anddisappeared among the angles of the dwellings. His cries were understood,for answering whoops were heard in the fields, and the foe without againrallied to the attack.

"This may not be neglected," said he who, more by his self-possession andair of authority, than by any known right to command, had insensiblyassumed so much authority in the important business of that night. "Onelike this, within our walls, may quickly bring destruction on thegarrison. The postern may be opened to an inroad----"

"A triple lock secures it," interrupted Content. "The key is hid wherenone know to seek it, other than such as are of our household."

"And happily the means of passing the private wicket are in mypossession," muttered the other, in an under tone. "So far, well; but thebrand! the brand! the maidens must look to the fires and lights, whilethe youths make good the stockade, since this assault admitteth not offurther delay."

So saying, the stranger gave an example of courage by proceeding to hisstand at the pickets, where, supported by his companions, he continued todefend the approaches against a discharge of arrows and bullets that wasmore distant, but scarcely less dangerous to the safety of those whoshowed themselves on the side of the acclivity, than those which had beenpreviously showered upon the garrison.

In the mean time, Ruth summoned her assistants, and hastened to dischargethe duty which had just been prescribed. Water was cast freely on all thefires, and, as the still raging conflagration continued to give far morelight than was either necessary or safe, care was taken to extinguish anytorch or candle that, in the hurry of alarm, might have been left tomoulder in its socket, throughout the extensive range of the dwellings andthe offices.

"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 severallook-outs; and Ruth, whose duty it was in moments of danger to exercise ageneral superintendence, was left to her meditations and to suchwatchfulness as her fears might excite. Quitting the inner rooms, sheapproached the door that communicated with the court, and for a momentlost the recollection of her immediate cares in a view of the imposingscene by which she was surrounded.

By this time, the whole of the vast range of out-buildings, which had beenconstructed, as was usual in the Colonies, of the most combustiblematerials and with no regard to the expenditure of wood, was wrapt infire. Notwithstanding the position of the intermediate edifices, broadflashes of light were constantly crossing the court itself, on whosesurface she was able to distinguish the smallest object, while the heavensabove her were glaring with a lurid red. Through the openings between thebuildings the quadrangle, the eye could look out upon the fields, whereshe saw every evidence of a sullen intention on the part of the savages topersevere in their object. Dark, fierce-looking, and nearly naked humanforms were seen flitting from cover to cover while there was no stump norlog within arrow's-flight of the defences, that did not protect the personof a daring and indefatigable enemy. It was plain the Indians were therein hundreds, and as the assaults continued after the failure of asurprise, it was too evident that they were bent on victory, at somehazard to themselves. No usual means of adding to the horrors of the scenewere neglected. Whoops and yells were incessantly ringing around theplace, while the loud and often-repeated tones of a conch betrayed theartifice by which the savages had so often endeavored, in the earlier partof the night, to lure the garrison out of the palisadoes. A few scatteringshot, discharged with deliberation and from every exposed point within theworks, proclaimed both the coolness and the vigilance of the defendants.The little gun in the block-house was silent, for the Puritan knew toowell its real power to lessen its reputation by a too frequent use Theweapon was therefore reserved for those moments of pressing danger thatwould be sure to arrive.

On this spectacle Ruth gazed in fearful sadness. The long-sustained andsylvan security of her abode was violently destroyed; and in the place ofa quiet which had approached as near as may be on earth to that holy peacefor which her spirit strove, she and all she most loved were suddenlyconfronted to the most frightful exhibition of human horrors. In such amoment, the feelings of a mother were likely to revive; and ere time wasgiven for reflection, aided by the light of the conflagration, the matronwas moving swiftly through the intricate passages of the dwelling, inquest of those whom she had placed in the security of the chambers.

"Thou hast remembered to avoid looking on the fields, my children," saidthe nearly breathless woman as she entered the room. "Be thankful, babes;hitherto the efforts of the savages have been vain and we still remainmasters of our habitations."

"Why is the night so red? Come hither, mother thou mayest look into thewood as if the sun were shining!"

"The heathens have fired our granaries, and what thou seest is the lightof the flames. But happily they cannot put brand into the dwellings, whilethy father and the young men stand to their weapons. We must be gratefulfor this security, frail as it seemeth. Thou hast knelt, my Ruth; and hastremembered 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 thineeyes to Heaven with confidence."

"Mother, I see the Indian, unless my face be hid. He looketh at me, Ifear, with wish to do us harm."

"Thou art not just to Miantonimoh, child," answered Ruth, as she glancedher eye rapidly round to seek the boy, who had modestly withdrawn into aremote and shaded corner of the room. "I left him with thee for aguardian, 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 herdaughter, "and have reliance in his goodness. Miantonimoh, I again leaveyou with a charge, to be their protector," she added, quitting herdaughter and advancing towards the youth.

"Mother!" shrieked the child, "come to me, or I die!"

Ruth turned from the listening captive, with the quickness of instinct. Aglance showed her the jeopardy of her offspring. A naked savage, dark,powerful of frame, and fierce in the frightful masquerade of hiswar-paint, stood winding the silken hair of the girl in one hand, while healready held the glittering axe above a head that seemed inevitablydevoted to destruction.

"Mercy! mercy!" exclaimed Ruth, hoarse with horror, and dropping to herknees, 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 waswith an expression that seemed rather to enumerate the number of hisvictims, than to announce any change of purpose. With a fiend-likecoolness, that bespoke much knowledge of the ruthless practice, he againswung the quivering but speechless child in the air, and prepared todirect the weapon with a fell certainty of aim. The tomahawk had made itslast circuit, and an instant would have decided the fate of the victim,when the captive boy stood in front of the frightful actor in thisrevolting scene. By a quick, forward movement of his arm, the blow wasarrested. The deep guttural ejaculation, which betrays the surprise of anIndian, broke from the chest of the savage, while his hand fell to hisside, and the form of the suspended girl was suffered again to touch thefloor. The look and gesture with which the boy had interfered, expressedauthority 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 hadsprung; "the warriors of the pale men are calling thee by name."

"The snow is red with the blood of our young men," the other fiercelyanswered; "and not a scalp is at the belt of my people."

"These are mine," returned the boy with dignity, sweeping his arm, whilespeaking, in a manner to show that he extended protection to all present.

The warrior gazed about him grimly, and like one but half-convinced. Hehad incurred a danger too fearful, in entering the stockade, to be easilydiverted from his purpose.

"Listen!" he continued, after a short pause, during which the artillery ofthe Puritan had again bellowed in the uproar, without. "The thunder iswith the Yengeese! Our young women will look another way and call usPequots, should there be no scalps on our pole."

For a single moment, the countenance of the boy changed, and hisresolution seemed to waver. The other, who watched his eyes with longingeagerness, again seized his victim by the hair, when Ruth shrieked in theaccents 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 glaringeye-balls of the savage rested intently on the swelling form and sterncountenance of the young hero, whose uplifted hand appeared to menaceinstant punishment, should he dare to disregard the mediation. The lips ofthe warrior severed, and the word 'Miantonimoh' was uttered as softly asif it recalled a feeling of sorrow. Then, as a sudden burst of yells roseabove the roar of the conflagration, the fierce Indian turned in histracks, and, abandoning the trembling and nearly insensible child, hebounded away like a hound loosened on a fresh scent of blood.

"Boy! boy!" murmured the mother; "heathen or Christian, there is one thatwill bless thee!--"

A rapid gesture of the hand interrupted the fervent expression ofher gratitude. Pointing after the form of the retreating savage, thelad encircled his own head with a finger, in a manner that could notbe mistaken, as he uttered steadily, but with the deep emphasis ofan Indian--

"The young Pale-face has a scalp!"

Ruth heard no more. With instinctive rapidity, every feeling of her soulquickened nearly to agony, she rushed below, in order to warn Mark againstthe machinations of so fearful an enemy. Her step was heard but for amoment in the vacant chambers, and then the Indian boy, whose steadinessand authority had just been so signally exerted in favor of the children,resumed his attitude of meditation, as quietly as if he took no furtherinterest in the frightful events of the night.

The situation of the garrison was now, indeed, to the last degreecritical. A torrent of fire had passed from the further extremity of theout-houses to that which stood nearest to the defences, and, as buildingafter building melted beneath its raging power, the palisadoes becameheated nearly to the point of ignition. The alarm created by this imminentdanger had already been given, and, when Ruth issued into the court, afemale was rushing past her, seemingly on some errand of the lastnecessity.

"Hast seen him?" demanded the breathless mother, arresting the steps ofthe quick-moving girl."Not since the savage made his last onset, but I warrant me he may befound near the western loops, making good the works against the enemy!"

"Surely he is not foremost in the fray! Of whom speakest thou, Faith? Iquestioned thee of Mark. There is one, even now, raging within thepickets seeking a victim."

"Truly, I thought it had been question of----the boy is with his fatherand the stranger soldier who does such deeds of valor in our behalf. Ihave seen no enemy within the palisadoes, Madam Heathcote, since the entryof the man who escaped, by favor of the powers of darkness, from the shotof Eben Dudley's musket."

"And is this evil like to pass from us," resumed Ruth, breathing morefreely, as she learned the safety of her son; "or does Providence veil itsface in anger?"

"We keep our own, though the savage hath pressed the young men toextremity. 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, theyouth hath done marvels in the way of exposure and resistance. Twentytimes this night have I expected to see him slain."

"And he that lyeth there?" half-whispered the alarmed Ruth, pointing toa spot near them, where, aside from the movements of those who stillacted in the bustle of the combat, one lay stretched on the earth--"whohath fallen?"

The cheek of Faith blanched to a whiteness that nearly equalled that ofthe linen, which, even in the hurry of such a scene, some friendly handhad found leisure to throw, in decent sadness, over the form.

"That!" said the faltering girl; "though hurt and bleeding, my brotherReuben surely keepeth the loop at the western angle; nor is Whittalwanting in sufficient sense to take heed of danger--This may not be thestranger, for under the covers of the postern breast-work he holdethcounsel with the young captain."

"Art certain, girl?"

"I saw them both within the minute. Would to God we could hear the shoutof noisy Dudley, Madam Heathcote: his cry cheereth the heart, in a momentawful as this!"

"Lift the cloth," said Ruth with calm solemnity, "that we may know whichof our friends hath been called to the great account."

Faith hesitated, and when, by a powerful effort, in which secret interesthad as deep an influence as obedience, she did comply, it was with a sortof desperate resolution. On raising the linen, the eyes of the two womenrested on the pallid countenance of one who had been transfixed by aniron-headed arrow. The girl dropped the linen, and in a voice that soundedlike a burst of hysterical feeling, she exclaimed--

"'Tis but the youth that came lately among us! We are spared the loss ofany ancient friend."

"Tis one who died for our safety. I would give largely of this world'scomforts, that this calamity might not have been, or that greater leisurefor the last fearful reckoning had been accorded. But we may not lose themoments in mourning. Hie thee, girl, and sound the alarm that a savagelurketh 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 himtwice of this danger; the child hath a froward spirit, and may not hearkento words uttered in too great hurry."

With this charge, Ruth quitted her maiden. While the latter proceeded togive the necessary notice, the other sought the spot where she had justlearned there was reason to believe her husband might be found.

Content and the stranger were in fact met in consultation over the dangerwhich threatened destruction to their most important means of defence. Thesavages themselves appeared to be conscious that the flames were workingin their favour; for their efforts sensibly slackened, and having alreadyseverely suffered in their attempts to annoy the garrison, they had fallenback to their covers, and awaited the moment when their practised cunningshould tell them they might, with more flattering promises of success,again, rally to the onset. A brief explanation served to make Ruthacquainted with the imminent jeopardy of their situation. Under a sense ofa more appalling danger, she lost the recollection of her former purpose,and with a contracted and sorrowing eye, she stood like her companions, inimpotent helplessness, an entranced spectator of the progress of thedestruction.

"A soldier should not waste words in useless plaints," observed thestranger, folding his arms like one who was conscious that human effortcould do no more, "else should I say, 'tis pity that he who drew yon lineof 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 longendure the heat of yon glowing furnace. Thou seest that the timbersalready smoke and blacken, under its fierceness."

The stranger was still speaking, when a small quivering flame played onthe corners of the palisado nearest the burning pile. The elementfluttered like a waving line along the edges of the heated wood, afterwhich it spread over the whole surface of the timber, from its larger baseto the pointed summit. As if this had merely been the signal of a generaldestruction, the flames kindled in fifty places at the same instant, andthen the whole line of the stockade, nearest the conflagration, wascovered with fire. A yell of triumph arose in the fields, and a flight ofarrows, sailing tauntingly into the works, announced the fierce impatienceof 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 ina new aspect!"

The feet of Ruth were arrested. On looking upward, she saw the objectwhich had drawn this remark from the last speaker. A small bright ball offire had arisen out of the fields, and, describing an arc in the air, itsailed above their heads and fell on the shingles of a building whichformed part of the quadrangle of the inner court. The movement was that ofan arrow thrown from a distant bow, and its way was to be traced by a longtrail of light, that followed its course like a blazing meteor. Thisburning arrow had been sent with a cool and practised judgment. It lightedupon a portion of the combustibles that were nearly as inflammable asgunpowder, 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 thestranger was placed firmly on his shoulder. At that instant, a dozensimilar meteor-looking balls shot into the air, and fell in as manydifferent places on the already half-kindled pile. Further efforts wouldhave been useless. Relinquishing the hope of saving his property, everythought was now given to personal safety.

Ruth recovered from her short trance, and hastened with hurried steps toperform her well-known office. Then came a few minutes of exertion, duringwhich the females transferred all that was necessary to their subsistence,and which had not been already provided in the block, to their littlecitadel. The glowing light, which penetrated the darkest passages amongthe buildings, prevented this movement from being made without discovery.The whoop summoned their enemies to another attack. The arrows thickenedin the air, and the important duty was not performed without risk, as allwere obliged, in some degree, to expose their persons, while passing toand fro, loaded with necessaries. The gathering smoke, however, served insome measure for a screen; and it was not long before Content received thewelcome tidings that he might command the retreat of his young men fromthe palisadoes. The conch sounded the necessary signal, and ere the foehad time to understand its meaning, or profit by the defenceless state ofthe works, every individual within them had reached the door of the blockin safety. Still, there was more of hurry and confusion than altogethercomported with their safety. They who were assigned to that duty, however,mounted eagerly to the loops, and stood in readiness to pour out theirfire on whoever might dare to come within its reach, while a few stilllingered in the court, to see that no necessary provision for resistance,or of safety, was forgotten. Ruth had been foremost in exertion, and shenow stood pressing her hands to her temples, like one whose mind wasbewildered by her own efforts.

"Our fallen friend!" she said. "Shall we leave his remains to be mangledby the savage?"

"Surely not; Dudley, thy hand. We will bear the body within the lower--ha!death hath struck another of our family."

The alarm with which Content made this discovery passed quickly to all inhearing. It was but too apparent, by the shape of the linen, that twobodies lay beneath its folds. Anxious and rapid looks were cast from faceto face, in order to learn who was missing; and then, conscious of thehazard of further delay, Content raised the linen, in order to remove alldoubts by certainty. The form of the young borderer, who was known to havefallen, was first slowly and reverently uncovered; but even the mostself-restrained among the spectators started back in horror, as his robbedand reeking head showed that a savage hand had worked its ruthless will onthe unresisting corpse.

"The other!" Ruth struggled to say, and it was only as her husband hadhalf removed the linen that she could succeed in uttering thewords--"Beware the other!"

The warning was not useless, for the linen waved violently as it roseunder the hand of Content, and a grim Indian sprang into the very centreof the startled group. Sweeping his armed hand widely about him, thesavage broke through the receding circle, and, giving forth the appallingwhoop of his tribe, he bounded into the open door of the principaldwelling, so swiftly as utterly to defeat any design of pursuit. The armsof Ruth were frantically extended towards the place where he haddisappeared, and she was about to rush madly on his footsteps, when thehand of her husband stopped the movement.

"Wouldst hazard life, to save some worthless trifle?"

"Husband, release me!" returned the woman, nearly choked with heragony--"nature hath slept within me!"

"Fear blindeth thy reason!"

The form of Ruth ceased to struggle. All the madness, which had beenglaring wildly about her eyes, disappeared in the settled look of analmost preternatural calm. Collecting the whole of her mental energy inone desperate effort of self-command, she turned to her husband, and, asher bosom swelled with the terror that seemed to stop her breath, she saidin a voice that was frightful by its composure--

"If thou hast a father's heart, release me!--Our babes have beenforgotten!"

The hand of Content relaxed its hold, and, in another instant, the form ofhis wife was lost to view on the track that had just been taken by thesuccessful savage. This was the luckless moment chosen by the foe to pushhis advantage. A fierce burst of yells proclaimed the activity of theassailants, and a general discharge from the loops of the block-housesufficiently apprised those in the court that the onset of the enemy wasnow pushed into the very heart of the defences. All had mounted, but thefew who lingered to discharge the melancholy duty to the dead. They weretoo few to render resistance prudent, and yet too many to think ofdeserting the distracted mother and her offspring without an effort.

"Enter," said Content, pointing to the door of the block. "It is my dutyto share the fate of those nearest my blood."

The stranger made no answer. Placing his powerful hands on the nearlystupified husband, he thrust his person, by an irresistible effort, withinthe basement of the building, and then he signed, by a quick gesture, forall around him to follow. After the last form had entered, he commandedthat the fastenings of the door should be secured, remaining himself, ashe believed, alone without. But when by a rapid glance he saw there wasanother gazing in dull awe on the features of the fallen man, it was toolate 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 plainthat only a few feet divided them from their pursuers. Beckoning the manwho had been excluded from the block to follow, the stern soldier rushedinto the principal dwelling, which was still but little injured by thefire. Guided rather by chance than by any knowledge of the windings of thebuilding, he soon found himself in the chambers. He was now at a losswhither to proceed. At that moment, his companion, who was no other thanWhittal Ring, took the lead, and in another instant, they were at the doorof the secret apartment.

"Hist!" said the stranger, raising a hand to command silence as he enteredthe room. "Our hope is in secrecy."

"And how may we escape without detection?" demanded the mother, pointingabout her at objects illuminated by a light so powerful as to penetrateevery cranny of the ill-constructed building. "The noon-day sun is scarcebrighter than this dreadful fire!"

"God is in the elements! His guiding hand shall point the way. But here wemay not tarry, for the flames are already on the shingles. Follow, andspeak not."

Ruth pressed the children to her side, and the whole party left theapartment of the attic in a body. Their descent to a lower room was madequickly, and without discovery. But here their leader paused, for thestate 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 MarkHeathcote's possessions, with the exception of the block-house; and astheir first act had been to apply the brand wherever it might be wanting,the roar of the conflagration was now heard in every direction. Thedischarge of muskets and the whoops of the combatants, however, while theyadded to the horrible din of such a scene, proclaimed the unconqueredresolution of those who held the citadel. A window of the room theyoccupied enabled the stranger to take a cautious survey of what waspassing without. The court, lighted to the brilliancy of day, was empty;for the increasing heat of the fires, no less than the discharges from theloops, still kept the cautious savages to their covers. There was barelyhope, that the space between the dwelling and the block-house might yet bepassed 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 thatfierce light; nor have we any manner of----"A touch was laid upon his arm, and turning, the speaker saw the dark eyeof 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 ladwas seen gliding quietly from the room.

Another instant, and Miantonimoh appeared in the court. He walked with thedeliberation that one would have shown in moments of the most entiresecurity. A hand was raised towards the loops, as if to betoken amity, andthen dropping the limb, he moved with the same slow step into the verycentre of the area. Here the boy stood in the fullest glare of theconflagration, and turned his face deliberately on every side of him. Theaction showed that he wished to invite all eyes to examine his person. Atthis moment the yells ceased in the surrounding covers, proclaiming alikethe common feeling that was awakened by his appearance, and the hazardthat any other would have incurred by exposing himself in that fearfulscene. When this act of exceeding confidence had been performed, the boydrew 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 thepurposes of parley.

The boy raised the palm of one hand towards the speaker, while he laid theother with a gesture of confidence on his naked breast.

"Hast aught to offer in behalf of my wife and babes? If gold will buytheir ransom, name thy price."

Miantonimoh was at no loss to comprehend the other's meaning. With thereadiness of one whose faculties had been early schooled in the inventionsof emergencies, he made a gesture that said even more than his figurativewords, as he answered--

"Can a woman of the Pale-faces pass through wood? An Indian arrow isswifter than the foot of my mother."

"Boy, I trust thee," returned the voice from within the loop. "Ifthou deceivest beings so feeble and so innocent, Heaven will rememberthe wrong."

Miantonimoh again made a sign to show that caution must be used, and thenhe retired with a step calm and measured as that used in his advance.Another pause to the shouts betrayed the interest of those whose fierceeyes 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 smokeof the surrounding buildings, to a spot that commanded a full view oftheir short but perilous route. At this moment the door of theblock-house half-opened, and was closed again. Still the strangerhesitated, for he saw how little was the chance that all should cross thecourt unharmed, and to pass it by repeated trials he knew to beimpossible.

"Boy," he said, "thou, who hast done thus much, may still do more. Askmercy for these children, in some manner that may touch the hearts ofthy people."

Miantonimoh shook his head, and pointing to the ghastly corpse that lay inthe court, he answered coldly--

"The red-man has tasted blood."

"Then must the desperate trial be done! Think not of thy children, devotedand daring mother, but look only to thine own safety. This witless youthand I will charge ourselves with the care of the innocents."

Ruth waved him away with her hand, pressing her mute and tremblingdaughter 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 inany apprehension of his own personal danger, he bade him look to thesafety of the remaining child. Moving in front himself, he was about tooffer Ruth such protection as the case afforded, when a window in the rearof the house was dashed inward, announcing the entrance of the enemy, andthe imminent danger that their flight would be intercepted. There was notime to lose, for it was now certain that only a single room separatedthem from their foes. The generous nature of Ruth was roused, and catchingMartha from the arms of Whittal Ring, she endeavored, by a desperateeffort, in which feeling rather than any reasonable motive predominated,to envelop both the children in her robe.

"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 glasswas heard, he rushed to the rear; and he had already grappled with thesavage so often named, and who acted as guide to a dozen fierce andyelling followers.

"To the block!" shouted the steady soldier, while with a powerful arm heheld his enemy in the throat of the narrow passage, stopping the approachof those in the rear by the body of his foe. "For the love of life andchildren, woman, to the block!"

The summons rang frightfully in the ears of Ruth, but in that moment ofextreme jeopardy her presence of mind was lost. The cry was repeated, andnot till then did the bewildered mother catch her daughter from thefloor. With eyes still bent on the fierce struggle in her rear, sheclasped the child to her heart and fled, calling on Whittal Ring tofollow. The lad obeyed, and ere she had half-crossed the court, thestranger, still holding his savage shield between him and his enemies,was seen endeavoring to take the same direction. The whoops, the flightof arrows, and the discharges of musquetry, that succeeded, proclaimedthe whole extent of the danger. But fear had lent unnatural vigor to thelimbs of Ruth, and the gliding arrows themselves scarce sailed moreswiftly through the heated air, than she darted into the open door of theblock. Whittal Ring was less successful. As he crossed the court, bearingthe child intrusted to his care, an arrow pierced his flesh. Stung by thepain, the witless lad turned, in anger, to chide the hand that hadinflicted the injury.

"On, foolish boy!" cried the stranger, as he passed him, still making atarget of the body of the savage that was writhing in his grasp. "On, forthy life, and that of the babe!"

The mandate came too late. The hand of an Indian was already on theinnocent 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 shotfrom the loops laid the monster dead in his tracks. The girl was instantlyseized by another hand, and as the captor with his prize darted unharmedinto the dwelling, there arose in the block a common exclamation of thename of "Miantonimoh!" Two more of the savages profited by the pause ofhorror that followed, to lay hands on the wounded Whittal and to drag himwithin the blazing building. At the same moment, the stranger cast theunresisting savage back upon the weapons of his companions. The bleedingand half-strangled Indian met the blows which had been aimed at the lifeof the soldier, and as he staggered and fell, his vigorous conquerordisappeared in the block. The door of the little citadel was instantlyclosed, and the savages, who rushed headlong against the entrance, heardthe fitting of the bars which secured it against their attacks. The yellof retreat was raised, and in the next instant the court was left to bepossession of the dead.

"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 thehalf-unconscious Ruth to mount the ladder, yielding himself to a feelingof nature that said little against his manhood. "If we have lost one, thatwe loved, God hath spared our own child."

His breathless wife threw herself into a seat, and folding the treasure toher 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 toconceal a tear that was stealing down his brown cheek, under a pretence ofembracing the child--but suddenly recoiling, he added in alarm--"Ruth!"

Startled by the tone in which her husband uttered her name, the motherthrew aside the folds of her dress, which still concealed the girl, andstretching her out to the length of an arm, she saw that, in the hurry ofthe appalling scene, the children had been exchanged, and that she hadsaved the life of Martha!

Notwithstanding the generous disposition of Ruth, it was impossible torepress the feeling of disappointment which came over her with theconsciousness of the mistake. Nature at first had sway, and to a degreethat was fearfully powerful.

"It is not our babe!" shrieked the mother, still holding the child at thelength of her arm, and gazing at its innocent and terrified countenance,with an expression that Martha had never yet seen gleaming from eyes thatwere, in common, so soft and so indulgent.

"I am thine! I am thine!" murmured the little trembler, struggling in vainto 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 thelips of the orphan. Then the heart of Ruth relented. She clasped thedaughter of her friend to her breast, and Nature found a temporary reliefin one of those frightful exhibitions of anguish, which appear to threatenthe dissolution of the link which connects the soul with the body.

"Come, daughter of John Harding," said Content, looking around him withthe assumed composure of a chastened man, while natural regret struggledhard at his heart; "this has been God's pleasure; it is meet that we kisshis parental hand. Let us be thankful," he added, with a quivering lip butsteady eye, "that even this mercy hath been shown. Our babe is with theIndian, but our hopes are far beyond the reach of savage malignity. Wehave not 'laid up treasure where moth and rust can corrupt, or wherethieves may break in and steal,' It may be that the morning shall bringmeans of parley, and haply, opportunity of ransom."

There was the glimmering of hope in this suggestion. The idea seemed togive a new direction to the thoughts of Ruth, and the change enabled thelong habits of self-restraint to regain something of their formerascendancy. The fountains of her tears became dry, and, after one shortand terrible struggle, she was again enabled to appear composed. But atno time during the continuance of that fearful struggle, was RuthHeathcote again the same ready and useful agent of activity and order thatshe had been in the earlier events of the night.

It is scarcely necessary to remind the reader that the brief burst ofparental agony which has just been related, escaped Content and his wifeamid a scene in which the other actors were too much occupied by theirexertions to note its exhibition. The fate of those in the block was tooevidently approaching its close, to allow of any interest in such anepisode to the great tragedy of the moment.

The character of the contest had in some measure changed. There was nolonger any immediate apprehension from the missiles of the assailants,though danger pressed upon the besieged in a new and even in a morehorrible aspect. Now and then indeed an arrow quivered in the openings ofthe loops, and the blunt Dudley had once a narrow escape from the passageof a bullet, which, guided by chance, or aimed by a hand surer thancommon, glanced through one of the narrow slits, and would have terminatedthe history of the borderer, had not the head it obliquely encountered,been too solid to yield even to such an assault. The attention of thegarrison was chiefly called to the imminent danger of the surroundingfire. Though the probability of such an emergency as that in which thefamily was now placed, had certainly been foreseen, and in some degreeguarded against, in the size of the area and in the construction of theblock, 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, andof a thickness and a material to put at defiance any artifices that theirenemy might find time to practise. Even the two upper stories werecomparatively safe; for they were composed of blocks so solid as torequire time to heat them, and they were consequently as little liable tocombustion as wood well could be. But the roof, like all of that, andindeed, like most of the present day in America, was composed of shortinflammable shingles of pine. The superior height of the tower was somelittle protection, but as the flames rose roaring above the buildings ofthe court, and waved in wide circuits around the heated area, the whole ofthe fragile covering of the block was often wrapped in folds of fire. Theresult may be anticipated. Content was first recalled from the bitternessof his parental regret, by a cry, which passed among the family, that theroof of their little citadel was in flames. One of the ordinary wells ofthe habitation was in the basement of the edifice, and it was fortunatethat no precaution necessary to render it serviceable in an emergency likethat which was now arrived, had been neglected. A well-secured shaft ofstone rose through the lower apartment into the upper floor. Profiting bythis happy precaution, the handmaidens of Ruth plied the buckets withdiligence, while the young men cast water freely on the roof, from thewindows of the attic. The latter duty, it may readily be supposed, was notperformed without hazard. Flights of arrows were constantly directedagainst the borers, and more than one of the youths received greater orless injuries, while exposed to their annoyance. There were indeed a fewminutes, during which it remained a question of grave interest how far therisk they ran was likely to be crowned with success. The excessive heat ofso many fires, and the occasional contact with the flames, as they sweptin eddies over the place, began to render it doubtful whether any humanefforts could long arrest the evil. Even the massive and moistened logs ofthe body of the work began to smoke; and 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 loopswere called to aid in extinguishing the fire. Resistance was forgottenin the discharge of a duty that had become still more pressing. Ruthherself was aroused by the nature of the alarm, and all hands and allminds were arduously occupied in a toil that diverted attention fromincidents which had less interest, because they were teeming less withinstant destruction. Danger is known to lose its terrors by familiarity.The young borderers became reckless of their persons in the ardor ofexertion, and as success began to crown their efforts, something likethe levity of happier moments got the better of their concern. Stolenand curious glances were thrown around a place that had so long beenkept sacred to the secret uses of the Puritan, when it was found thatthe flames were subdued, and that the present danger was averted. Thelight glared powerfully through several openings in the shingles, noless than through the windows; and every eye was enabled to scan thecontents of an apartment which all had longed, though none had everbefore presumed, to enter.

"The Captain looketh well to the body," whispered Reuben Ring to one of hiscomrades, as he wiped the effects of the toil from a sun-burnt brow. "Thouseest, Hiram, that there is good store of cheer."

"The buttery is not better stored!" returned the other, with theshrewdness and ready observation of a border-man. "It is known that henever toucheth that which the cow yields, except as it comes from thecreature, and here we find of the best that the Madam's dairy can yield!"

"Surely yon buff jerkin is like to those worn by the idle cavaliersat home! I think it be long since the Captain hath ridden forth insuch a guise."

"That may be matter of ancient usage, for thou seest he hath relics of thefashion of the English troopers in this bit of steel; it is like, heholdeth deep exercise over the vanities of his youth, while recalling thetimes in which they were worn."

This conjecture appeared to satisfy the other, though it is probable thata sight of a fresh store of bodily aliment, which was soon after exposedin order to gain access to the roof, might have led to some furtherinferences, had more time been given to conjectures. But at this moment anew wail proceeded from the maidens who plied the buckets beneath.

"To the loops! to the loops, or we are lost!" was a summons that admittedof no delay. Led by the stranger, the young men rushed below, where, intruth, they found a serious demand on all their activity and courage.

The Indians were wanting in none of the sagacity which so remarkablydistinguishes the warfare of this cunning race. The time spent by thefamily, in arresting the flames, had not been thrown away by theassailants. Profiting by the attention of those within, to efforts thatwere literally of the last importance, they had found means to conveyburning brands to the door of the block, against which they had piled amass of blazing combustibles, that threatened shortly to open the way intothe basement of the citadel itself. In order to mask this design, and toprotect their approaches, the savages had succeeded in dragging bundles ofstraw and other similar materials to the foot of the work, to which thefire soon communicated, and which consequently served both to increase theactual danger of the building and to distract the attention of those bywhom it was defended. Although the water that fell from the roof servedto retard the progress of these flames, it contributed to produce theeffect of all others that was most desired by the savages. The densevolumes of smoke that arose from the half-smothered fire, first apprisedthe females of the new danger which assailed them. When Content and thestranger reached the principal floor of their citadel, it required somelittle time, and no small degree of coolness, to comprehend the situationin which they were now placed. The vapor that rolled upward from the wetstraw and hay had already penetrated into the apartment, and it was withno slight difficulty that they who occupied it were enabled to distinguishobjects, or even to breathe.

"Here is matter to exercise our utmost fortitude," said the stranger tohis constant companion. "We must look to this new device, or we come tothe fate of death by fire. Summon the stoutest-hearted of thy youths, andI 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 sentforth its chosen warriors to do their wickedness. Better is it that webestir ourselves to drive them from our door, and to prevent the furtherannoyance 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 vainas 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 downwardloops, and water may be yet applied through the same openings. Thoughthath been had of this danger, in the disposition of the place."

"Then, of Heaven's mercy! delay not the effort."

The necessary measures were taken, instantly. Eben Dudley applied themuzzle of his piece to a loop, and discharged it downward, in thedirection 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 moreservice, since the savages had foreseen its use, and had made a provisionagainst its effects by placing boards, and such vessels as they foundscattered among the buildings, above the fire, in a manner to prevent mostof 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 againstthe wall."

The borderer complied. There were in fact moments when dark human formswere to be seen gliding in silence around the building, though the densityof the vapor rendered the forms indistinct and their movements doubtful.With a cool and practised eye, the youth sought a victim; but as hedischarged his musket, an object glanced near his own visage, as thoughthe bullet had recoiled on him who had given it a very different mission.Stepping backward a little hurriedly, he saw the stranger pointing throughthe smoke at an arrow which still quivered in the floor above them.

"We cannot long abide these assaults," the soldier muttered; "somethingmust be speedily devised, or we fall."

His words ceased, for a yell that appeared to lift the floor on which hestood, announced the destruction of the door and the presence of thesavages in the basement of the tower. Both parties appeared momentarilyconfounded at this unexpected success; for while the one stood mute withastonishment and dread, the other did little more than triumph. But thisinaction soon ended. The conflict was resumed, though the efforts of theassailants began to assume the confidence of victory, while, on the partof the besieged, they partook fearfully of the aspect of despair.

A few muskets were discharged, both from below and above, at theintermediate floor, but the thickness of the planks prevented the bulletsfrom doing injury. Then commenced a struggle in which the respectivequalities of the combatants were exhibited in a singularly characteristicmanner. While the Indians improved their advantages beneath, with all thearts known to savage warfare, the young men resisted with that wonderfulaptitude of expedient, and readiness of execution, which distinguish theAmerican borderer.

The first attempt of the assailants was to burn the floor of the lowerapartment. In order to effect this, they threw vast piles of straw intothe basement. But ere the brand was applied, water had reduced theinflammable material to a black and murky pile. Still the smoke had nearlyeffected a conquest which the fire itself had failed to achieve. Sosuffocating indeed were the clouds of vapor which ascended through thecrevices, 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 themeans of protecting the wood-work of the interior, an effort was made tocut off the communication with the water, by forcing a passage into thecircular stone shaft, through which it was drawn into the room above. Thisattempt was defeated by the readiness of the youths, who soon cut holes inthe floor, whence they sent down certain death on all beneath. Perhaps nopart of the assault was more obstinate than that which accompanied thiseffort; nor did either assailants or assailed, at any time during itscontinuance, suffer greater personal injury. After a long and fiercestruggle, the resistance was effectual, and the savages had recourse tonew schemes in order to effect their ruthless object.

During the first moments of their entrance, and with a view to reap thefruits of the victory when the garrison should be more effectuallysubdued, most of the furniture of the dwelling had been scattered by theconquerors on the side of the hill. Among other articles, some six orseven beds had been dragged from the dormitories. These were now broughtinto play, as powerful instruments in the assault. They were cast, one byone, on the still burning though smothered flames, in the basement of theblock, whence they sent up a cloud of their intolerable effluvia. At thistrying moment, the appalling cry was heard in the block, that the well hadfailed! The buckets ascended as empty as they went down, and they werethrown aside as no longer useful. The savages seemed to comprehend theiradvantage, for they profited by the confusion that succeeded among theassailed, to feed the slumbering fires. The flames kindled fiercely, andin less than a minute they became too violent to be subdued. They weresoon seen playing on the planks of the floor above. The subtle elementflashed from point to point, and it was not long ere it was stealing upthe outer side of the heated block itself.

The savages now knew that conquest was sure. Yells and whoopingsproclaimed the fierce delight with which they witnessed the certainty oftheir victory. Still there was something portentous in the death-likesilence with which the victims within the block awaited their fate. Thewhole exterior of the building was already wrapped in flames, and yet noshow of further resistance, no petition for mercy, issued from its bosom.The unnatural and frightful stillness, that reigned within, was graduallycommunicated to those without. The cries and shouts of triumph ceased, andthe crackling of the flames, or the falling of timber in the adjoiningbuildings, alone disturbed the awful calm. At length a solitary voice washeard in the block. Its tones were deep, solemn, and imploring. The fiercebeings who surrounded the glowing pile bent forward to listen, for theirquick faculties caught the first sounds that were audible. It was MarkHeathcote pouring out his spirit in prayer. The petition was fervent, butsteady, and though uttered in words that were unintelligible to thosewithout, they knew enough of the practices of the Colonists, to be awarethat 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 ofso mysterious an asking, the dark crowd with drew to a little distance,and silently watched the progress of the destruction. They had heardstrange sayings of the power of the Deity of their invaders, and as theirvictims appeared suddenly to cease using any of the known means of safety,they appeared to expect, perhaps they did expect, some unequivocalmanifestation of the power of the Great Spirit of the stranger.

Still no sign of pity, no relenting from the ruthless barbarity of theirwarfare, escaped any of the assailants. If they thought at all of thetemporal fate of those who might still exist within the fiery pile, it wasonly to indulge in some passing regret, that the obstinacy of the defencehad deprived them of the glory of bearing the usual bloody tokens ofvictory, in triumph to their villages. But even these peculiar anddeeply-rooted feelings were for gotten, 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 theloops, 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 wereescaping the females; but they ceased so suddenly as to leave doubts amongthe auditors, whether it were more than the deception of their own excitedfancies. The savages had witnessed many a similar scene of humansuffering, but never one before in which death was met by so unmoved acalmness. The serenity that reigned in the blazing block communicated tothem a feeling of awe; and when the pile came a tumbling and blackenedmass of ruins to the earth, they avoided the place, like men that dreadedthe vengeance of a Deity who knew how to infuse so deep a sentiment ofresignation in the breasts of his worshippers.

Though the yells of victory were again heard in the valley that night, andthough the sun had arisen before the conquerors deserted the hill, but fewof the band found resolution to approach the smouldering pile, where theyhad witnessed so impressive an exhibition of Christian fortitude. The fewthat did draw near, stood around the spot rather in the reverence withwhich an Indian visits the graves of the just, than in the fiercerejoicings with which he is known to glut his revenge over a fallen enemy.

"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 thesepages, is never of long continuance in the month of April. A change in thewind had been noted by the hunters, even before they retired from theirrange among the hills; and though too seriously occupied to pay closeattention to the progress of the thaw, more than one of the young men hadfound occasion to remark, that the final breaking up of the winter hadarrived. Long ere the scene of the preceding chapter reached its height,the southern winds had mingled with the heat of the conflagration. Warmairs, that had been following the course of the Gulf Stream, were drivento the land, and, sweeping over the narrow island that at this point formsthe advanced work of the continent, but a few short hours had passedbefore they destroyed every chilling remnant of the dominion of winter.Warm, bland, and rushing in torrents, the subtle currents penetrated theforests, melted the snows from the fields, and as all alike felt thegenial influence, it appeared to bestow a renovated existence on man andbeast. With morning, therefore, a landscape very different from that lastplaced before the mind of the reader, presented itself in the valley ofthe Wish-Ton-Wish.

The winter had entirely disappeared, and as the buds had begun to swellunder the occasional warmth of the spring, one ignorant of the past wouldnot have supposed that the advance of the season had been subject to sostern an interruption. But the principal and most melancholy change was inthe more artificial parts of the view. Instead of those simple and happyhabitations which had crowned the little eminence, there remained only amass of blackened and charred ruins. A few abused and half-destroyedarticles 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-lookingstacks of chimneys rose out of the smoking piles. In the centre of thedesolation was the stone basement of the block-house, on which still stooda few gloomy masses of the timber, resembling coal. The naked andunsupported shaft of the well reared its circular pillar from the centre,looking like a dark monument of the past. The wide ruin of theout-buildings blackened one side of the clearing, and, in differentplaces, the fences, like radii diverging from the common centre ofdestruction, had led off the flames into the fields. A few domesticanimals ruminated in the back-ground, and even the feathered inhabitantsof the barns still kept aloof, as if warned by their instinct that dangerlurked around the site of their ancient abodes. In all other respects, theview was calm, and lovely as ever. The sun shone from a sky in which nocloud was visible. The blandness of the winds, and the brightness of theheavens, lent an air of animation to even the leafless forest; and thewhite vapor, that continued to rise from the smouldering piles, floatedhigh over the hills, as the peaceful smoke of the cottage curled above itsroof. The ruthless band which had occasioned this sudden change wasalready far on the way to its villages, or, haply, it sought some otherscene of blood. A skilful eye might have traced the route these fiercecreatures of the woods had taken, by fences hurled from their places, orby the carcass of some animal that had fallen, in the wantonness ofvictory, beneath a parting blow. Of all these wild beings, one onlyremained; and he appeared to linger at the spot in the indulgence offeelings that were foreign to those passions that had so recently stirredthe bosoms of his comrades.

It was with a slow, noiseless step that the solitary loiterer moved aboutthe scene of destruction. He was first seen treading, with a thoughtfulair, among the ruins of the buildings that had formed the quadrangle, andthen, seemingly led by an interest in the fate of those who had somiserably perished, he drew nearer to the pile in its centre. The nicestand most attentive ear could not have detected the fall of his foot, asthe Indian placed it within the gloomy circle of the ruined wall; nor isthe breathing of the infant less audible, than the manner in which he drewbreath, while standing in a place so lately consecrated by the agony andmartyrdom of a Christian family. It was the boy called Miantonimoh,seeking some melancholy memorial of those with whom he had so long dweltin amity, if not in confidence.

One skilled in the history of savage passions might have found a clue tothe workings of the mind of the youth, in the play of his speakingfeatures. As his dark glittering eye rolled over the smoulderingfragments, it seemed to search keenly for some vestige of the human form.The element however had done its work too greedily, to have left manyvisible 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 hiseye, as it lighted on this sad object, was wild and exulting, like thatof the savage when he first feels the fierce joy of glutted vengeance; butgentler recollections came with the gaze, and kinder feelings evidentlyusurped the place of the hatred he had been taught to bear a race, whowere so fast sweeping his people from the earth. The relic fell from hishand, and had Ruth been there to witness the melancholy and relentingshade that clouded his swarthy features, she might have found pleasure inthe certainty that all her kindness had not been wasted.

Regret soon gave place to awe. To the imagination of the Indian, it seemedas 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 theintensity and acuteness of a savage. He thought the smothered tones ofMark Heathcote were again audible, holding communion with his God. Thechisel of the Grecian would have loved to delineate the attitudes andmovements of the wondering boy, as he slowly and reverently withdrew fromthe spot. His look was riveted on the vacancy where the upper apartmentsof the block had stood, and where he had last seen the family, calling, intheir extremity, on their Deity for aid. Imagination still painted thevictims, in their burning pile. For a minute longer, during which briefspace the young Indian probably expected to see some vision of thePale-faces, did he linger near; and then, with a musing air and softenedmind, 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 witnessto so much domestic peace and of so much sudden misery, his form wasquickly swallowed in the gloom of his native woods.

The work of the savages now seemed complete. An effectual check appearedto be placed to the further progress of civilization in the ill-fatedvalley of the Wish-Ton-wish. Had nature been left to its own work, a fewyears would have covered the deserted clearing with its ancientvegetation; and half a century would have again buried the whole of itsquiet 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 somehours, before aught occurred likely to affect this seeming decision ofProvidence. To one acquainted with the recent horrors, the breathing ofthe airs over the ruins might have passed for the whisperings of departedspirits. In short, it appeared as if the silence of the wilderness hadonce more resumed its reign, when it was suddenly though slightlyinterrupted. A movement was made within the ruins of the block. It soundedas if billets of wood were gradually and cautiously displaced, and then ahuman head was reared slowly, and with marked suspicion, above the shaftof the well. The wild and unearthly air of this seeming spectre, was inkeeping with the rest of the scene. A face begrimed with smoke and stainedwith blood, a head bound in some fragment of a soiled dress, and eyes thatwere glaring in a species of dull horror, were objects in unison with allthe other frightful accessories of the place.

"What seest thou?" demanded a deep voice from within the walls of theshaft. "Shall we again come to our weapons, or have the agents of Molochdeparted? Speak, entranced youth! what dost behold?"

"A sight to make a wolf weep!" returned Eben Dudley, raising his largeframe so as to stand erect on the shaft, where he commanded a bird's-eyeview of most of the desolation of the valley. "Evil though it be, we maynot say that forewarning signs have been withheld. But what is thecunningest man, when mortal wisdom is weighed in the scale against thecraft of devils? Come forth! Belial hath done his worst, and we have abreathing-time."

The sounds, which issued still deeper from the well, denoted thesatisfaction with which this intelligence was received, no less than thealacrity with which the summons of the borderer was obeyed. Sundry blocksof wood and short pieces of plank were first passed, with care, up to thehands of Dudley, who cast them, like useless lumber, among the other ruinsof the building. He then descended from his perch, and made room forothers 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 hadunhappily fallen in the contest. After these had mounted, and each in turnhad leaped to the ground, a very brief preparation served for theliberation of the more feeble of body. The readiness of border skill soonsufficed to arrange the necessary means. By the aid of chains and buckets,Ruth and the little Martha, Faith and all of the handmaidens, without evenone exception, were successively drawn from the bowels of the earth, andrestored to the light of day. It is scarcely necessary to say to thosewhom experience has best fitted to judge of such an achievement, that nogreat time or labor was necessary for its accomplishment.

It is not our intention to harass the feelings of the reader, further thanis required by a simple narrative of the incidents of the legend. We shalltherefore say nothing of the bodily pain, or of the mental alarm, by whichthis ingenious retreat from the flames and the tomahawk had been effected.The suffering was chiefly confined to apprehension; for as the descent waseasy, so had the readiness and ingenuity of the young men found means, bythe aid of articles of furniture first cast into the shaft, and bywell-secured fragments of the floors properly placed across, both torender the situation of the females and children less painful than mightat first be supposed, and effectually to protect them from the tumblingblock. But little of the latter however, was likely to affect theirsafety, as the form of the building was, in itself, a sufficient securityagainst the fall of its heavier parts.

The meeting of the family, amid the desolation of the valley, thoughrelieved by the consciousness of having escaped a more shocking fate, mayeasily be imagined. The first act was to render brief but solemn thanksfor their deliverance, and then, with the promptitude of people trained inhardship, their attention was given to those measures which prudence toldthem were yet necessary.

A few of the more active and experienced of the youths were dispatched, inorder to ascertain the direction taken by the Indians, and to gain whatintelligence they might concerning their future movements. The maidenshastened to collect the kine, while others searched, with heavy hearts,among the ruins, in quest of such articles of food and comfort as could befound, in order to administer to the first wants of nature.

Two hours had effected most of that which could immediately be done, inthese several pursuits. The young men returned with the assurance that thetrails announced the certain and final retreat of the savages. The cowshad yielded their tribute and such provision had been made against hungeras circumstances would allow. The arms had been examined, and put, as faras the injuries they had received would admit, in readiness for instantservice. A few hasty preparations had been made, in order to protect thefemales against the cool airs of the coming night; and, in short, all wasdone that the intelligence of a border-man could suggest, or his exceedingreadiness in expedients could in so brief a space supply.

The sun began to fall towards the tops of the beeches that crowned thewestern outline of the view, before all these necessary arrangements wereended. It was not till then, however, that Reuben Ring, accompanied byanother youth of equal activity and courage, appeared before the Puritan,equipped, as well as men in their situation might be, for a journeythrough the forest.

"Go," said the old religionist, when the youths presented themselvesbefore him; "Go; carry forth the tidings of this visitation, that men cometo our succor. I ask not vengeance on the deluded and heathenish imitatorsof the worshippers of Moloch. They have ignorantly done this evil. Let noman arm in behalf of the wrongs of one sinful and erring. Rather let themlook into the secret abominations of their own hearts, in order that theycrush 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 thatthere be profit in this example of divine displeasure. Go: make thecircuit of the settlements for some fifty miles, and bid such of theneighbors as may be spared, come to our aid. They shall be welcome; andmay it be long ere any of them send invitation to me or mine, to entertheir clearings on the like melancholy duty. Depart, and bear in mind,that you are messengers of peace; that your errand toucheth not thefeelings of vengeance, but that it is succor, in all fitting reason, andno arming of the hand to chase the savage to his retreats, that I ask ofthe brethren."

With this final admonition, the young men took their leaves. Still it wasevident, by their frowning brows and compressed lips, that some part ofits forgiving principle might be forgotten, should chance, in theirjourney, bring them on the trail of any wandering inhabitant of theforest. In a few minutes, they were seen passing, with swift steps, fromthe fields into the depths of the forest, along that path which led to thetowns that lay lower on the Connecticut.

Another task still remained to be performed. In making the temporaryarrangements for the shelter of the family, attention had been first paidto the block-house. The walls of the basement of this building were stillstanding, and it was found easy, by means of half-burnt timbers, with anoccasional board that had escaped the conflagration, to cover it, in amanner that offered a temporary protection against the weather. Thissimple and hasty construction, with an extremely inartificial officeerected around the stack of a chimney, embraced nearly all that could bedone, until time and assistance should enable them to commence otherdwellings. In clearing the ruins of the little tower of its rubbish, theremains of those who had perished in the fray were piously collected. Thebody of the youth who had died in the earlier hours of the attack, wasfound, but half-consumed, in the court, and the bones of two more, whofell within the block, were collected from among the ruins. It had nowbecome a melancholy duty to consign them all to the earth, with decentsolemnity.

The time selected for this sad office was just as the western horizonbegan to glow with that which one of our own poets has so beautifullytermed, "the pomp that brings and shuts the day." The sun was in thetree-tops, and a softer or sweeter light could not have been chosen forsuch a ceremony. Most of the fields still lay in the soft brightness ofthe hour, though the forest was rapidly getting the more obscure look ofnight. A broad and gloomy margin was spreading from the boundary of thewoods, and, here and there, a solitary tree cast its shadow on the meadowswithout its limits, throwing a dark ragged line, in bold relief, on theglow of the sun's rays. One, it was the dusky image of a high and wavingpine, that reared its dark green pyramid of never-fading foliage nearly ahundred feet above the humbler growth of beeches, cast its shade to theside of the eminence of the block. Here the pointed extremity of theshadow was seen, stealing slowly towards the open grave,--an emblem ofthat 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 twoparallel benches, formed of planks placed on stones, held the othermembers of the family. The grave lay between. The patriarch had taken hisstation at one of its ends; while the stranger, so often named in thesepages, stood with folded arms and a thoughtful brow at the other. Thebridle of a horse, caparisoned in that imperfect manner which thestraitened means of the borderers now rendered necessary, was hanging fromone 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 beenaccustomed to chasten his regrets by humility. "He that hath given freely,hath taken away; and one, that hath long smiled upon my weakness, hath nowveiled his face in anger. I have known him in his power to bless; it wasmeet that I should see him in his displeasure. A heart that was waxingconfident would have hardened in its pride. At that which hath befallen,let no man murmur. Let none imitate the speech of her who spokefoolishly: 'What! shall we receive good at the hand of God, and shall wenot receive evil?' I would that the feeble-minded of the world, they thatjeopard the soul on vanities, they that look with scorn on the needinessof the flesh, might behold the riches of one stedfast I would that theymight know the consolation of the righteous! Let the voice of thanksgivingbe heard in the wilderness. Open thy mouths in praise, that the gratitudeof a penitent be not hid!"

As the deep tones of the speaker ceased, his stern eye fell upon thefeatures of the nearest youth, and it seemed to demand an audible responseto his own lofty expression of resignation. But the sacrifice exceeded thepower of the individual to whom had been made this silent, butintelligible, appeal. After regarding the relics that lay at his feet,casting a wandering glance at the desolation which had swept over a placehis own hand had helped to decorate, and receiving a renewed consciousnessof his own bodily suffering in the shooting pain of his wounds, the youngborderer averted his look, and seemed to recoil from so officious adisplay of submission. Observing his inability to reply, Mark continued.--

"Hath no one a voice to praise the Lord? The bands of the heathen havefallen upon my herds; the brand hath been kindled within my dwellings; mypeople have died by the violence of the unenlightened, and none are hereto say that the Lord is just! I would that the shouts of thanksgivingshould arise in my fields! I would that the song of praise should growlouder than the whoop of the savage, and that all the land might speakjoyfulness!"

A long, deep, and expecting pause succeeded. Then Content rejoined, in hisquiet tones, speaking firmly, but with the modest utterance he rarelyfailed to use--

"The hand that hath held the balance is just," he said, "and we have beenfound wanting. He that made the wilderness blossom hath caused theignorant and the barbarous to be the instruments of his will. He hatharrested the season of our prosperity, that we may know he is the Lord. Hehath spoken in the whirlwind, but his mercy granteth that our ears shallknow his voice."

As his son ceased, a gleam of satisfaction shot across the countenance ofthe Puritan. His eye next turned inquiringly towards Ruth, who sate amongher maidens the image of womanly sorrow. Common interest seemed to stillthe breathing of the little assembly, and sympathy was quite as active ascuriosity, when each one present suffered a glance to steal towards herbenignant but pallid face. The eye of the mother was gazing earnestly, butwithout a tear, on the melancholy spectacle before her. It unconsciouslysought, among the dried and shrivelled remnants of mortality that lay ather feet, some relic of the cherub she had lost. A shudder and strugglefollowed, after which her gentle voice breathed so low that those nearesther 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 themhe 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 histhrone, and he hath created the earth for his footstool. Let not thevanity of the weak of mind presume to understand it, for 'who that haththe breath of life, lived before the hills?' The bonds of the evil one, ofSatan, and of the sons of Belial, have been loosened, that the faith ofthe elect may be purified, that the names of those written, since thefoundations 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 iseternity; earth the habitation of a season! The bones of the bold, of theyouthful, and of the strong of yesterday, lie at our feet. None know whatan hour may bring forth. In a single night my children, hath this beendone. They whose voices were heard in my halls are now speechless and theywho so lately rejoiced are sorrowing. Yet hath this seeming evil beenordered that good may come thereof. We are dwellers in a wild and distantland," he continued, insensibly permitting his thoughts to incline towardsthe more mournful details of their affliction; "our earthly home is afaroff. Hither have we been led by the flaming pillar of truth, and yet themalice of the persecuters hath not forgotten to follow. One houseless, andsought like the hunted deer, is again driven to flee. We have the canopyof 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 thesake of truth, knoweth how to be satisfied; nor will the hours of bodilysuffering be accounted weary to him whose goal is the peace of therighteous." The strong lineaments of the stranger grew even more thanusually austere, and as the Puritan continued, the hand which rested onthe handle of a pistol grasped the weapon, until the fingers seemedimbedded in the wood. He bowed, however, as if to acknowledge the personalallusion, and remained silent.

"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 nota sparrow falleth without answering the ends of wisdom. Rather let thefulfilment of things remind us of the vanity of life, that we may learnhow 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 whoknoweth best when to begin the in-gathering of the harvest to his eternalgarners. Though a spirit bound unto his, as one feeble is wont to lean onthe strength of man and mourn over his fall, let her sorrow be mingledwith rejoicing." A convulsive sob broke out of the bosom of the handmaidenwho was known to have been affianced to one of the dead, and for a momentthe address of Mark was interrupted. But when silence again ensued, hecontinued, the subject leading him, by a transition that was natural, toallude to his own sorrows. "Death hath been no stranger in my habitation,"he said. "His shaft fell heaviest, when it struck her, who, like thosethat have here fallen, was in the pride of her youth, and when her soulwas glad with the first joy of the birth of a man-child! Thou who sitteston high!" he added, turning a glazed and tear less eye to heaven; "thouknowest how heavy was that blow, and thou hast written down the strivingsof an oppressed soul. The burthen was not found too heavy for endurance.The sacrifice hath not sufficed; the world was again getting uppermost inmy heart. Thou didst bestow an image of that innocence and loveliness thatdwelleth in the skies, and this hast thou taken away, that we might knowthy power. To this judgment we bow. If thou hast called our child to themansions of bliss, she is wholly thine, and we presume not to complain;but if thou hast still left her to wander further in the pilgrimage oflife, we confide in thy goodness. She is of a long-suffering race, andthou 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 ourhearts to yearn towards her, with the fondness of earthly love. We awaitsome further manifestation of thy will, that we may know whether thefountains of our affection shall be dried in the certainty of herblessedness--" (scalding tears were rolling down the cheeks of the pallidand immovable mother) "or whether hope, nay, whether duty to thee callethfor 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 solitarywanderer, in a strange and savage land, he held not back the offspring itwas thy will to grant him in the place of her called to thyself; and nowthat the child hath become a man, he too layeth, like Abraham of old, theinfant of his love, a willing offering at thy feet. Do with it as to thynever-failing wisdom seemeth best."--The words were interrupted by a heavygroan, that burst from the chest of Content. A deep silence ensued, butwhen the assembly ventured to throw looks of sympathy and awe at thebereaved father, they saw that he had arisen and stood gazing steadily atthe speaker, as if he wondered, equally with the others, whence such asound of suffering could have come. The Puritan renewed the subject, buthis voice faltered, and for an instant, as he proceeded, his hearers wereoppressed with the spectacle of an aged and dignified man shaken withgrief. Conscious of his weakness, the old man ceased speaking inexhortation, and addressed himself to prayer. While thus engaged, histones again became clear, firm and distinct, and the petition was endedin the midst of a deep and holy calm.

With the performance of this preliminary office, the simple ceremony wasbrought to its close. The remains were lowered, in solemn silence, intothe grave, and the earth was soon replaced by the young men. MarkHeathcote then invoked aloud the blessing of God on his household, andbowing 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. Thehand of the stranger was firmly clenched in that of the Puritan, and thestern self-command of both appeared to give way, before the regrets of afriendship that had endured through so many trying scenes.

"Thou knowest that I may not tarry," said the former, as if he replied tosome expressed wish of his companion. "They would make me a sacrifice tothe Moloch of their vanities; and yet would I fain abide, until the weightof this heavy blow may be forgotten. I found thee in peace, and I quitthee 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 andaustere 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 mineown, than thou now seest me in this wilderness, houseless, stripped of mywealth, and, God forgive the ingratitude! but I had almost said,childless? No, indeed, thou mayest not tarry, for the blood-hounds oftyranny will be on their scent: here is shelter no longer."

The eyes of both turned, by a common and melancholy feeling, towards theruin of the block. The stranger then pressed the hand of his friend inboth his own, and said in a struggling voice--

"Mark Heathcote, adieu! he that had a roof for the persecutedwanderer shall not long be houseless: neither shall the resigned forever know sorrow."

His words sounded in the ears of his companion like the revelation of aprophecy. They again pressed their hands together, and, regarding eachother with looks in which kindness could not be altogether smothered bythe repulsive character of an acquired air, they parted. The Puritanslowly took his way to the dreary shelter which covered his family; whilethe stranger was shortly after seen urging the beast he had mounted,across the pastures of the valley, towards one of the most retired pathsof the wilderness.

"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 severalyears. Before the thread of the narrative shall be resumed, it will benecessary to take another hasty view of the condition of the country inwhich the scene of our legend had place.

The exertions of the provincials were no longer limited to the firstefforts of a colonial existence. The establishments of New-England hadpassed the ordeal of experiment, and were become permanent. Massachusettswas already populous; and Connecticut, the colony with which we have moreimmediate connexion, was sufficiently peopled to manifest a portion ofthat enterprise which has since made her active little community soremarkable. The effects of these increased exertions were becomingextensively visible; and we shall endeavor to set one of these changes, asdistinctly as our feeble powers will allow, before the eyes of those whoread these pages.

When compared with the progress of society in the other hemisphere, thecondition of what is called, in America, a new settlement, becomesanomalous. There, the arts of life have been the fruits of an intelligencethat has progressively accumulated with the advancement of civilization;while here, improvement is, in a great degree, the consequence ofexperience elsewhere acquired. Necessity, prompted by an understanding ofits wants incited by a commendable spirit of emulation, and encouraged byliberty, early gave birth to those improvements which have converted awilderness into the abodes of abundance and security, with a rapidity thatwears the appearance of magic. Industry has wrought with the confidence ofknowledge, and the result has been peculiar.

It is scarcely necessary to say that, in a country where the laws favorall commendable enterprise, where unnecessary artificial restrictions areunknown, and where the hand of man has not yet exhausted its efforts, theadventurer is allowed the greatest freedom of choice, in selecting thefield of his enterprise. The agriculturist passes the heath and thebarren, to seat himself on the river-bottom; the trader looks for the siteof demand and supply and the artisan quits his native village to seekemployment in situations where labor will meet its fullest reward. It is aconsequence of this extraordinary freedom of election, that, while thegreat picture of American society has been sketched with so muchboldness, a large portion of the filling-up still remains to be done. Theemigrant has consulted his immediate interests; and, while no veryextensive and profitable territory, throughout the whole of our immensepossessions, has been wholly neglected, neither has any particulardistrict 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 ofindustry. After thirty years of fostering care on the part of thegovernment, the Capital, itself, presents its disjointed and sicklyvillages, in the centre of the deserted 'old-fields' of Maryland, whilenumberless youthful rivals are flourishing on the waters of the West, inspots where the bear has ranged and the wolf howled, long since the formerhas been termed a city.

Thus it is that high civilization, a state of infant existence, andpositive barbarity, are often brought so near each other, within theborders of this republic. The traveller, who has passed the night in aninn that would not disgrace the oldest country in Europe, may be compelledto dine in the shantee [Footnote: Shanty, or Shantee, is a word muchused in the newer settlements. It strictly means a rude cabin of bark andbrush, such as is often erected in the forest for temporary purposes. Butthe borderers often quaintly apply it to their own habitations. The onlyderivation which the writer has heard for this American word, is one thatsupposes it to be a corruption of Chientà, a term said to be used amongthe Canadians to express a dog-kennel.] of a hunter; the smooth andgravelled road sometimes ends in an impassable swamp; the spires of thetown are often hid by the branches of a tangled forest, and the canalleads to a seemingly barren and unprofitable mountain. He that does notreturn to see what another year may bring forth, commonly bears away fromthese scenes, recollections that conduce to error. To see America with theeyes of truth, it is necessary to look often; and in order to understandthe actual condition of these states, it should be remembered, that it isequally unjust to believe that all the intermediate points partake of theimprovements of particular places, as to infer the want of civilization atmore remote establishments, from a few unfavorable facts gleaned near thecentre. By an accidental concurrence of moral and physical causes, much ofthat equality which distinguishes the institutions of the country isextended to the progress of society over its whole surface.

Although the impetus of improvement was not as great in the time of MarkHeathcote as in our own days, the principle of its power was actively inexistence. Of this fact we shall furnish a sufficient evidence, bypursuing our intention of describing one of those changes to whichallusion has already been made.

The reader will remember that the age of which we write had advanced intothe last quarter of the seventeenth century. The precise moment at whichthe action of the tale must re-commence, was that period of the day whenthe gray of twilight was redeeming objects from the deep darkness withwhich the night draws to its close. The month was June, and the scene suchas it may be necessary to describe with some particularity.

Had there been light, and had one been favorably placed to enjoy abird's-eye view of the spot, he would have seen a broad and undulatingfield of leafy forest, in which the various deciduous trees of New-Englandwere relieved by the deeper verdure of occasional masses of evergreens. Inthe centre of this swelling and nearly interminable outline of woods, wasa valley that spread between three low mountains. Over the bottom-land,for the distance of several miles, all the signs of a settlement in astate of rapid and prosperous improvement were visible. The devious courseof a deep and swift brook, that in the other hemisphere would have beentermed a river, was to be traced through the meadows by its borders ofwillow and sumach. At a point near the centre of the valley, the watershad been arrested by a small dam; and a mill, whose wheel at that earlyhour was without motion, stood on the artificial mound. Near it was thesite 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 ofboards. There was a surprising air of equality in the general aspect ofthe houses; and, if there were question of any country but our own, itmight be added there was an unusual appearance of comfort and abundance ineven the humblest of them all. They were mostly of two low stories, thesuperior overhanging the inferior, by a foot or two; a mode ofconstruction much in use in the earlier days of the Eastern Colonies. Aspaint was but little used at that time, none of the buildings exhibited acolor different from that the wood would naturally assume, after theexposure of a few years to the weather. Each had its single chimney in thecentre of the roof, and but two or three showed more than a solitarywindow on each side of the principal or outer door. In front of everydwelling was a small neat court, in green sward, separated from the publicroad by a light fence of deal. Double rows of young and vigorous elmslined each side of the wide street, while an enormous sycamore still keptpossession of the spot, in its centre, which it had occupied when thewhite man entered the forest. Beneath the shade of this tree theinhabitants often collected, to gather tidings of each others welfare, orto listen to some matter of interest that rumor had borne from the townsnearer the sea. A narrow and little-used wheel-track ran, with a gracefuland sinuous route, through the centre of the wide and grassy street.Reduced in appearance to little more than a bridle-path, it was to betraced, without the hamlet, between high fences of wood, for a mile ortwo, to the points where it entered the forest. Here and there, roses werepressing through the openings of the fences before the doors of thedifferent habitations, and bushes of fragrant lilacs stood in the anglesof most of the courts.

The dwellings were detached. Each occupied its own insulated plot ofground, with a garden in its rear. The out-buildings were thrown to thatdistance which the cheapness of land, and security from fire, renderedboth easy and expedient.

The church stood in the centre of the highway, and near one end of thehamlet. In the exterior and ornaments of the important temple, the tasteof the times had been fastidiously consulted, its form and simplicityfurnishing no slight resemblance to the self-denying doctrines and quainthumors of the religionists who worshipped beneath its roof. The building,like all the rest, was of wood, and externally of two stories. Itpossessed a tower, without a spire; the former alone serving to betray itssacred character. In the construction of this edifice, especial care hadbeen taken to eschew all deviations from direct lines and right angles.Those narrow-arched passages for the admission of light, that areelsewhere so common, were then thought, by the stern moralists ofNew-England, to have some mysterious connexion with her of the scarletmantle. The priest would as soon have thought of appearing before hisflock in the vanities of stole and cassock, as the congregation ofadmitting the repudiated ornaments into the outline of their severearchitecture. Had the Genii of the Lamp suddenly exchanged the windows ofthe sacred edifice with those of the inn that stood nearly opposite, theclosest critic of the settlement could never have detected the liberty,since, in the form, dimensions, and style of the two, there was no visibledifference.

A little inclosure, at no great distance from the church, and on one sideof the street, had been set apart for the final resting-place of those whohad finished their race on earth. It contained but a solitary grave.

The inn was to be distinguished from the surrounding buildings, by itssuperior size, an open horse-shed, and a sort of protruding air, withwhich it thrust itself on the line of the street, as if to invite thetraveller to enter. A sign swung on a gallows-looking post, that, inconsequence of frosty nights and warm days, had already deviated from theperpendicular. It bore a conceit that, at the first glance, might havegladdened the heart of a naturalist, with the belief that he had made thediscovery of some unknown bird. The artist, however, had sufficientlyprovided against the consequences of so embarrassing a blunder, byconsiderately writing beneath the offspring of his pencil, "This is thesign of the Whip-Poor-Will;" a name, that the most unlettered traveller,in those regions, would be likely to know was vulgarly given to theWish-Ton-Wish, or the American night-hawk.

But few relics of the forest remained immediately around the hamlet. Thetrees had long been felled, and sufficient time had elapsed to remove mostof the vestiges of their former existence. But as the eye receded from thecluster of buildings, the signs of more recent inroads on the wildernessbecame apparent, until the view terminated with openings, in which piledlogs and mazes of felled trees announced the recent use of the axe.

At that early day, the American husbandman like the agriculturists of mostof Europe, dwelt in his village. The dread of violence from the savageshad given rise to a custom similar to that which, centuries before, hadbeen produced in the other hemisphere by the inroads of more pretendingbarbarians, and which, with few and distant exceptions, has deprived ruralscenery of a charm that, it would seem, time and a better condition ofsociety are slow to repair. Some remains of this ancient practice arestill 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 scatteredfields in its neighborhood. Still, as man has never been the subject of asystem here, and as each individual has always had the liberty ofconsulting his own temper, bolder spirits early began to break through apractice, by which quite as much was lost in convenience as was gained insecurity. Even in the scene we have been describing, ten or twelve humblehabitations were distributed among the recent clearings on the sides ofthe mountains, and in situations too remote to promise much securityagainst any sudden inroad of the common enemy.

For general protection, in cases of the last extremity, however, astockaded dwelling, not unlike that which we have had occasion todescribe in our earlier pages, stood in a convenient spot near thehamlet. Its defences were stronger and more elaborate than usual, thepickets being furnished with flanking block-houses; and, in otherrespects, the building bore the aspect of a work equal to any resistancethat might be required in the warfare of those regions. The ordinaryhabitation of the priest was within its gates; and hither most of thesick were timely conveyed, in order to anticipate the necessity ofremovals at more inconvenient moments.

It is scarcely necessary to tell the American, that heavy wooden fencessubdivided the whole of this little landscape into inclosures of someeight or ten acres in extent; that, here and there, cattle and flocks weregrazing without herdsmen or shepherds, and that, while the fields nearestto the dwellings were beginning to assume the appearance of a careful andimproved husbandry, those more remote became gradually wilder and lesscultivated, until the half-reclaimed openings, with their blackened stubsand barked trees, were blended with the gloom of the living forest. Theseare, more or less, the accompaniments of every rural scene, in districtsof the country where time has not yet effected more than the first twostages of improvement.

At the distance of a short half-mile from the fortified house, orgarrison, as by a singular corruption of terms the stockaded building wascalled, stood a dwelling of pretensions altogether superior to any in thehamlet. The buildings in question, though simple, were extensive; andthough scarcely other than such as might belong to an agriculturist ineasy circumstances, still they were remarkable, in that settlement, by thecomforts which time alone could accumulate, and some of which denoted anadvanced condition for a frontier family. In short, there was an air aboutthe establishment, as in the disposition of its out-buildings, in thesuperior workmanship, in the materials, and in numberless other well-knowncircumstances, which went to show that the whole of the edifices werere-constructions. The fields near this habitation exhibited smoothersurfaces than those in the distance; the fences were lighter and lessrude; the stumps had absolutely disappeared, and the gardens and homesteadwere well planted with flourishing fruit-trees. A conical eminence arose,at a short distance, in the rear of the principal dwelling. It was coveredwith that beautiful and peculiar ornament of an American farm, a regular,thrifty, and luxuriant apple-orchard. Still, age had not given its fullbeauty to the plantation, which might have had a growth of some eight orten years. A blackened tower of stone, which sustained the charred ruinsof a superstructure of wood, though of no great height in itself, roseabove the tallest of the trees, and stood a sufficient memorial of somescene of violence, in the brief history of the valley. There was also asmall block-house near the habitation; but, by the air of neglect thatreigned around, it was quite apparent the little work had been of ahurried construction, and of but temporary use. A few young plantations offruit-trees were also to be seen in different parts of the valley, whichwas beginning to exhibit many other evidences of an improved agriculture.

So far as all these artificial changes went, they were of an Englishcharacter. 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 theview, an air of abundance and comfort that is so often wanting about thedwellings of the comparatively rich, in countries where man is foundbearing a far greater numerical proportion to the soil, than was then, oris even now the case, in the regions of which we write.

"Come hither, neighbor Sea-coal--God hath blessed you with a good name: to be a well-favored man is the gift of fortune; but to write and read comes by Nature."

Much Ado about Nothing.

It has already been said, that the hour at which the action of the talemust re-commence, was early morning. The usual coolness of night, in acountry extensively covered with wood, had passed, and the warmth of asummer morning, in that low latitude, was causing the streaks of lightvapor, that floated about the meadows, to rise above the trees. Thefeathery patches united to form a cloud that sailed away towards thesummit of a distant mountain, which appeared to be a common rendezvous forall the mists that had been generated by the past hours of darkness.

Though the burnished sky announced his near approach, the sun was not yetvisible. Notwithstanding the earliness of the hour, a man was alreadymounting a little ascent in the road, at no great distance from thesouthern entrance of the hamlet, and at a point where he could command aview of all the objects described in the preceding chapter. A musketthrown across his left shoulder, with the horn and pouch at his sides,together with the little wallet at his back, proclaimed him one who hadeither been engaged in a hunt, or in some short expedition of even a lesspeaceable character. His dress was of the usual material and fashion of acountryman of the age and colony, though a short broadsword, that wasthrust through a wampum belt which girded his body, might have attractedobservation. In all other respects, he had the air of an inhabitant of thehamlet, who had found occasion to quit his abode on some affair ofpleasure or of duty, that had made no very serious demand on his time.

Whether native or stranger, few ever passed the hillock named, withoutpausing to gaze at the quiet loveliness of the cluster of houses that layin full view from its summit. The individual mentioned loitered as usual,but, instead of following the line of the path, his eye rather sought someobject in the direction of the fields. Moving leisurely to the nearestfence, he threw down the upper rails of a pair of bars, and beckoned to ahorseman, who was picking his way across a broken bit of pasture land, toenter the highway by the passage he had opened.

"Put the spur smartly into the pacer's flank," said he who had done thisact of civility, observing that the other hesitated to urge his beastacross the irregular and somewhat scattered pile; "my word for it, thejade goes over them all, without touching with more than three of her fourfeet. Fie, doctor! there is never a cow in the Wish-Ton-Wish, but it wouldtake the leap to be in the first at the milking."

"Softly, Ensign;" returned the timid equestrian, laying the emphasis onthe final syllable of his companion's title, and pronouncing the first asif it were spelt with the third instead of the second vowel.

"Thy courage is meet for one set apart for deeds of valor, but it would bea sorrowful day when the ailing of the valley should knock at my door, anda broken limb be made the apology for want of succor. Thy efforts willnot avail thee, man; for the mare hath had schooling, as well as hermaster. I have trained the beast to methodical habits, and she hath cometo have a rooted dislike to all irregularities of movement. So, ceasetugging at the rein, as if thou wouldst compel her to pass the pile inspite of her teeth, and throw down the upper bar altogether."

"A doctor in these rugged parts should be mounted on one of these amblingbirds of which we read," said the other, removing the obstacle to thesecure passage of his friend; "for truly a journey at night, in the pathsof these clearings, is not always as safe moving as that which is said tobe enjoyed by the settlers nearer sea."

"And where hast found mention of a bird of a size and velocity fit to bethe bearer of the weight of a man?" demanded he who was mounted, with avivacity that betrayed some jealousy on the subject of a monopoly oflearning. "I had thought there was never a book in the valley, out of mineown closet, that dealeth in these abstrusities!"

"Dost think the scriptures are strangers to us? There--thou art now in thepublic path, and thy journey is without danger. It is matter of marvel tomany in this settlement, how thou movest about at midnight, amongstupturned roots of trees, holes, logs and stumps, without falling--"

"I have told thee, Ensign, it is by virtue of much training given to thebeast. Certain am I, that neither whip nor spur would compel the animal topass the bounds of discretion. Often have I travelled this bridle-path,without fear as in truth without danger, when sight was a sense of aslittle use as that of smelling."

"I was about to say, falling into thine own hands, which would be atumble of little less jeopardy than even that of the wicked spirits."

The medical man affected to laugh at his companion's joke; but,remembering the dignity suited to one of his calling, he immediatelyresumed the discourse with gravity--

"These may be matters of levity, with those who know little of thehardships that are endured in the practice of the settlements. Here have Ibeen on yonder mountain, guided by the instinct of my horse--"

"Ha! hath there been a call at the dwelling of my brother Ring?" demandedthe pedestrian, observing, by the direction of the other's eye, the roadhe had been travelling.

"Truly, there hath; and at the unseasonable hour that is wont, in a veryunreasonable proportion of the cases of my practice."

"And Reuben numbereth another boy to the four that he could countyesterday?"

The medical man held up three of his fingers, in a significant manner, ashe nodded assent.

"This putteth Faith something in arrears," returned he who has been calledEnsign, and who was no other than the reader's old acquaintance EbenDudley, preferred to that station in the train-band of the valley. "Theheart of my brother Reuben will be gladdened by these tidings, when heshall return from the scout."

"There will be occasion for thankfulness, since he will find seven beneatha roof where he left but four!"

"I will close the bargain with the young captain for the mountain lot,this very day!" muttered Dudley, like one suddenly convinced of theprudence of a long-debated measure. "Seven pounds of the colony moneyis no usurer's price, after all, for a hundred acres ofheavily-timbered land; and they in full view of a settlement whereboys come three at a time!"

The equestrian stopped his horse, and regarding his companion intently andwith a significant air, he answered--

"Thou hast now fallen on the clue of an important mystery, Ensign Dudley.This continent was created with a design. The fact is apparent by itsriches, its climate, its magnitude, its facilities of navigation, andchiefly in that it hath been left undiscovered until the advancedcondition of society hath given opportunity and encouragement to men of acertain degree of merit, to adventure in its behalf. Consider, neighbor,the wonderful progress it hath already made in the arts and in learning,in reputation and in resources, and thou wilt agree with me in theconclusion that all this hath been done with a design."

"'Twould be presuming to doubt it; for he hath indeed a short memory, towhom it shall be necessary to recall the time when this very valley waslittle other than a den for beasts of prey, and this beaten highway, adeer-track. Dost think that Reuben will be like to raise the whole of therecent gift?"

"With judgment, and by the blessing of Providence. The mind is active,Ensign Dudley, when the body is journeying among the forests; and muchhave my thoughts been exercised in this matter, whilst thou and othershave been in your slumbers. Here have we the colonies in their firstcentury, and yet thou knowest to what a pass of improvement they havearrived. They tell me the Hartford settlement is getting to be apportionedlike the towns of mother England, that there is reason to think the daymay come when the provinces shall have a power, and a convenience ofculture and communication, equalling that which belongeth to some parts ofthe venerable island itself!"

"Nay, nay, Doctor Ergot," returned the other with an incredulous smile,"that is exceeding the bounds of a discretionable expectation."

"Thou wilt remember that I said equalling to certain parts. I think wemay justly imagine, that ere many centuries shall elapse, there may bemillions counted in these regions, and truly that, too, where one seethnought, at present, but the savage and the beast."

"I will go with any man, in this question, as far as reason will justify;but doubtless thou hast read in the books uttered by writers over sea, thematters concerning the condition of those countries, wherein it is plainthat we may never hope to reach the exalted excellence they enjoy."

"Neighbor Dudley, thou seemest disposed to push an unguarded expression toextremity. I said equalling certain parts, meaning always, too, incertain things. Now it is known in philosophy, that the stature of manhath degenerated, and must degenerate in these regions, in obedience toestablished laws of nature; therefore it is meet that allowance should bemade for some deficiency in less material qualities."

"It is like, then, that the better sort of the men over sea areill-disposed to quit their country," returned the Ensign, glancing an eyeof some unbelief along the muscular proportions of his own vigorous frame."We have no less than three from the old countries in our village, here,and yet I do not find them men like to have been sought for at thebuilding of Babel."

"This is settling a knotty and learned point by the evidence of a fewshallow exceptions. I presume to tell you, Ensign Dudley, that thescience, and wisdom, and philosophy of Europe, have been exceeding activein this matter; and they proved to their own perfect satisfaction, whichis the same thing as disposing of the question without appeal, that manand beast, plant and tree, hill and dale, lake and pond, sun, air, fireand water, are all wanting in some of the perfectness of the olderregions. I respect a patriotic sentiment, and can carry the disposition toapplaud the bounties received from the hands of a beneficent Creator asfar as any man; but that which hath been demonstrated by science, orcollected by learning, is placed too far beyond the objections oflight-minded cavillers, to be doubted by graver faculties."

"I shall not contend against things that are proven," returned Dudley, whowas quite as meek in discussion as he was powerful and active in morephysical contests; "since it needs be that the learning of men in the oldcountries must have an exceeding excellence, in virtue of its great age.It would be a visit to remember, should some of its rare advantages bedispersed in these our own youthful regions!"

"And can it be said that our mental wants have been forgotten--that thenakedness of the mind hath been suffered to go without its comelyvestment, neighbor Dudley? To me, it seemeth, that therein we haveunwonted reason to rejoice, and that the equilibrium of nature is in amanner restored by the healing exercises of art. It is unseemly in anunenlightened province, to insist on qualities that have been discreetlydisproven; but learning is a transferable and communicable gift, and it ismeet to affirm that it is to be found here, in quantities adapted to thewants of the colony."

"I'll not gainsay it, for having been more of an adventurer in the forestthan one who hath travelled in quest of sights among the settlements alongthe sea-shore, it may happen that many things are to be seen there, ofwhich my poor abilities have formed no opinion."

"And are we utterly unenlightened, even in this distant valley, Ensign?"returned the leech, leaning over the neck of his horse, and addressing hiscompanion in a mild and persuasive tone, that he had probably acquired inhis extensive practice among the females of the settlement. "Are we to beclassed with the heathen in knowledge, or to be accounted as theunnurtured men who are known once to have roamed through these forests inquest of their game? Without assuming any infallibility of judgment, oraspiring to any peculiarity of information, it doth not appear to mydefective understanding, Master Dudley, that the progress of thesettlement hath ever been checked for want of necessary foresight, northat the growth of reason among us hath ever been stunted from any lack ofmental aliment. Our councils are not barren of wisdom, Ensign, nor hath itoften arrived that abstrusities have been propounded, that some oneintellect, to say no more in our own favor, hath not been known to grapplewith, successfully."

"That there are men, or perhaps I ought to say that there is aman, in the valley, who is equal to many marvels in the way ofenlightened gifts--"

"I knew we should come to peaceable conclusions, Ensign Dudley,"interrupted the other, rising erect in his saddle, with an air of appeaseddignity; "for I have ever found you a discreet and consequent reasoner,and one who is never known to resist conviction, when truth is pressedwith understanding. That the men from over sea are not often so wellgifted as some--we will say, for the sake of a convenient illustration, asthyself, Ensign--is placed beyond the reach of debate, since sightteacheth us that numberless exceptions may be found to all the moregeneral and distinctive laws of nature. I think we are not likely to carryour disagreement further?"

"It is impossible to make head against one so ready with his knowledge,"returned the other, well content to exist in his own person a strikingexception to the inferiority of his fellows; "though it appeareth to methat my brother Ring might be chosen, as another instance of a reasonablestature, a fact that thou mayst see, Doctor, by regarding him as heapproaches through yon meadow. He hath been, like myself, on the scoutamong the mountains."

"There are many instances of physical merit among thy connexions, MasterDudley," returned the complaisant physician; "though it would seem thatthy brother hath not found his companion among them. He is attended by anill-grown, and, it may be added, an ill-favored comrade, that I know not."

"Ha! It would seem that Reuben hath fallen on the trail of savages! Theman in company is certainly in paint and blanket. It may be well to pauseat yonder opening, and await their coming."

As this proposition imposed no particular inconvenience, the Doctorreadily assented. The two drew nigh to the place where the men, whomthey saw crossing the fields in the distance, were expected to enterthe highway.

But little time was lost in attendance. Ere many minutes had elapsed,Reuben Ring, accoutred and armed like the borderer already introducedin this chapter, arrived at the opening, followed by the strangerwhose appearance had caused so much surprise to those who watchedtheir approach.

"What now, Sergeant," exclaimed Dudley, when the other was withinear-shot, speaking a little in the manner of one who had legal right topropound his questions; "hast fallen on a trail of the savage, and made acaptive? or hath some owl permitted one of its brood to fall from thenest across thy foot-path?"

"I believe the creature may be accounted a man," returned the successfulReuben, throwing the breech of his gun to the earth, and leaning on itslong barrel, while he intently regarded the half-painted, vacant, andextremely equivocal countenance of his captive. "He hath the colors of aNarragansett about the brow and eyes, and yet he faileth greatly in theform and movements."

"There are anomalies in the physicals of an Indian, as in those of othermen," interrupted Doctor Ergot, with a meaning glance at Dudley. "Theconclusion of our neighbor Ring may be too hasty, since paint is the fruitof art, and may be applied to any of our faces, after an establishedusage. But the evidences of nature are far less to be distrusted. It hathcome within the province of my studies, to note the differences information which occur in the different families of man; and nothing ismore readily to be known, to an eye skilled in these abstrusities, thanthe aboriginal of the tribe Narragansett. Set the man more in a positionof examination, neighbors, and it shall shortly be seen to which race hebelongs. Thou wilt note in this little facility of investigation, Ensign,a clear evidence of most of the matters that have this morning beenagitated between us. Doth the patient speak English?"

"Therein have I found some difficulty of inquiry," returned Reuben, or ashe should now be, and as he was usually called, Sergeant Ring. "He hathbeen spoken to in the language of a Christian, no less than in that of aheathen, and as yet no reply hath been made, while he obeys commandsuttered in both forms of speech."

"It mattereth not," said Ergot, dismounting and drawing near to hissubject, with a look towards Dudley that should seem to court hisadmiration.

"Happily the examination before me leaneth but little on any subtletiesof speech. Let the man be placed in an attitude of ease; one in whichnature may not be fettered by restraint. The conformation of the wholehead is remarkably aboriginal, but the distinction of tribes is not to besought in these general delineations. The forehead, as you see, neighbors,is retreating and narrow, the cheek-bones, as usual, high, and theolfactory member, as in all of the natives, inclining to Roman."

"Now to me it would seem that the nose of the man hath a markedupturning at the end," Dudley ventured to remark, as the other ranvolubly over the general and well-known distinctive points of physicalconstruction in an Indian.

"As an exception! Thou seest, Ensign, by this elevation of the bone, andthe protuberance of the more fleshy parts, that the peculiarity is anexception. I should rather have said that the nose originally inclined tothe Roman. The departure from regularity has been produced by somecasualty of their warfare, such as a blow from a tomahawk, or the gash ofa knife--ay! here thou seest the scar left by the weapon! It is concealedby the paint, but remove that, and you will find it hath all the form of acicatrice of a corresponding shape. These departures from generalitieshave a tendency to confound pretenders; a happy circumstance, in itself,for the progress of knowledge on fixed principles. Place the subject moreerect, that we may see the natural movement of the muscles. Here is anevidence of great aquatic habits in the dimensions of the foot, which goto confirm original conceptions. It is a happy proof, through which,reasonable and prudent conclusions confirm the quick-sighted glances ofpractice. I pronounce the fellow to be a Narragansett."

"Is it then a Narragansett that hath a foot to confound a trail?"returned Eben Dudley, who had been studying the movements and attitudes ofthe captive with quite as much keenness, and with something more ofunderstanding, than the leech. "Brother Ring, hast ever known an Indianleave such an out-turning foot-print on the leaves?"

"Ensign, I marvel that a man of thy discretion should dwell on a slightvariety of movement, when a case exists in which the laws of nature may betraced to their sources. This training for the Indian troubles hath madethee critical in the position of a foot. I have said that the fellow is aNarragansett, and what I have uttered hath not been lightly ventured. Hereis the peculiar formation of the foot, which hath been obtained ininfancy, a fullness in the muscles of the breast and shoulders, fromunusual exercise in an element denser than the air, and a nicerconstruction in--"

The physician paused, for Dudley had coolly advanced to the captive, and,raising the thin robe of deer-skin which was thrown over the whole of hissuperior members, he exposed the unequivocal skin of a white man. Thiswould have proved an embarrassing refutation to one accustomed to theconflict of wits; but monopoly, in certain branches of knowledge, hadproduced in favor of Doctor Ergot an acknowledged superiority, that, inits effects, might be likened to the predominating influence of any otheraristocracy, on those faculties that have been benumbed by its operation.His opinion changed, which is more than can be said of his countenance,for, with the readiness of invention which is so often practised in thefelicitous institutions we have named, and by which the reasoning insteadof regulating is adapted to the practice, he exclaimed with uplifted handsand eyes that bespoke the fullness of his admiration--

"Here have we another proof of the wonderful agency by which the changesin nature are gradually wrought! Now do we see in this Narragansett--"

"The man is white!" interrupted Dudley, tapping the naked shoulder, whichhe still held exposed to view.

"White, but not a tittle the less a Narragansett. Your captive, beyond adoubt, oweth his existence to Christian parentage, but accident haththrown him early among the aboriginals, and all those parts, which wereliable to change, were fast getting to assume the peculiarities of thetribe. He is one of those beautiful and connecting links in the chain ofknowledge, by which science followeth up its deductions to demonstration."

"I should ill brook coming to harm for doing violence to a subject of theKing," said Reuben Ring, a steady, open-faced yeoman, who thought far lessof the subtleties of his companion, than of discharging his social dutiesin a manner fitting the character of a quiet and well-conditioned citizen."We have had so much of stirring tidings, latterly, concerning the mannerthe savages conduct their warfare, that it behoveth men in place of trustto be vigilant; for," glancing his eyes towards the ruin of the distantblock-house, "thou knowest, brother Dudley, that we have occasion to bewatchful, in a settlement as deep in the forest as this."

"I will answer for the indemnity, Sergeant Ring," said Dudley, with an airof dignity. "I take upon myself the keeping of this stranger, and will seethat he be borne, properly and in fitting season, before the authorities.In the mean time, duty hath caused us to overlook matters of moment in thyhousehold, which it may be seemly to communicate. Abundance hath not beenneglectful of thy interests, during the scout."

"What!" demanded the husband, with rather more of earnestness than wasgenerally exhibited by one of habits as restrained as his own; "hath thewoman called upon the neighbors, during my absence?"

Dudley nodded an assent.

"And shall I find another boy beneath my roof?"

Doctor Ergot nodded three times with a gravity that might have suited acommunication even more weighty than the one he made.

"Thy woman rarely doth a good turn by halves, Reuben. Thou wilt find thatshe hath made provision for a successor to our good neighbor Ergot, sincea seventh son is born in thy house."

The broad, honest face of the father flushed with joy, and then a feelingless selfish came over him. He asked, with a slight tremor in the voice,that was none the less touching for coming from the lips of one so stoutof frame and firm of movement--

"And the woman?--in what manner doth Abundance bear up under theblessing?"

"Bravely," returned the leech; "go to thy dwelling, Sergeant Ring, andpraise God that there is one to look to its concerns, in thy absence. Hewho hath received the gift of seven sons, in five years, need never be apoor nor a dependent man, in a country like this. Seven farms, added tothat pretty homestead of mountain-land which thou now tillest, will renderthee a patriarch in thine age, and sustain the name of Ring, hundreds ofyears hence, when these colonies shall become peopled and powerful, and, Isay it boldly, caring not who may call me one that vaunteth out of reason,equal to some of your lofty and self-extolled kingdoms of Europe--ay, evenperadventure to the mighty sovereignty of Portugal, itself! I haveenumerated thy future farms at seven, for the allusion of the Ensign tothe virtues of men born with natural propensities to the healing art,must be taken as pleasant speech, since it is a mere delusion of oldwives' fancy, and it would be particularly unnecessary, here, where everyreasonable situation of this nature is already occupied. Go to thy wife,Sergeant, and bid her be of good cheer; for she hath done herself, thee,and thy country, a service, and that without dabbling in pursuits foreignto her comprehension."The sturdy yeoman, on whom this rich gift of Providence had beendispensed, raised his hat, and placing it decently before his face, heoffered up a silent thanksgiving for the favor. Then, transferring hiscaptive to the keeping of his superior and kinsman, he was soon seenstriding over the fields towards his upland dwelling, with a heavy foot,though with a light heart.

In the mean time, Dudley and his companion bestowed a more particularattention on the silent and nearly motionless object of their curiosity.Though the captive appeared to be of middle age, his eye was unmeaning,his air timid and uncertain, and his form cringing and ungainly. In allthese particulars, he was seen to differ from the known peculiarities of anative warrior.

Previously to departing, Reuben Ring had explained, that while traversingthe woods, on that duty of watchfulness to which the state of the colonyand some recent signs had given rise, this wandering person had beenencountered and secured, as seemed necessary to the safety of thesettlement. He had neither sought nor avoided his captor; but whenquestioned concerning his tribe, his motive for traversing those hills,and his future intentions, no satisfactory reply could be extracted. Hehad scarcely spoken, and the little that he said was uttered in a jargonbetween the language of his interrogator and the dialect of some barbarousnation. Though there was much in the actual state of the colonies, and inthe circumstances in which this wanderer had been found, to justify hisdetention, little had in truth been discovered, to supply a clue either toany material facts in his history, or to any of his views in being in theimmediate vicinity of the valley.

Guided only by this barren information, Dudley and his companionendeavored, as they moved towards the hamlet, to entrap their prisonerinto some confession of his object, by putting their questions with asagacity not unusual to men in remote and difficult situations, wherenecessity and danger are apt to keep alive all the native energies ofthe human mind. The answers were little connected and unintelligible,sometimes seeming to exhibit the finest subtlety of savage cunning, andat others to possess the mental helplessness of appearing the mostabject fatuity.

"I am not prone to weeping, as our sex
Commonly are;--
But I have
That honorable grief lodged here, which burns
Worse than tears drown."

Winter's Tale.

If the pen of a compiler, like that we wield, possessed the mechanicalpower of the stage, it would be easy to shift the scenes of this legend asrapidly and effectively as is required for its right understanding, andfor the proper maintenance of its interest. That which cannot be done withthe magical aid of machinery, must be attempted by less ambitious, and wefear by far less efficacious means.

At the same early hour of the day, and at no great distance from the spotwhere Dudley announced his good fortune to his brother Ring, anothermorning meeting had place, between persons of the same blood andconnexions. From the instant when the pale light, that precedes the day,was first seen in the heavens, the windows and doors of the considerabledwelling, on the opposite side of the valley, had been unbarred. Ere theglow of the sun had gilded the sky over the outline of the eastern woods,this example of industry and providence was followed by the inmates ofevery house in the village, or on the surrounding hills; and, by the timethe golden globe itself was visible above the trees, there was not a humanbeing in all that settlement, of proper age and health, who was notactively afoot.

It is unnecessary to say that the dwelling particularly named was thepresent habitation of the household of Mark Heathcote. Though age hadsapped the foundations of his strength, and had nearly dried the channelsof his existence, the venerable religionist still lived. While hisphysical perfection had been gradually giving way before the ordinarydecay of nature, the moral man was but little altered. It is even probablethat his visions of futurity were less dimmed by the mists of carnalinterests than when last seen, and that the spirit had gained some portionof that energy which had certainly been abstracted from the more corporealparts of his existence. At the hour already named, the Puritan was seatedin the piazza, which stretched along the whole front of a dwelling, that,however it might be deficient in architectural proportions, was notwanting in the more substantial comforts of a spacious and commodiousfrontier residence. In order to obtain a faithful portrait of a man sointimately connected with our tale, the reader will fancy him one who hadnumbered four-score and ten years, with a visage on which deep andconstant mental striving had wrought many and menacing furrows, a formthat trembled while it yet exhibited the ruins of powerful limb andflexible muscle, and a countenance in which ascetic reflections hadengraved a severity, that was but faintly relieved by the gleamings of anatural kindness, which no acquired habits, nor any traces of metaphysicalthought, could ever entirely erase. Across this picture of venerable andself-mortifying age, the first rays of the sun were now softly cast,lighting a dimmed eye and furrowed face with a look of brightness andpeace. Perhaps the blandness of the expression belonged as much to theseason and hour, as to the habitual character of the man. This benignancyof feature, unusual rather in its strength than in its existence, mighthave been heightened by the fact that his spirit had just wrought inprayer, as was usual, in the circle of his children and dependants, erethey left those retired parts of the building where they had found restand security during the night. Of the former, none known and cherished inthe domestic circle had been absent; and the ample provision that wasmaking for the morning meal, sufficiently showed that the number of thelatter had in no degree diminished since the reader was familiar with thedomestic economy of his household.

Time had produced no very striking alteration in the appearance ofContent. It is true that the brown hue of his features had deepened, andthat his frame was beginning to lose some of its elasticity and ease ofaction, in the more measured movements of middle age. But the governedtemperament of the individual had always kept the animal in more thanusual subjection. Even his earlier days had rather exhibited the promisethan the performance of the ordinary youthful qualities. Mental gravityhad long before produced a corresponding physical effect. In reference tohis exterior, and using the language of the painter, it would now be said,that, without having wrought any change in form and proportions, thecolors had been mellowed by time. If a few hairs of gray were sprinkled,here and there, around his brow, it was as moss gathers on the stones ofthe edifice, rather furnishing evidence of its increased adhesion andapproved stability, than denoting any symptoms of decay.

Not so with his gentle and devoted partner. That softness and sweetness ofair which had first touched the heart of Content was still to be seen,though it existed amid the traces of a constant and a corroding grief. Thefreshness of youth had departed, and in its place was visible the morelasting, and, in her case, the more affecting beauty of expression. Theeye of Ruth had lost none of its gentleness, and her smile still continuedkind and attractive; but the former was often painfully vacant, seeming tolook inward upon those secret and withering sources of sorrow that weredeeply and almost mysteriously seated in her heart; while the latterresembled the cold brightness of that planet, which illumines objects byrepelling the borrowed lustre from its own bosom. The matronly form, thefeminine beaming of the countenance, and the melodious voice, yetremained; but the first had been shaken till it stood on the very verge ofa premature decay, the second had a mingling of anxious care in its mostsympathetic movements, and the last was seldom without that fearful thrillwhich so deeply affects the senses, by conveying to the understanding ameaning so foreign from the words. And yet an uninterested and ordinaryobserver might not have seen, in the faded comeliness and blightedmaturity of the matron, more than the every-day signs that betray the turnin the tide of human existence. As befitted such a subject, the coloringof sorrow had been traced by a hand too delicate to leave the linesvisible to every vulgar eye. Like the master-touches of art, her grief, asit was beyond the sympathies, so it lay beyond the ken of those whomexcellence may fail to excite, or in whom absence can deaden affections.Still her feelings were true to all who had any claims on her love. Thepredominance of wasting grief over the more genial springs of herenjoyments, only went to prove how much greater is the influence of thegenerous than the selfish qualities of our nature, in a heart that istruly endowed with tenderness. It is scarce necessary to say, that thisgentle and constant woman sorrowed for her child.

Had Ruth Heathcote known that the girl ceased to live, it would not havebeen difficult for one of her faith to have deposited her regrets by theside of hopes that were so justifiable, in the grave of the innocent. Butthe living death to which her offspring might be condemned, was rarelyabsent from her thoughts. She listened to the maxims of resignation, whichwere heard flowing from lips she loved with the fondness of a woman andthe meekness of a Christian; and then, even while the holy lessons werestill sounding in her attentive organs, the workings of an unconquerablenature led her insidiously back to the sorrow of a mother.

The imagination of this devoted and feminine being had never possessed anundue control over her reason. Her visions of happiness with the man whomher judgment not less than her inclination approved, had been such asexperience and religion might justify. But she was now fated to learnthere is a fearful poetry in sorrow, which can sketch with a grace and animaginative power that no feebler efforts of a heated fancy may everequal. She heard the sweet breathing of her slumbering infant in thewhispering of the summer airs; its plaints came to her ears amid thehowlings of the gale; while the eager question and fond reply were mixedup with the most ordinary intercourse of her own household. To her thelaugh of childish happiness that often came on the still air of eveningfrom the hamlet, sounded like the voice of mourning; and scarce aninfantile sport met her eye, that did not bring with it a pang of anguish.Twice, since the events of the inroad, had she been a mother; and, as ifan eternal blight were doomed to destroy her hopes, the little creaturesto whom she had given birth, slept, side by side, near the base of theruined block. Thither she often went, but it was rather to be the victimof those cruel images of her fancy, than as a mourner. Her visions of thedead were calm and even consolatory, but if ever her thoughts mounted tothe abodes of eternal peace, and her feeble fancy essayed to embody theforms of the blessed, her mental eye sought her who was not, rather thanthose who were believed to be secure in their felicity. Wasting anddelusory as were these glimpses of the mind, there were others far moreharrowing, because they presented themselves with more of the coarse andcertain features of the world. It was the common, and perhaps it was thebetter, opinion of the inhabitants of the valley, that death had earlysealed the fate of those who had fallen into the hands of the savages onthe occasion of the inroad. Such a result was in conformity with the knownpractices and ruthless passions of the conquerors, who seldom spared life,unless to render revenge more cruelly refined, or to bring consolation tosome bereaved mother of the tribe, by offering a substitute for the deadin the person of a captive. There was relief, to picture the face of thelaughing cherub in the clouds, or to listen to its light footstep in theempty halls of the dwelling; for in these illusive images of the brain,suffering was confined to her own bosom. But when stern reality usurpedthe place of fancy, and she saw her living daughter shivering in thewintry blasts or sinking beneath the fierce heats of the climate,cheerless in the desolation of female servitude, and suffering meekly thelot of physical weakness beneath a savage master, she endured that anguishwhich was gradually exhausting the springs of life.

Though the father was not altogether exempt from similar sorrow, it besethim less ceaselessly. He knew how to struggle with the workings of hismind, as best became a man. Though strongly impressed with the belief thatthe captives had early been put beyond the reach of suffering, he hadneglected no duty, which tenderness to his sorrowing partner, parentallove, or Christian duty, could require at his hands.

The Indians had retired on the crust of the snow, and with the thaw everyfoot-print, or sign, by which such wary foes might be traced, hadvanished. It remained matter of doubt to what tribe or even to whatnation, the marauders belonged. The peace of the colony had not yet beenopenly broken, and the inroad had been rather a violent and fierce symptomof the evils that were contemplated, than the actual commencement of theruthless hostilities which had since ravaged the frontier. But whilepolicy had kept the colonists quiet, private affection omitted no rationalmeans of effecting the restoration of the sufferers, in the event of theirhaving been spared.

Scouts had passed among the conspiring and but half-peaceable tribes,nearest to the settlement, and rewards and menaces had both been liberallyused, in order to ascertain the character of the savages who had laidwaste the valley, as well as the more interesting fortunes of theirhapless victims. Every expedient to detect the truth had failed. TheNarragansetts affirmed that their constant enemies the Mohicans, actingwith their customary treachery, had plundered their English friends whilethe Mohicans vehemently threw back the imputation on the Narragansetts. Atother times, some Indians affected to make dark allusions to the hostilefeelings of fierce warriors, who, under the name of the Five Nations, wereknown to reside within the limits of the Dutch colony of New-Netherlands,and to dwell upon the jealousy of the Pale-faces who spoke a languagedifferent from that of the Yengeese. In short, inquiry had produced noresult; and Content, when he did permit his fancy to represent hisdaughter as still living, was forced to admit to himself the probabilitythat she might be buried far in the ocean of wilderness which then coveredmost of the surface of this continent.

Once, indeed, a rumor of an exciting nature had reached the family. Anitinerant trader, bound from the wilds of the interior to a mart on thesea-shore, had entered the valley. He brought with him a report, that achild, answering in some respects to the appearance which might now besupposed to belong to her who was lost, was living among the savages, onthe banks of the smaller lakes of the adjoining colony. The distance tothis spot was great; the path led through a thousand dangers, and theresult was far from certain. Yet it quickened hopes which had long beendormant. Ruth never urged any request that might involve serious hazard toher husband, and for many months the latter had even ceased to speak onthe subject. Still, nature was working powerfully within him. His eyes, atall times reflecting and calm, grew more thoughtful; deeper lines of caregathered about his brow; and at length, melancholy took possession of acountenance which was usually so placid.

It was at this precise period, that Eben Dudley chose to urge the suit, hehad always pressed after his own desultory fashion, on the decision ofFaith. One of those well-ordered accidents, which, from time to time, hadbrought the girl and the young borderer in private conversation, enabledhim to effect his design with sufficient clearness. Faith heard himwithout betraying any of her ordinary waywardness, and answered with aslittle prevarication as the subject seemed to demand.

"This is well, Eben Dudley," she said, "and it is no more than an honestgirl hath a right to hear, from one who hath taken as many means as thouto get into her favor. But he who would have his life tormented by me,hath a solemn duty to do, ere I listen to his wishes."

"I have been in the lower towns and studied their manner of life, and Ihave been upon the scouts of the colony, to keep the Indians in theirwigwams," returned her suitor, endeavoring to recount the feats ofmanliness that might reasonably be expected of one inclined to venture onso hazardous an experiment as matrimony. "The bargain with the youngCaptain for the hill-lot, and for a village homestead, is drawing near aclose: and as the neighbors will not be backward at the stone-bee, or theraising, I see nothing to--"

"Thou deceivest thyself, observant Dudley," interrupted the girl, "if thoubelievest eye of thine can see that which is to be sought, ere one and thesame fortune shall be the property of thee and me. Hast noted, Eben, themanner in which the cheek of the Madam hath paled, and how her eye isgetting sunken, since the time when the fur trader tarried with us, theweek of the storm?"

"I cannot say that there is much change in the wearing of the Madam,within the bearing of my memory," answered Dudley, who was neverremarkable for minute observations of this nature, however keen he mightprove in subjects more intimately connected with his daily pursuits. "Sheis not young and blooming as thou, Faith, nor is it often that we see--"

"I tell thee, man, that sorrow preyeth upon her form, and that she livethbut in the memory of the lost infant!"

"This is carrying mourning beyond the bounds of reason. The child is atpeace; as is thy brother, Whittal, beyond all manner of question. That wehave not discovered their bones, is owing to the fire, which left butlittle to tell of--"

"Thy head is a charnel-house, dull Dudley, but this picture of itsfurniture shall not suffice for me. The man who is to be my husband musthave a feeling for a mother's sorrows!"

"What is now getting uppermost in thy mind, Faith! Is it for me to bringback the dead to life, or to place a child that hath been lost so manyyears once more in the arms of its parents?"

"It is.--Nay, open not thine eyes, as if light were first breaking intothe darkness of a clouded brain! I repeat, it is!"

"I am glad that we have got to these open declarations, for too much of mylife hath been already wasted in unsettled gallanting, when sound wisdom,and the example of all around me, have shown that in order to become thefather of a family, and to be esteemed for a substantial settler, I shouldhave both cleared and wived some years ago. I wish to deal justly by all,and having given thee reason to think that the day might come when weshould live together, as is fitting to people of our condition, I felt ita duty to ask thee to share my chances; but now that thou dealest inimpossibilities, it is needful to seek elsewhere."

"This hath ever been thy way, when a good understanding hath beenestablished between us. Thy mind is ever getting into some discontent, andthen blame is heaped on one who rarely doth anything that should in reasonoffend thee. What madness maketh thee dream that I ask impossibilities?Surely, Dudley, thou canst not have noted the manner in which the natureof the Madam is giving way before the consuming heat of her grief; thoucanst not look into the sorrow of woman, or thou wouldst have listenedwith more kindness to a plan of travelling the woods for a short season,in order that it might be known whether she of whom the trader spoke isthe lost one of our family, or the child of some stranger!"

Though Faith spoke with vexation, she also spoke with feeling. Her darkeye swam in tears, and the color of her brown cheek deepened, until hercompanion saw new reasons to forget his discontent in sympathies, which,however obtuse they might be, were never entirely dormant.

"If a journey of a few hundred miles be all thou askest, girl, why speakin parables?" he good-naturedly replied. "The kind word was not wanting toput me on such a trial. We will be married on the Sabbath, and, pleaseHeaven, the Wednesday, or the Saturday at most, shall see me on the pathof the western trader."

"No delay. Thou must depart with the sun. The more active thou provest onthe journey the sooner wilt thou have the power to make me repent afoolish deed."

But Faith had been persuaded to relax a little from this severity. Theywere married on the Sabbath, and the following day Content and Dudley leftthe valley, in quest of the distant tribe on which the scion of anotherstock was said to have been so violently engrafted.

It is needless to dwell on the dangers and privations of such anexpedition. The Hudson, the Delaware, and the Susquehannah, rivers thatwere then better known in tales than to the inhabitants of New-England,were all crossed; and after a painful and hazardous journey, theadventurers reached the first of that collection of small interior lakes,whose banks are now so beautifully decorated with villages and farms.Here, in the bosom of savage tribes, and exposed to every danger of fieldand flood, supported only by his hopes, and by the presence of a stoutcompanion that hardships or danger could not easily subdue, the fatherdiligently sought his child.

At length a people were found, who held a captive that answered thedescription of the trader. We shall not dwell on the feelings with whichContent approached the village that contained this little descendant of awhite race. He had not concealed his errand; and the sacred character, inwhich he came, found pity and respect even among those barbarous tenantsof the wilderness. A deputation of the chiefs received him in the skirtsof their clearing. He was conducted to a wigwam, where a council-fire waslighted, and an interpreter opened the subject, by placing the amount ofthe ransom offered, and the professions of peace with which the strangerscame, in the fairest light before his auditors. It is not usual for theAmerican savage to loosen his hold easily, on one naturalized in histribe. But the meek air and noble confidence of Content touched thelatent qualities of those generous though fierce children of the woods.The girl was sent for, that she might stand in the presence of the eldersof the nation.

No language can paint the sensation with which Content first looked uponthis adopted daughter of the savages. The years and sex were in accordancewith his wishes; but, in place of the golden hair and azure eyes of thecherub he had lost, there appeared a girl in whose jet-black tresses andequally dark organs of sight, he might better trace a descendant of theFrench of the Canadas, than one sprung from his own Saxon lineage. Thefather was not quick of mind in the ordinary occupations of life, butnature was now big within him. There needed no second glance, to say howcruelly his hopes had been deceived. A smothered groan struggled from hischest, and then his self-command returned with the imposing grandeur ofChristian resignation. He arose, and, thanking the chiefs for theirindulgence, he made no secret of the mistake by which he had been led sofar on a fruitless errand. While speaking, the signs and gestures ofDudley gave him reason to believe, that his companion had something ofimportance to communicate. In a private interview, the latter suggestedthe expediency of concealing the truth, and of rescuing the child they hadin fact discovered from the hands of her barbarous masters. It was now toolate to practise a deception that might have availed for this object, hadthe stern principles of Content permitted the artifice. But, transferringsame portion of the interest which he felt for the fortunes of his ownoffspring, to that of the unknown parent, who, like himself, most probablymourned the uncertain fate of the girl before him, he tendered the ransomintended for Ruth, in behalf of the captive. It was rejected. Disappointedin both their objects, the adventurers were obliged to quit the village,with weary feet and still heavier hearts.

If any who read these pages have ever felt the agony of suspense in amatter involving the best of human affections, they will know how toappreciate the sufferings of the mother, during the month that herhusband was absent on this holy errand. At times, hope brightened aroundher heart, until the glow of pleasure was again mantling on her cheek andplaying in her eye. The first week of the adventure was one almost ofhappiness. The hazards of the journey were nearly forgotten in itsanticipated results, and though occasional apprehensions quickened thepulses of one whose system answered so fearfully to the movements of thespirit, there was a predominance of hope in all her anticipations. Sheagain passed among her maidens with a mien in which joy was strugglingwith the meekness of subdued habits, and her smiles once more began tobeam with renovated happiness. To his dying day, old Mark Heathcote neverforgot the sudden sensation that was created by the soft laugh that onsome unexpected occasion came to his ear from the lips of his son's wife.Though years had elapsed between the moment when that unwonted sound washeard, and the time at which the action of the tale now stands, he hadnever heard it repeated. To heighten the feelings which were nowuppermost in the mind of Ruth, when within a day's march of the villageto which he was going, Content had found means to send the tidings of hisprospects of success. It was over all these renewed wishes thatdisappointment was to throw its chill, and it was affections thus rivetedthat were to be again blighted by the cruelest of all witheringinfluences,--that of hope defeated.

It was near the hour of the setting of the sun, when Content and Dudleyreached the deserted clearing on their return to the valley. Their pathled through this opening on the mountain-side, and there was one point,among the bushes, from which the buildings, that had already arisen fromthe ashes of the burning, might be distinctly seen. Until now, thehusband and father had believed himself equal to any effort that dutymight require, in the progress of this mournful service. But here hepaused, and communicated a wish to his companion that he would go aheadand break the nature of the deception that had led them so far on afruitless mission. Perhaps Content was himself ignorant of all he wished,or to what unskilful hands he had confided a commission of more thanordinary delicacy. He merely felt his own inability, and, with a weaknessthat may find some apology in his feelings, he saw his companion depart,without instructions or indeed without any other guide than Nature.

Though Faith had betrayed no marked uneasiness during the absence of thetravellers, her quick eye was the first to discover the form of herhusband, as he came with a tired step across the fields, in the directionof the dwellings. Long ere Dudley reached the house, every one of itsinmates had assembled in the piazza. This was no meeting of turbulentdelight, or of clamorous greetings. The adventurer drew near amid asilence so oppressive, that it utterly disconcerted a studied project, bywhich he had hoped to announce his tidings in a manner suited to theoccasion. His hand was on the gate of the little court, and still nonespoke; his foot was on the low step, and yet no voice bade him welcome.The looks of the little group were rather fixed on the features of Ruth,than on the person of him who approached. Her face was pallid as death,her eye contracted, but filled with the mental effort that sustained her;and her lip scarce trembled, as, in obedience to a feeling still strongerthan the one which had so long oppressed her, she exclaimed--

"Eben Dudley, where hast thou left my husband?"

"The young Captain was a-foot weary, and he tarried in the second growthof the hill; but so brave a walker cannot be far behind. We shall see himsoon, at the opening by the dead beech; and it is there that I recommendthe Madam--"

"It was thoughtful in Heathcote, and like his usual kindness, to devisethis well-meant caution!" said Ruth, across whose countenance a smile soradiant passed, that it imparted the expression which is believed tocharacterize the peculiar benignancy of angels. "Still it was unnecessary;for he should have known that we place our strength on the Rock of Ages.Tell me, in what manner hath my precious one borne the exceeding wearinessof thy tangled route?"

The wandering glance of the messenger had gone from face to face, until itbecame fastened on the countenance of his own wife, in a settled,unmeaning gaze.

"Nay, Faith hath demeaned well, both as my assistant and as thy partner,and thou mayest see that her comeliness is in no degree changed--And didthe babe falter in this weary passage, or did she retard thy movements byher fretfulness? But I know thy nature, man; she hath been borne over manylong miles of mountain-side and treacherous swamp, in thine own vigorousarms. Thou answerest not, Dudley!" exclaimed Ruth, taking the alarm, andlaying a hand firmly on the shoulder of him she questioned, as, forcinghis half-averted face to meet her eye, she seemed to read his soul.

The muscles of the sun-burnt and strong features of the borderer workedinvoluntarily, his broad chest swelled to its utmost expansion, bigburning drops rolled out upon his brown cheeks, and then, taking the armof Ruth in one of his own powerful hands, he compelled her to release herhold, with a firm but respectful exercise of his strength; and, thrustingthe form of his own wife, without ceremony, aside, he passed through thecircle, and entered the dwelling, with the tread of a giant.

The head of Ruth dropped upon her bosom, the paleness again came overher cheeks, and it was then that the inward look of the eye might firstbe seen, which afterwards became so constant and so painful anexpression in her countenance. From that hour, to the time in which thefamily of the Wish-Ton-Wish is again brought immediately before thereader, no further rumors were ever heard, to lessen or increase thewasting regrets of her bosom.

"Sir, he hath never fed of the dainties that are bred in a book, he hath not eaten paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink: his intellect is not replenished; he is only an animal--only sensible in the duller parts."

Love's Labor Lost.

"Here cometh Faith, to bring us tidings of the hamlet," said the husbandof the woman whose character we have so feebly sketched, as he took hisseat in the piazza, at the early hour and in the group already mentioned."The Ensign hath been abroad in the hills, throughout the night, with achosen party of our people; and perchance she hath been sent with thesubstance that they have gathered, concerning the unknown trail."

"The heavy-footed Dudley hath scarce mounted to the dividing ridge, wherereport goeth the prints of moccasons were seen," observed a young man, whoin his person bore all the evidences of an active and healthful manhood."Of what service is the scouting that faileth of the necessary distanceby the weariness of its leader?"

"If thou believest, boy, that thy young foot is equal to contend with thesinews of Eben Dudley, there may be occasion to show the magnitude of thyerror, ere the danger of this Indian out-breaking shall pass away. Thouart too stubborn of will, Mark, to be yet trusted with the leading ofparties that may hold the safety of all who dwell in the Wish-Ton-Wishwithin their keeping."

The young man looked displeased; but, fearful that his father mightobserve and misinterpret his humor into a personal disrespect, he turnedaway, permitting his frowning eye to rest, for an instant, on the timidand stolen glance of a maiden, whose cheek was glowing like the easternsky, as she busied herself with the preparations of the table.

"What welcome news dost bring from the sign of the Whip-poor-Will?"Content asked of the woman, who had now come within the little gate of hiscourt. "Hast seen the Ensign, since the party took the hill-paths; or isit some traveller who hath charged thee with matter for our ears?"

"Eye of man hath not seen the man since he girded himself with the swordof office," returned Faith, entering the piazza and nodding salutation tothose around her; "and as for strangers, when the clock shall strike noon,it will be one month to the day that the last of them was housed within mydoors. But I complain not of the want of custom, as the Ensign would neverquit the bar and his gossip, to go into the mountain-lots, so long asthere was one to fill his ears with the marvels of the old countries, oreven to discourse of the home-stirrings of the colonies themselves."

"Thou speakest lightly, Faith, of one who merits thy respect andthy duty."

The eye of the former studied the meek countenance of her from whom thisreproof came, with an intenseness and a melancholy that showed herthoughts were on other matters, and then, as it suddenly recalled to whathad passed, she resumed--

"Truly, what with duty to the man as a husband, and respect to him as anofficer of the colony Madam Heathcote, the task is not one of easybearing. If the King's representative had given the colors to my brotherReuben, and left the Dudley with the halberd in his hand, the prefermentwould have been ample for one of his qualities, and all the better for thecredit of the settlement."

"The Governor distributed his favor according to the advice of mencompetent to distinguish merit," said Content. "Eben was foremost in thebloody affair among the people of the Plantations, where his manhood wasof good example to all in company. Should he continue as faithful and asvaliant, thou mayest yet live to see thyself the consort of a Captain!"

"Not for glory gained in this night's marching, for yonder cometh the manwith a sound body, and seemingly with the stomach of a Cæsar--ay, andI'll answer for it, of a regiment too! It is no trifle that will satisfyhis appetite, after one of these--ha! pray Heaven the fellow be notharmed--truly, he hath our neighbor Ergot in attendance."

"There is other than he too, for one cometh in the rear whose gait and airare unknown to me--the trail hath been struck, and Dudley leadeth acaptive! A savage, in his paint and cloak of skin, is taken."

This assertion caused all to rise, for the excitement of an apprehendedinroad was still strong in the minds of those secluded people. Not asyllable more was uttered, until the scout and his companion werebefore them.

The quick glance of Faith had scanned the person of her husband, and,resuming her spirits with the certainty that he was unharmed, she was thefirst to greet him with words:

"How now, Ensign Dudley," said the woman, quite possibly vexed that shehad unguardedly betrayed a greater interest in his welfare than she mightalways deem prudent. "How now, Ensign, hath the campaign ended with nobetter trophy than this?"

"The fellow is not a chief, nor, by his step and dull look, even awarrior; but he was, nevertheless, a lurker nigh the settlements, and itwas thought prudent to bring him in;" returned the husband, addressinghimself to Content, while he answered the salutation of his wife with asufficiently brief nod. "My own scouting hath brought nothing to light,but my brother Ring hath fallen on the trail of him that is here present,and it is not a little that we are puzzled in probing, as the good DoctorErgot calleth it, into the meaning of his errand."

"Of what tribe may the savage be?"

"There hath been discussion among us, on that matter," returned Dudley,with an oblique glance of the eye towards the physician. "Some have saidhe is a Narragansett, while others think he cometh of a stock stillfurther east."

"In giving that opinion, I spoke merely of his secondary or acquiredhabits," interrupted Ergot; "for, having reference to his original, theman is assuredly a White."

"A White!" repeated all around him.

"Beyond a cavil; as may be seen by divers particulars in his outwardconformation, viz: in the shape of the head, the muscles of the arms andof the legs, the air and gait, besides sundry other signs, that arefamiliar to men who have made the physical peculiarities of the two racestheir study."

"One of which is this!" continued Dudley, throwing up the robe of thecaptive, and giving his companions the ocular evidence which had sosatisfactorily removed all his own doubts. "Though the color of the skinmay not be proof positive, like that named by our neighbor Ergot, it isstill something, in helping a man of little learning to make up an opinionin such a matter."

"Madam!" exclaimed Faith so suddenly as to cause her she addressed tostart--"for the sake of Heaven's mercy! let thy maidens bring soap andwater, that the face of this man may be cleansed of its paint."

"What foolishness is thy brain set upon?" rejoined the Ensign, who hadlatterly affected some of that superior gravity which might be supposed tobelong to his official station. "We are not now under the roof of theWhip-Poor-Will, wife of mine, but in the presence of those who need noneof thy suggestions to give proper forms to an examination of office."

Faith heeded no reproof. Instead of waiting for others to perform thatwhich she had desired, she applied herself to the task, with a dexteritythat had been acquired by long practice, and a zeal that seemed awakenedby some extraordinary emotion. In a minute, the colors had disappearedfrom the features of the captive, and, though deeply tanned by exposure toan American sun and to sultry winds, his face was unequivocally that ofone who owed his origin to an European ancestry. The movements of theeager woman were watched with curious interest by all present; and whenthe short task was ended, a murmur of surprise broke simultaneously fromevery lip.

"There is meaning in this masquerade," observed Content, who had long andintently studied the dull and ungainly countenance that was exposed to hisscrutiny by the operation. "I have heard of Christian men who have soldthemselves to gain, and who, forgetting religion and the love of theirrace--have been known to league with the savage in order to pursue rapinein the settlements. This wretch hath the subtlety of one of the French ofthe Canadas in his eye."

"Away! away!" cried Faith, forcing herself in front of the speaker, and,by placing her two hands on the shaven crown of the prisoner, forming asort of shade to his features. "Away with all folly, about the Frenchersand wicked leagues! This is no plotting miscreant, but a strickeninnocent! Whittal--my brother Whittal, dost know me?"

The tears rolled down the cheeks of the wayward woman, as she gazed intothe face of her witless relative, whose eye lighted with one of itsoccasional gleamings of intelligence, and who indulged in a low, vacantlaugh, ere he answered her earnest interrogatory.

"Some speak like men from over sea," he said, "and some speak like men ofthe woods. Is there such a thing as bear's meat, or a mouthful of hommony,in the wigwam?"

Had the voice of one, long known to be in the grave, broken on the earsof the family, it would scarcely have produced a deeper sensation, orhave quickened the blood more violently about their hearts, than thissudden and utterly unexpected discovery of the character of theircaptive. Wonder and awe held them mute for a time, and then Ruth was seenstanding before the restored wanderer her hands clasped in the attitudeof petition, her eye contracted and imploring, and her whole personexpressive of the suspense and excitement which had roused herlong-latent emotions to agony.

"Tell me," said a thrilling voice, that might have quickened the intellectof one even duller than the man addressed, "as thou hast pity in thyheart, tell me, if my babe yet live?"

"'Tis a good babe," returned the other; and then laughing again, in hisown vacant and unmeaning manner, he bent his eyes with a species ofstupid wonder on Faith, in whose appearance there was far less change,than in the speaking but wasted countenance of her who stood immediatelybefore him.

"Give leave, dearest Madam," interposed the sister: "I know the nature ofthe boy, and could ever do more with him than any other."

But this request was useless. The system of the mother, in its presentstate of excitement, was unequal to further effort. Sinking into thewatchful arms of Content, she was borne away, and, for a minute, theanxious interest of the handmaidens left none but the men on the piazza.

"Whittal--my old playfellow, Whittal Ring;" said the son of Content,advancing with a humid eye to take the hand of the prisoner. "Hastforgotten, man, the companion of thy early days? It is young MarkHeathcote that speaks."

The other looked up into his countenance, for a moment, with a revivingrecollection; but shaking his head, he drew back in marked displeasure,muttering loud enough to be heard--

"What a false liar is a Pale-face! Here is one of the tall rogues, wishingto pass for a loping boy!"

What more he uttered his auditors never knew, for he instantly changed hislanguage to some dialect of an Indian tribe.

"The mind of the unhappy youth hath even been more blunted, by exposureand the usages of a savage life, than by Nature," said Content, who withmost of the others had been recalled, by his interest in the examination,to the scene they had momentarily quitted. "Let the sister deal tenderlywith the lad, and, in Heaven's time, shall we learn the truth."

The deep feeling of the father clothed his words with authority. Theeager group gave place, and something like the solemnity of an officialexamination succeeded to the irregular and hurried interrogatories, whichhad first broken on the dull intellect of the recovered wanderer.

The dependants took their stations, in a circle around the chair of thePuritan, by whose side was placed Content, while Faith induced her brotherto be seated on the step of the piazza, in a manner that all might hear.The attention of the brother, himself, was drawn from the formality of thearrangement, by placing food in his hands.

"And now, Whittal, I would know," commenced the ready woman, when adeep silence denoted the attention of the auditors, "I would know, ifthou rememberest the day I clad thee in garments of boughten cloth,from over sea; and how fond thou wast of being seen among the kine incolors so gay?"

The young man looked up in her face, as if the tones of her voice gave himpleasure; but, instead of making any reply, he preferred to munch thebread with which she had endeavored to lure him back to their ancientconfidence.

"Surely, boy, thou canst not so soon have forgotten the gift I bought,with the hard earnings of a wheel that turned at night. The tail ofyon peacock is not finer than thou then wast--But I will make theesuch another garment, that thou mayst go with the trainers to theirweekly muster."

The youth dropped the robe of skin that covered the upper part of hisbody, and making a forward gesture, with the gravity of an Indian, heanswered--"Whittal is a warrior on his path; he has no time for the talk ofthe women!"

"Now, brother, thou forgettest the manner in which I was wont to feed thyhunger, as the frost pinched thee, in the cold mornings, and at the hourwhen the kine needed thy care; else thou wouldst not call me woman."

"Hast ever been on the trail of a Pequot? Know'st how to whoopamong the men?"

"What is an Indian whoop, to the bleating of thy flocks, or the bellowingof cattle in the bushes? Thou rememberest the sound of the bells, as theytinkled among the second growth of an evening?"

The ancient herdsman turned his head, and seemed to lend his attention, asa dog listens to an approaching footstep. But the gleam of recollectionwas quickly lost. In the next moment, he yielded to the more positive, andpossibly more urgent, demands of his appetite.

"Then hast thou lost the use of ears; else thou wouldst not say that thouforgettest the sound of the bells."

"Didst ever hear a wolf howl?" exclaimed the other. "That's a sound for ahunter! I saw the Great Chief strike the striped panther, when the boldestwarrior of the tribe grew white as a craven Pale-face at his leaps!"

"Talk not to me of your ravenous beasts and Great Chiefs, but ratherlet us think of the days when we were young, and when thou hadstdelight in the sports of a Christian childhood. Hast forgotten,Whittal, how our mother used to give us leave to pass the idle time ingames among the snow?"

"Nipset hath a mother in her wigwam, but he asketh no leave to go on thehunt. He is a man the next snow, he will be a warrior."

"Silly boy! This is some treachery of the savage by which he has bound thyweakness with the fetters of his craftiness. Thy mother, Whittal, was awoman of Christian belief, and one of a white race, and a kind andmourning mother was she over thy feeble-mindedness! Dost not remember,unthankful of heart! how she nursed thy sickly hours in boyhood, and howshe administered to all thy bodily wants? Who was it that fed thee whena-hungered or who had compassion on thy waywardness, when others tired ofthy idle deeds, or grew impatient of thy weakness?"

The brother looked, for an instant, at the flushed features of thespeaker, as if glimmerings of some faintly distinguished scenes crossedthe visions of his mind; but the animal still predominated, and hecontinued to feed his hunger.

"This exceedeth human endurance!" exclaimed the excited Faith. "Look intothis eye, weak one, and say if thou knowest her who supplied the place ofthat mother whom thou refusest to remember--she who hath toiled for thycomfort, and who hath never refused to listen to all thy plaints, and tosoften all thy sufferings. Look at this eye, and speak--dost know me?"

"Certain!" returned the other, laughing with a half-intelligent expressionof recognition; "'tis a woman of the Pale-faces, and I warrant me, onethat will never be satisfied till she hath all the furs of the Americas onher back, and all the venison of the woods in her kitchen. Didst ever hearthe tradition, how that wicked race got into the hunting-grounds, androbbed the warriors of the country?"

The disappointment of Faith had made her too impatient to lend a pleasedattention to this tale; but, at that moment, a form appeared at her side,and by a quiet and commanding gesture directed her to humor the temper ofthe wanderer.

It was Ruth, in whose pale cheek and anxious eye, all the intenseness of amother's longings might be traced, in its most touching aspect. Though solately helpless and sinking beneath her emotions, the sacred feelingswhich now sustained her seemed to supply the place of all other aid; andas she glided past the listening circle, even Content himself had notbelieved it necessary to offer succor, or to interpose with remonstrance.Her quiet, meaning gesture seemed to say, 'proceed, and show allindulgence to the weakness of the young man.' The rising discontent ofFaith, was checked by habitual reverence, and she prepared to obey.

"And what say the silly traditions of which you speak?" she added, ere thecurrent of his dull ideas had time to change its direction.

"'Tis spoken by the old men in the villages, and what is there said isgospel-true. You see all around you, land that is covered with hill andvalley, and which once bore wood, without the fear of the axe, and overwhich game was spread with a bountiful hand. There are runners and huntersin our tribe who have been on a straight path towards the setting sun,until their legs were weary and their eyes could not see the clouds thathang over the salt lake, and yet they say, 'tis everywhere beautiful asyonder green mountain. Tall trees and shady woods rivers and lakes filledwith fish, and deer and beaver plentiful as the sands on the sea-shore.All this land and water the Great Spirit gave to men of red skins; forthem he loved, since they spoke truth in their tribes, were true to theirfriends, hated their enemies, and knew how to take scalps. Now, a thousandsnows had come and melted, since this gift was made," continued Whittal,who spoke with the air of one charged with the narration of a gravetradition, though he probably did no more than relate what manyrepetitions had rendered familiar to his inactive mind, "and yet none butred-skins were seen to hunt the moose, or to go on the war-path. Then theGreat Spirit grew angry; he hid his face from his children, because theyquarrelled among themselves. Big canoes came out of the rising sun, andbrought a hungry and wicked people into the land. At first, the strangersspoke soft and complaining like women. They begged room for a few wigwams,and said if the warriors would give them ground to plant, they would asktheir God to look upon the red-men. But when they grew strong, they forgottheir words and made liars of themselves. Oh, they are wicked knaves! APale-face is a panther. When a-hungered, you can hear him whining in thebushes like a strayed infant; but when you come within his leap, beware oftooth and claw!"

"This evil-minded race, then, robbed the red warriors of their land?"

"Certain! They spoke like sick women, till they grew strong, and then theyout-devilled the Pequots themselves in wickedness; feeding the warriorswith their burning milk, and slaying with blazing inventions, that theymade out of the yellow meal."

"And the Pequods! was their great warrior dead, before the coming of themen from over sea?"

"You are a woman that has never heard a tradition, or you would knowbetter! A Pequot is a weak and crawling cub."

"And thou--thou art then a Narragansett?"

"Don't I look like a man?"

"I had mistaken thee for one of our nearer neighbors, the MoheganPequods."

"The Mohicans are basket-makers for the Yengeese; but the Narragansettgoes leaping through the woods, like a wolf on the trail of the deer!"

"All this is quite in reason, and now thou pointest to its justice, Icannot fail but see it. But we have curiosity to know more of the greattribe. Hast ever heard of one of thy people, Whittal, known asMiantonimoh--'tis a chief of some renown."

The witless youth had continued to eat, at intervals; but, on hearing thisquestion, he seemed suddenly to forget his appetite. For a moment helooked down, and then he answered slowly and not without solemnity--

"A man cannot live for ever."

"What!" said Faith, motioning to her deeply-interested auditors torestrain their impatience--"has he quitted his people? And thou livedwith him, Whittal, ere he came to his end?"

"He never looked on Nipset, nor Nipset on him."

"I know nought of this Nipset; tell me of the great Miantonimoh."

"Dost need to hear twice? The Sachem is gone to the far land, and Nipsetwill be a warrior when the next snow comes!"

Disappointment threw a cloud on every countenance, and the beam of hope,which had been kindling in the eye of Ruth, changed to the former painfulexpression of deep inward suffering. But Faith still managed to repressall speech among those who listened, continuing the examination, after ashort delay that her vexation rendered unavoidable.

"I had thought that Miantonimoh was still a warrior in his tribe," shesaid. "In what battle did he fall?"

"Mohican Uncas did that wicked deed. The Pale-men gave him great riches tomurder the Sachem."

"Thou speakest of the father; but there was another Miantonimoh; he who inboyhood dwelt among the people of white blood."

Whittal listened attentively; and after seeming to rally his thoughts, heshook his head, saying before he again began to eat--

"There never was but one of the name, and there never will be another. Twoeagles do not build their nests in the same tree."

"Thou sayest truly," continued Faith; well knowing that to dispute theinformation of her brother, was in effect to close his mouth. "Now tellme of Conanchet, the present Narragansett Sachem--he who hath leagued withMetacom, and hath of late been driven from his fastness near the sea--dothhe yet live?"

The expression of the brother's countenance underwent another change. Inplace of the childish importance with which he had hitherto replied to thequestions of his sister, a look of overreaching cunning gathered about hisdull eye. The organ glanced slowly and cautiously around him, as if itsowner expected to detect some visible sign of those covert intentions heso evidently distrusted. Instead of answering, the wanderer continued hismeal, though less like one who had need of sustenance, than one resolvedto make no communications which might prove dangerous. This change was notunobserved by Faith, or by any of those who so intently watched the meansby which she had been endeavoring to thread the confused ideas of one sodull, and yet who at need seemed so practised in savage artifice. Sheprudently altered her manner of interrogating, by endeavoring to lead histhoughts to other matters.

"I warrant me," continued the sister, "that thou now beginnest to call tomind the times when thou led'st the cattle among the bushes, and how thouwert wont to call on Faith to give thee food, when a-weary with threadingthe woods in quest of the kine. Hast ever been assailed by theNarragansetts thyself, Whittal, when dwelling in the house of aPale-face?"

The brother ceased eating. Again he appeared to muse as intently as waspossible, for one of his circumscribed intellects. But shaking his head inthe negative, he silently resumed the grateful office of mastication.

"What! hast come to be a warrior, and never known a scalp taken, or seena fire lighted in the roof of a wigwam?"

Whittal laid down the food, and turned to his sister. His face wasteeming with a wild and fierce meaning, and he indulged in a low buttriumphant laugh. When this exhibition of satisfaction was over, heconsented to reply.

"Certain," he said. "We went on a path, in the night, against the lyingYengeese, and no burning of the woods ever scorched the 'arth as weblackened their fields! All their proud housen were turned into pilesof coals."

"And where and when did you this act of brave vengeance?"

"They called the place after the bird of night as if an Indian name couldsave them from an Indian massacre!"

"Ha! 'Tis of the Wish-Ton-Wish thou speakest But thou wast a sufferer, andnot an actor, brother in that heartless burning."

"Thou liest like a wicked woman of the Pale faces, as thou art! Nipset wasonly a boy on that path, but he went with his people. I tell thee, wesinged the very 'arth with our brands, and not a head of them all everrose again from the ashes."

Notwithstanding her great self-command, and the object that was constantlybefore the mind of Faith, she shuddered at the fierce pleasure with whichher brother pronounced the extent of the vengeance, that, in his imaginarycharacter, he believed he had taken on his enemies. Still cautious not todestroy an illusion which might aid her, in the so-long-defeated andso-anxiously-desired discovery, the woman repressed her horror, andcontinued--

"True--yet some were spared--surely the warriors carried prisoners back totheir village. Thou didst not slay all?"

"All."

"Nay--thou speakest now of the miserables who were wrapt in theblazing block; but--but some, without, might have fallen into thyhands, ere the assailed sought shelter in the tower. Surely--surelythou didst not kill all?"

The hard breathing of Ruth caught the ear of Whittal, and for a moment heturned to regard her countenance in dull wonder. But again shaking hishead, he answered in a low, positive tone--"All;--ay, to the screechingwomen and crying babes!"

"Surely there is a child--I would say there is a woman, in thy tribe, offairer skin and of form different from most of thy people. Was not such anone led a captive from the burning of the Wish-Ton-Wish?"

"Dost think the deer will live with the wolf, or hast ever found thecowardly pigeon in the nest of the hawk?"

"Nay, thou art of different color thyself, Whittal, and it well may be,thou art not alone."

The youth regarded his sister a moment with marked displeasure, and then,on turning to eat, he muttered--"There is as much fire in snow, as truthin a lying Yengeese?"

"This examination must close," said Content, with a heavy sigh; "atanother hour, we may hope to push the matter to some more fortunateresult; but, yonder cometh one charged with especial service from thetowns below, as would seem by the fact that he disregardeth the holinessof the day no less than by the earnest manner in which he is journeying."

As the individual named was visible to all who chose to look in thedirection of the hamlet, his sudden appearance caused a generalinterruption to the interest which had been so strongly awakened on asubject that was familiar to every resident in the valley.

The early hour, the gait at which the stranger urged his horse, the mannerin which he passed the open and inviting door of the Whip-Poor-Will,proclaimed him a messenger, who probably bore some communication ofimportance from the Government of the Colony to the younger Heathcote, whofilled the highest station of official authority in that distantsettlement. Observations to this purport had passed from mouth to mouth,and curiosity was actively alive, by the time the horseman rode into thecourt. There he dismounted, and, covered with the dust of the road, hepresented himself, with the air of one who had passed the night in thesaddle, before the man he sought.

"I have orders for Captain Content Heathcote," said the messenger,saluting all around him with the usual grave but studied courtesy of thepeople to whom he belonged.

"He is here to receive and to obey," was the answer.

The traveller wore a little of that mysteriousness that is so grateful tocertain minds, which, from inability to command respect in any othermanner, are fond of making secrets of matters that might as well berevealed. In obedience to this feeling, he expressed a desire that hiscommunications might be made apart. Content quietly motioned for him tofollow, leading the way into an inner apartment of the house. As a newdirection was given by this interruption, to the thoughts of thespectators of the foregoing scene, we shall also take the opportunity todigress, in order to lay before the reader some general facts that may benecessary to the connexion of the subsequent parts of the legend.

"Be certain what you do, sir; lest your justice
Prove violence."

Winter's Tale.

The designs of the celebrated Metacom had been betrayed to the Colonists,by the treachery of a subordinate warrior, named Sausaman. The punishmentof this treason led to inquiries, which terminated in accusations againstthe great Sachem of the Wampanoags. Scorning to vindicate himself beforeenemies that he hated, and perhaps distrusting their clemency, Metacom nolonger endeavored to cloak his proceedings; but, throwing aside theemblems of peace he openly appeared with an armed hand.

The tragedy had commenced about a year before the period at which the talehas now arrived. A scene, not unlike that detailed in the foregoing pages,took place; the brand, the knife, and the tomahawk, doing their work ofdestruction, without pity and without remorse. But, unlike the inroad ofthe Wish-Ton-Wish, this expedition was immediately followed by others,until the whole of New-England was engaged in the celebrated war, to whichwe have before referred.

The entire white population of the Colonies of New-England had shortlybefore been estimated at one hundred and twenty thousand souls. Of thisnumber, it was thought that sixteen thousand men were capable of bearingarms. Had time been given for the maturity of the plans of Metacom, hemight have readily assembled bands of warriors who, aided by theirfamiliarity with the woods, and accustomed to the privations of such awarfare, would have threatened serious danger to the growing strength ofthe whites. But the ordinary and selfish feelings of man were as active,among these wild tribes, as they are known to be in more artificialcommunities. The indefatigable Metacom, like that Indian hero of our owntimes, Tecumthà, had passed years in endeavoring to appease ancientenmities and to lull jealousies, in order that all of red blood mightunite in crushing a foe that promised, should he be longer undisturbed inhis march to power, soon to be too formidable for their united efforts tosubdue. The premature explosion in some measure averted the danger. Itgave the English time to strike several severe blows against the tribe oftheir great enemy, before his allies had determined to make common causein his design. The summer and autumn of 1675 had been passed in activehostilities between the English and Wampanoags, without openly drawing anyother nation into the contest. Some of the Pequots, with their dependenttribes, even took sides with the whites: and we read of the Mohegans beingactively employed in harassing the Sachem, on his well-known retreat fromthat neck of land, where he had been hemmed in by the English, with theexpectation that he might be starved into submission.

The warfare of the first summer was, as might be expected, attended byvarious degrees of success, fortune quite as often favoring the red-men,in their desultory attempts at annoyance, as their more disciplinedenemies. Instead of confining his operations to his own circumscribed andeasily environed districts, Metacom had led his warriors to the distantsettlements on the Connecticut; and it was during the operations of thisseason, that several of the towns on that river were first assailed andlaid in ashes. Active hostilities had in some measure ceased, between theWampanoags and the English, with the cold weather, most of the troopsretiring to their homes, while the Indians apparently paused to takebreath for their final effort.

It was, however, previously to this cessation of activity, that theCommissioners of the United Colonies, as they were called, met to devisethe means of a concerted resistance. Unlike their former dangers from thesame quarter, it was manifest, by the manner in which a hostile feelingwas spreading around their whole frontier, that a leading spirit had givenas much of unity and design to the movements of the foe, as could probablyever be created among a people so separated by distance and so divided incommunities. Right or wrong, the Colonists gravely decided that the war ontheir part was just. Great preparations were therefore made to carry iton, the ensuing summer, in a manner more suited to their means, and to theabsolute necessities of their situation. It was in consequence of thearrangements made for bringing a portion of the inhabitants of the Colonyof Connecticut into the field, that we find the principal characters ofour legend in the warlike guise in which they have just been re-introducedto the reader.

Although the Narragansetts had not at first been openly implicated in theattacks on the Colonists, facts soon came to the knowledge of the latter,which left no doubt of the state of feeling in that nation. Many of theiryoung men were discovered among the followers of Metacom, and arms takenfrom whites, who had been slain in the different encounters, were alsoseen in their villages. One of the first measures of the Commissioners,therefore, was to anticipate more serious opposition, by directing anoverwhelming force against this people. The party collected on thatoccasion was probably the largest military body which the English, atthat early day, had ever assembled in their Colonies. It consisted of athousand men, of whom no inconsiderable number was cavalry--a species oftroops that, as all subsequent experience has shown, is admirably adaptedto operations against so active and so subtle a foe.

The attack was made in the depth of winter, and it proved fearfullydestructive to the assailed. The defence of Conanchet, the young Sachem ofthe Narragansetts, was every way worthy of his high character for courageand mental resources, nor was the victory gained without serious loss tothe Colonists. The native chief had collected his warriors, and taken poston a small area of firm land, that was situated in the centre of a denselywooded swamp; and the preparations for resistance betrayed a singularfamiliarity with the military expedients of a white man. There had been apalisadoed breast-work, a species of redoubt, and a regular block-house,to overcome, ere the Colonists could penetrate into the fortified villageitself. The first attempts were unsuccessful, the Indians having repulsedtheir enemies with loss. But better arms and greater concert finallyprevailed, though not without a struggle that lasted for many hours, andnot until the defendants were, in truth, nearly surrounded.

The events of that memorable day made a deep impression on the minds ofmen who were rarely excited by any incidents of a great and movingcharacter. It was still the subject of earnest and not unfrequently ofmelancholy discourse, around the fire-sides of the Colonists; nor was thevictory achieved without accompaniments which, however unavoidable theymight have been, had a tendency to raise doubts in the minds ofconscientious religionists concerning the lawfulness of their cause. It issaid that a village of six hundred cabins was burnt and that hundreds ofdead and wounded were consumed in the conflagration. A thousand warriorswere thought to have lost their lives in this affair, and it was believedthat the power of the nation was broken for ever. The sufferers among theColonists themselves were numerous, and mourning came into a vast manyfamilies, with the tidings of victory.

In this expedition most of the men of the Wish-Ton-Wish had beenconspicuous actors, under the orders of Content. They had not escaped withimpunity; but it was confidently hoped that their courage was to meet itsreward in a long continuance of peace, which was the more desirable onaccount of their remote and exposed situation.

In the mean time, the Narragansetts were far from being subdued.Throughout the whole continuance of the inclement season, they had causedalarms on the frontiers; and, in one or two instances their renownedSachem had taken signal vengeance for the dire affair in which his peoplehad so heavily suffered. As the spring advanced, the inroads became stillmore frequent, and the appearances of danger so far increased as torequire a new call on the Colonists to arm. The messenger, introduced inthe last chapter, was charged with matter that had a reference to theevents of this war; and it was with an especial communication of greaturgency that he had now demanded his secret audience with the leader ofthe military force of the valley.

"Thou hast affairs of moment to deal with, Captain Heathcote," said thehard-riding traveller, when he found himself alone with Content. "Theorders of his Honor are to spare neither whip nor spur until the chief menof the borders shall be warned of the actual situation of the Colony."

"Hath aught of moving interest occurred, that his Honor deemeth there isnecessity for unusual watchfulness. We had hoped that the prayers of thepious were not in vain; and that a time of quiet was about to succeed tothat violence, of which, bounden by our social covenants, we haveunhappily been unwilling spectators. The bloody assault of Pettyquamscotthath exercised our minds severely--nay, it hath even raised doubts of thelawfulness of some of our deeds."

"Thou hast a commendable spirit of forgiveness Captain Heathcote, or thymemory would extend to other scenes than those which bear relation to thepunishment of an enemy so remorseless. It is said on the river, that thevalley of Wish-Ton-Wish hath been visited by the savage in its day, andmen speak freely of the wrongs suffered by its owners on that pitilessoccasion."

"The truth may not be denied, even that good should come thereof. It iscertain that much suffering was inflicted on me and on mine, by theinroad of which you speak: nevertheless we have ever striven to considerit as a merciful chastisement inflicted for manifold sins, rather than asa subject that might be remembered, in order to stimulate passions that,in all reason as in all charity, should slumber as much as a weak naturewill allow."

"This is well, Captain Heathcote, and in exceeding conformity with themost received doctrines," returned the stranger, slightly gaping, eitherfrom want of rest the previous night, or from disinclination to so grave asubject; "but it hath little connexion with present duties. My chargebeareth especial concern with the further destruction of the Indians,rather than to any inward searchings into the condition of our own mentalmisgivings, concerning any right it may be thought proper to question,that hath a reference to the duty of self-protection. There is no unworthydweller in the Connecticut Colony, sir, that hath endeavored more tocultivate a tender conscience, than the wretched sinner who standethbefore you; for I have the exceeding happiness to sit under theoutpourings of a spirit that hath few mortal superiors in the matter ofprecious gifts. I now speak of Dr. Calvin Pope; a most worthy andsoul-quieting divine; one who spareth not the goad when the conscienceneedeth pricking, nor hesitateth to dispense consolation to him who seethhis fallen estate; and one that never faileth to deal with charity, andhumbleness of spirit, and forbearance with the failings of friends, andforgiveness of enemies, as the chiefest signs of a renovated moralexistence; and, therefore, there can be but little reason to distrust thespiritual rightfulness of all that listen to the riches of his discourse.But when it cometh to be question of life or death, a matter of dominionand possession of these fair lands, that the Lord hath given--why, sir,then I say that, like the Israelites dealing with the sinful occupants ofCanaan, it behoveth us to be true to each other, and to look upon theheathen with a distrustful eye."

"There may be reason in that thou utterest," observed Content,sorrowfully. "Still it is lawful to mourn even the necessity whichconduceth to all this strife. I had hoped that they who direct theCouncils of the Colony might have resorted to less violent means ofpersuasion, to lead the savage back to reason, than that which cometh fromthe armed hand. Of what nature is thy especial errand?"

"Of deep urgency, sir, as will be seen in the narration," returned theother, dropping his voice like one habitually given to the dramatic partof diplomacy, however unskilful he might have been in its moreintellectual accomplishments. "Thou wast in the Pettyquamscott scourging,and need not be reminded of the manner in which the Lord dealt with ourenemies on that favor-dispensing day; but it may not be known to one soremote from the stirring and daily transactions of Christendom, in whatmanner the savage hath taken the chastisement. The restless and stillunconquered Conanchet hath deserted his towns and taken refuge in the openwoods; where it exceedeth the skill and usage of our civilized men of war,to discover, at all times the position and force of their enemies. Theconsequences may be easily conjectured. The savage hath broken in upon,and laid waste, in whole or in part, firstly--Lancaster, on the tenth,"counting on his fingers, "when many were led into captivity; secondly,Marlborough, on the twentieth; on the thirteenth, ultimo, Groton; Warwick,on the seventeenth; and Rehoboth, Chelmsford, Andover, Weymouth, anddivers other places, have been greatly sufferers, between the latterperiod and the day when I quitted the abode of his Honor. Pierce ofScituate, a stout warrior, and one practised in the wiles of this natureof warfare, hath been cut off with a whole company of followers; andWadsworth and Brockleband, men known and esteemed for courage and skill,have left their bones in the woods, sleeping in common among theirluckless followers."

"These are truly tidings to cause us to mourn over the abandoned conditionof our nature," said Content, in whose meek mind there was no affectationof regrets on such a subject. "It is not easy to see in what manner theevil may be arrested without again going forth to battle."

"Such is the opinion of his Honor, and of all who sit with him in Council;for we have sufficient knowledge of the proceedings of the enemy, to besure that the master-spirit of wickedness, in the person of him calledPhilip, is raging up and down the whole extent of the borders, awakeningthe tribes to what he calleth the necessity of resisting furtheraggression, and stirring up their vengeance, by divers subtle expedientsof malicious cunning."

"And what manner of proceeding hath been ordered, in so urgent a strait,by the wisdom of our rulers?"

"Firstly, there is a fast ordained, that we come to the duty as menpurified by mental struggle and deep self-examination; secondly, it isrecommended that the congregations deal with more than wonted severitywith all backsliders and evil-doers, in order that the towns may notfall under the divine displeasure, as happened to them that dwelt in thedevoted cities of Canaan; thirdly, it is determined to lend our feebleaid to the ordering of Providence, by calling forth the allotted numberof the trained bands; and, fourthly, it is contemplated to counteractthe seeds of vengeance, by setting a labor-earning price on the heads ofour enemies."

"I accord with the three first of these expedients, as the known andlawful resorts of Christian men," said Content. "But the latter seemeth ameasure that needeth to be entertained with great wariness of manner, andsome distrust of purpose."

"Fear not, since all suiting and economical discretion is active in theminds of our rulers, who have pondered sagaciously on so grave a policy.It is not intended to offer more than half the reward that is held forthby our more wealthy and elder sister of the Bay; and there is some acutequestion about the necessity of bidding at all for any of tender years.And now, Captain Heathcote, with the good leave of so respectable asubject, I will proceed to lay before you the details of the number andthe nature of the force that it is hoped you will lead in person in theensuing campaign."

As the result of that which followed will be seen in the course of thelegend, it is not necessary to accompany the Messenger any further in hiscommunication. We shall therefore leave him and Content busied with thematter of their conference, and proceed to give some account of the otherpersonages connected with our subject.

When interrupted, as already related, by the arrival of the stranger,Faith had endeavored, by a new expedient, to elicit some evidences of amore just remembrance from the dull mind of her brother. Accompanied bymost of the dependants of the family, she had led him to the summit ofthat hill which was now crowned with the foliage of a young and thriftyorchard, and, placing him at the foot of the ruin, she tried to excite atrain of recollections that should lead to deeper impressions, and,possibly, by their aid, to a discovery of the important circumstance thatall so much longed to have explained.

The experiment produced no happy result. The place, and indeed the wholevalley, had undergone so great a change, that one more liberally giftedmight have hesitated to believe them those that have been described inour earlier pages. This rapid alteration of objects, which elsewhere knowso little change in a long course of ages, is a fact familiar to all whoreside in the newer districts of the Union. It is caused by the rapidimprovements that are made in the first stages of a settlement. To fellthe forest alone, is to give an entirely new aspect to the view; and itis far from easy to see in a village and in cultivated fields, howeverrecent the existence of the one or imperfect the other, any traces of aspot that a short time before was known is the haunt of the wolf or therefuge of the deer.

The features, and more particularly the eye of his sister, had stirredlong-dormant recollections in the mind of Whittal Ring; and though theseglimpses of the past were detached and indistinct, they had sufficed toquicken that ancient confidence which was partially exhibited in theiropening conference. But it exceeded his feeble powers to recall objectsthat would appeal to no very lively sympathies, and which had themselvesundergone so material alterations. Still, the witless youth did not lookon the ruin entirely without some stirrings of his nature. Although thesward around its base was lively in the brightest verdure of earlysummer, and the delicious odor of the wild clover saluted his senses,still there was that in the blackened and ragged walls, the position ofthe tower, and the view of the surrounding hills, shorn as so much ofthem now were, that evidently spoke to his earliest impressions. Helooked at the spot, as a hound gazes at a master who has been so longlost as even to deaden his instinct; and at times, as his companionsendeavored to aid his faint images, it would seem as if memory werelikely to triumph, and all those deceptive opinions, which habit andIndian wiles had drawn over his dull mind, were about to vanish beforethe light of reality. But the allurements of a life in which there was somuch of the freedom of nature mingled with the fascinating pleasures ofthe chase and of the woods, were not to be dispossessed so readily. WhenFaith artfully led him back to those animal enjoyments of which he hadbeen so fond in boyhood, the fantasy of her brother seemed most to waver;but whenever it became apparent that the dignity of a warrior, and allthe more recent and far more alluring delights of his later life, were tobe abandoned ere his being could return into its former existence, hisdull faculties obstinately refused to lend themselves to a change that,in his case, would have been little short of that attributed to thetransmigration of souls.

After an hour of anxious, and frequently, on the part of Faith, of angryefforts to extract some evidences of his recollection of the condition oflife to which he had once belonged, the attempt for the moment wasabandoned. At times, it seemed as if the woman were about to prevail. Heoften called himself Whittal, but he continued to insist that he was alsoNipset, a man of the Narragansetts, who had a mother in his wigwam, andwho had reason to believe that he should be numbered among the warriors ofhis tribe, ere the fall of another snow.

In the mean time, a very different scene was passing at the place wherethe first examination had been held, and which had been immediatelydeserted by most of the spectators, on the sudden arrival of theMessenger. But a solitary individual was seated at the spacious board,which had been provided alike for those who owned and presided over theestate, and for their dependants to the very meanest. The individual whoremained had thrown himself into a seat, less with the air of him whoconsults the demands of appetite, than of one whose thoughts were soengrossing as to render him indifferent to the situation or employment ofhis more corporeal part. His head rested on his arms, the lattereffectually concealing the face, as they were spread over the plain butexquisitely neat table of cherry-wood, which, by being placed at the sideof one of less costly material, was intended to form the only distinctionbetween the guests, as, in more ancient times and in other countries, thesalt was known to mark the difference in rank among those who partook ofthe same feast.

"Mark," said a timid voice at his elbow, "thou art weary with thisnight-watching, and with the scouting on the hills. Dost not think oftaking food before seeking thy rest?"

"I sleep not," returned the youth, raising his head, and gently pushingaside the basin of simple food that was offered by one whose eye lookedfeelingly on his flushed features, and whose suffused cheek perhapsbetrayed there was secret consciousness that the glance was kinder thanmaiden diffidence should allow. "I sleep not, Martha, nor doth it seem tome, that I shall ever sleep again."

"Thou frightest me by this wild and unhappy eye. Hast suffered aught inthe march on the mountains?"

"Dost think one of my years and strength unable to bear the weariness of afew hours' watching in the forest? The body is well, but the mind endurethgrievously."

"And wilt not say what causeth this vexation? Thou knowest, Mark, thatthere are none in this dwelling--nay, I am certain, I might add in thisvalley, that do not wish thee happiness."

"'Tis kind to say it, good Martha--but, thou never hadst a sister!"

"'Tis true, I am all of my race; and yet to me it seemeth that no tie ofblood could have been nearer than the love I bore to her who is lost."

"Nor mother! Thou never knew'st what 'tis to reverence a parent."

"And is not thy mother mine?" answered a voice that was deeply melancholy,and yet so soft that it caused the young man to gaze intently at hiscompanion, for a moment, ere he again spoke.

"True, true," he said hurriedly. "Thou must and dost love her who hathnursed thy infancy, and brought thee, with care and tenderness, to so fairand happy a womanhood." The eye of Martha grew brighter, and the color ofher healthful cheek deepened, as Mark unconsciously uttered thiscommendation of her appearance; but as she shrunk, with femalesensitiveness, from his observation, the change was unnoticed, and hecontinued: "Thou seest that my mother is drooping, hourly, under thissorrow for our little Ruth; and who can say what may be the end of a griefthat endureth so long?"

"'Tis true that there hath been reason to fear much in her behalf; but, oflate, hope hath gotten the better of apprehension. Thou dost not well,nay, I am not assured thou dost not evil, to permit this discontent withProvidence, because thy mother yieldeth to a little more than her usualmourning, on account of the unexpected return of one so nearly connectedwith her that we have lost."

"'Tis not that, girl--'tis not that!"

"If thou refusest to say what 'tis that giveth thee this pain, I can dolittle more than pity."

"Listen, and I will say. It is now many years, as thou knowest, since thesavage Mohawk, or Narragansett, Pequot, or Wampanoag, broke in upon oursettlement, and did his vengeance. We were then children, Martha; and 'tisas a child, that I have thought of that merciless burning. Our little Ruthwas, like thyself, a blooming infant of some seven or eight years; and, Iknow not how the folly hath beset me, but it hath been ever as one of thatinnocence and age, that I have continued to think of my sister."

"Surely thou knowest that time cannot stay; the greater therefore is thereason that we should be industrious to improve--"

"'Tis what our duty teacheth. I tell thee, Martha, that at night, whendreams come over me, as they sometimes will, and I see our Ruth wanderingin the forest, it is as a playful, laughing child, such as we knew her;and even while waking, do I fancy my sister at my knee, as she was wont tostand when listening to those idle tales with which we lightened ourchildhood."

"But we had our birth in the same year and month--dost think of me too,Mark, as one of that childish age?"

"Of thee! That cannot well be. Do I not see that thou art grown into thecondition of a woman, that thy little tresses of brown have become thejet-black and flowing hair that becomes thy years, and that thou hast thestature, and, I say it not in idleness of speech, Martha, for thou knowestmy tongue is no vain flatterer, but do I not see that thou hast grown intoall the excellence of a most comely maiden? But 'tis not thus, or rather'twas not thus, with her we mourn; for till this hour have I ever picturedmy sister the little innocent we sported with, that gloomy night she wassnatched from our arms by the cruelty of the savage."

"And what hath changed this pleasing image of our Ruth?" asked hiscompanion, half-covering her face to conceal the still deeper glow offemale gratification which had been kindled by the words just heard. "Ioften think of her as thou hast described, nor do I now see why we may notstill believe her, if she yet live, all that we could desire to see."

"That cannot be--The delusion is gone, and in its place a frightful truthhas visited me. Here is Whittal Ring, whom we lost a boy; thou seest he isreturned a man, and a savage! No, no; my sister is no longer the child Iloved to think her, but one grown into the estate of womanhood."

"Thou thinkest of her unkindly, while thou thinkest of others far lessendowed by nature with too much indulgence; for thou rememberest, Mark,she was ever of more pleasing aspect than any that we knew."

"I know not that--I say not that--I think not that. But be she whathardships and exposure may have made her, still must Ruth Heathcote be fartoo good for an Indian wigwam. Oh! 'tis horrible to believe that she isthe bond-woman, the servitor, the wife of a savage!"

Martha recoiled, and an entire minute passed, during which she made noreply. It was evident that the revolting idea for the first time crossedher mind, and all the natural feelings of gratified and maiden pridevanished before the genuine and pure sympathies of a female bosom.

"This cannot be," she at length murmured--"it can never be! Our Ruthmust still remember the lessons taught her in infancy. She knoweth sheis born of Christian lineage! of reputable name! of exalted hope! ofglorious promise!"

"Thou seest by the manner of Whittal, who is of greater age, how little ofthat taught, can withstand the wily savage."

"But Whittal faileth of Nature's gifts; he hath ever been below the restof men in understanding."

"And yet to what degree of Indian cunning hath he already attained!"

"But Mark," rejoined his companion, timidly, as if, while she felt all itsforce, she only consented to urge the argument in tenderness to theharassed feelings of the brother, "we are of equal years; that which hathhappened to me, may well have been the fortune of our Ruth."

"Dost mean that being unespoused thyself, or that having, at thy years,inclinations that are free, my sister may have escaped the bitter curse ofbeing the wife of a Narragansett, or what is not less frightful, the slaveof his humors?"

"Truly, I mean little else than the former."

"And not the latter," continued the young man, with a quickness thatshowed some sudden revolution in his thoughts. "But though with opinionsthat are decided, and with kindness awakened in behalf of one favored,thou hesitatest, Martha, it is not like that a girl left in the fetters ofsavage life would so long pause to think. Even here in the settlements,all are not difficult of judgment as thou!"

The long lashes vibrated above the dark eyes of the maiden, and, for aninstant, it seemed as if she had no intention to reply. But lookingtimidly aside, she answered in a voice so low, that her companion scarcelygathered the meaning of that she uttered.

"I know not how I may have earned this false character among my friends,"she said; "for to me it ever seemeth that what I feel and think is but tooeasily known."

"Then is the smart gallant from the Hartford town, who cometh and goeth sooften between this distant settlement and his father's house, betterassured of his success than I had thought. He will not journey the longroad much oftener, alone!"

"I have angered thee, Mark, or thou wouldst not speak with so cold an eye,to one who hath ever lived with thee in kindness."

"I do not speak in anger, for 'twould be both unreasonable and unmanly todeny all of thy sex right of choice; but yet it doth seem right, that,when taste is suited and judgment appeased, there should be little motivefor withholding speech."

"And wouldst thou have a maiden, of my years, in haste to believe that shewas sought, when haply it may be, that he of whom you speak is in quest ofthy society and friendship, rather than of my favor?""Then might he spare much labor and some bodily suffering, unless he findsgreat pleasure in the saddle; for I know not a youth in the ConnecticutColony, for whom I have smaller esteem. Others may see matter of approvalin him, but, to me, he is of bold speech, ungainly air, and greatdisagreeableness of discourse."

"I am happy that at last we find ourselves of one mind; for that, thousay'st of the youth, is much as I have long considered him."

"Thou! Thou thinkest of the gallant thus! Then why dost listen to hissuit? I had believed thee a girl too honest, Martha, to affect suchniceties of deception. With this opinion of his character, why not refusehis company?"

"Can a maiden speak too hastily?"

"And if here, and ready to ask thy favor, the answer would be----"

"No!" said the girl, raising her eyes for an instant, and bashfullymeeting the eager look of her companion, though she uttered themonosyllable firmly.

Mark seemed bewildered. An entirely new and a novel idea took possessionof his brain. The change was apparent by his altering countenance and acheek that glowed like flame. What he might have said, most of ourreaders over fifteen may presume; but, at that moment, the voices ofthose who had accompanied Whittal to the ruin were heard on their return,and Martha glided away so silently as to leave him for a moment ignorantof her absence.

"Oh! when amid the throngs of men
The heart grows sick of hollow mirth,
How willingly we turn us, then.
Away from this cold earth;
And look into thy azure breast,
For seats of innocence and rest!"

Bryant's Skies

The day was the Sabbath. This religious festival, which is even nowobserved in most of the States of the Union with a strictness that islittle heeded in the rest of Christendom, was then reverenced with aseverity suited to the austere habits of the Colonists. The circumstancethat one should journey on such a day, had attracted the observation ofall in the hamlet; but, as the stranger had been seen to ride towards thedwelling of the Heathcotes, and the times were known to teem with morethan ordinary interests to the Province, it was believed that he found hisjustification in some apology of necessity. Still, none ventured forth toinquire into the motive of this extraordinary visit. At the end of anhour, the horseman was seen to depart as he had arrived, seemingly urgedon by the calls of some pressing emergency. He had in truth proceededfurther with his tidings, though the lawfulness of discharging even thisimperious duty on the Sabbath had been gravely considered in the Councilsof those who had sent him. Happily they had found, or thought they hadfound, in some of the narratives of the sacred volume, a sufficientprecedent to bid their messenger proceed.

In the mean time, the unusual excitement, which had been so unexpectedlyawakened in the dwelling of the Heathcotes, began to subside in that quietwhich is in so beautiful accordance with the sacred character of the day.The sun rose bright and cloudless above the hills, every vapor of the pastnight melting before his genial warmth into the invisible element. Thevalley then lay in that species of holy calm which conveys so sweet and soforcible an appeal to the heart. The world presented a picture of theglorious handywork of him who seems to invite the gratitude and adorationof his creatures. To the mind yet untainted, there is exquisite lovelinessand even godlike repose in such a scene. The universal stillness permitsthe softest natural sounds to be heard; and the buzz of the bee, or thewing of the humming-bird, reaches the ear like the loud notes of a generalanthem. This temporary repose is full of meaning. It should teach how muchof the beauty of this world's enjoyments, how much of its peace, and evenhow much of the comeliness of nature itself, is dependent on the spirit bywhich we are actuated. When man reposes, all around him seems anxious tocontribute to his rest; and when he abandons the contentions of grosserinterests, to elevate his spirit, all living things appear to unite inworship. Although this apparent sympathy of nature may be less true thanimaginative, its lesson is not destroyed, since it sufficiently shows thatwhat man chooses to consider good in this world is good, and that most ofits strife and deformities proceed from his own perversity.

The tenants of the valley of the Wish-Ton-Wish were little wont to disturbthe quiet of the Sabbath. Their error lay in the other extreme, since theyimpaired the charities of life by endeavoring to raise man altogetherabove the weakness of his nature. They substituted the revolting aspect ofa sublimated austerity, for that gracious though regulated exterior, bywhich all in the body may best illustrate their hopes or exhibit theirgratitude. The peculiar air of those of whom we write was generated by theerror of the times and of the country, though something of its singularlyrigid character might have been derived from the precepts and example ofthe individual who had the direction of the spiritual interests of theparish. As this person will have further connexion with the matter of thelegend, he shall be more familiarly introduced in its pages.

The Reverend Meek Wolfe was, in spirit, a rare combination of the humblestself-abasement and of fierce spiritual denunciation. Like so many othersof his sacred calling in the Colony he inhabited, he was not only thedescendant of a line of priests, but it was his greatest earthly hope thathe should also become the progenitor of a race in whom the ministry was tobe perpetuated as severely as if the regulated formula of the Mosaicdispensation were still in existence. He had been educated in the infantcollege of Harvard, an institution that the emigrants from England had thewisdom and enterprise to found, within the first five-and-twenty years oftheir colonial residence. Here this scion of so pious and orthodox a stockhad abundantly qualified himself for the intellectual warfare of hisfuture life, by regarding one set of opinions so steadily, as to leavelittle reason to apprehend he would ever abandon the most trifling of theoutworks of his faith. No citadel ever presented a more hopeless curtainto the besieger, than did the mind of this zealot to the efforts ofconviction; for on the side of his opponents, he contrived that everyavenue should be closed by a wall blank as indomitable obstinacy couldoppose. He appeared to think that all the minor conditions of argument andreason had been disposed of by his ancestors, and that it only remainedfor him to strengthen the many defences of his subject, and, now and then,to scatter by a fierce sortie the doctrinal skirmishers who mightoccasionally approach his parish. There was a remarkable singleness ofmind in this religionist, which, while it in some measure rendered evenhis bigotry respectable, greatly aided in clearing the knotty subject,with which he dealt, of much embarrassing matter. In his eyes, the straitand narrow path would hold but few besides his own flock. He admitted somefortuitous exceptions, in one or two of the nearest parishes, with whoseclergymen he was in the habit of exchanging pulpits; and perhaps, here andthere, in a saint of the other hemisphere, or of the more distant towns ofthe Colonies, the brightness of whose faith was something aided, in hiseyes, by distance, as this opake globe of ours is thought to appear a ballof light to those who inhabit its satellite. In short, there was anadmixture of seeming charity with an exclusiveness of hope, an unwearinessof exertion with a coolness of exterior, a disregard of self with the mostcomplaisant security, and an uncomplaining submission to temporal evilswith the loftiest spiritual pretensions, that in some measure rendered hima man as difficult to comprehend as to describe.

At an early hour in the forenoon, a little bell, that was suspended in anawkward belfry perched on the roof of the meeting-house, began to summonthe congregation to the place of worship. The call was promptly obeyed,and ere the first notes had reached the echoes of the hills, the wide andgrassy street was covered with family groups, all taking the samedirection. Foremost in each little party walked the austere father,perhaps bearing on his arm a suckled infant, or some child yet too youngto sustain its own weight; while at a decent distance followed the equallygrave matron, casting oblique and severe glances at the little trooparound her, in whom acquired habits had yet some conquests to obtain overthe lighter impulses of vanity. Where there was no child to need support,or where the mother chose to assume the office of bearing her infant inperson, the man was seen to carry one of the heavy muskets of the day; andwhen his arms were otherwise employed, the stoutest of his boys served inthe capacity of armor-bearer. But in no instance was this needfulprecaution neglected, the state of the Province and the character of theenemy requiring that vigilance should mingle even with their devotions.There was no loitering on the path, no light and worldly discourse by theway, nor even any salutations, other than those grave and seriousrecognitions by hat and eye, which usage tolerated as the utmost limit ofcourtesy on the weekly festival.

When the bell changed its tone, Meek appeared from the gate of thefortified house, where he resided, in quality of castellan, on account ofits public character, its additional security, and the circumstance thathis studious habits, permitted him to discharge the trust with less wasteof manual labor than it would cost the village were the responsibleoffice confided to one of more active habits. His consort followed, butat even a greater distance than that taken by the wives of other men, asif she felt the awful necessity of averting even the remotest possibilityof scandal from one of so sacred a profession. Nine offspring of variousages, and one female assistant, of years too tender to be a wife herself,composed the household of the divine, and it was a proof of thesalubrious air of the valley that all were present, since nothing butillness was ever deemed a sufficient excuse for absence from the commonworship. As this little flock issued from the palisadoes, a female, inwhose pale cheek the effects of recent illness might yet be traced, heldopen the gate for the entrance of Reuben King, and a stout youth, whobore the prolific consort of the former, with her bounteous gift, intothe citadel of the village; a place of refuge that nothing but theundaunted resolution of the woman prevented her from occupying before,since more than half of the children of the valley had first seen thelight within the security of its defences.

The family of Meek preceded him into the temple, and when the feet of theminister himself crossed its threshold, there was no human form visiblewithout its walls. The bell ceased its monotonous and mournful note, andthe tall, gaunt form of the divine moved through the narrow aisle to itsusual post, with the air of one who had already more than half rejectedthe burthen of bodily encumbrance. A searching and stern glance was thrownaround, as if he possessed an instinctive power to detect all delinquents;and then seating himself, the deep stillness, that always preceded theexercises, reigned in the place.

When the divine next showed his austere countenance to his expectingpeople, its meaning was expressive rather of some matter of worldlyimport, than of that absence of carnal interest with which he usuallystrove to draw near to his Creator in prayer.

"Captain Content Heathcote," he said with grave severity, after permittinga short pause to awaken reverence, "there has one ridden through thisvalley on the Lord's day, making thy habitation his halting-place. Haththe traveller warranty for this disrespect of the Sabbath, and canst thoufind sufficient reason in his motive, for permitting the stranger withinthy gates to neglect the solemn ordinance delivered on the mount?"

"He rideth on especial commission," answered

Content, who had respectfully arisen, when thus addressed by name; "formatter of grave interest to the well-being of the Colony is contained inthe subject of his errand."

"There is nought more deeply connected with the well-being of man, whetherresident in this Colony or in more lofty empires, than reverence to God'sdeclared will," returned Meek, but half-appeased by the apology. "It wouldhave been expedient for one, who, in common, not only setteth so good anexample himself, but who is also charged with the mantle of authority, tohave looked with distrust into the pretences of a necessity that may beonly seeming."

"The motive shall be declared to the people, at a fitting moment; but ithath seemed more wise to retain the substance of the horseman's errand,until worship hath been offered, without the alloy of temporal concerns."

"Therein hast thou acted discreetly; for a divided mind giveth but littlejoy above. I hope there is equal reason why all of thy household are notwith thee in the temple?"

Notwithstanding the usual self-command of Content, he did not revert tothis subject without emotion. Casting a subdued glance at the empty seatwhere she whom he so much loved was wont to worship at his side, he said,in a voice that evidently struggled to maintain its customary equanimity--"There has been powerful interest awakened beneath my roof this day; andit may be that the duty of the Sabbath has been overlooked by minds soexercised. If we have therein sinned, I hope he that looketh kindly on thepenitent will forgive! She of whom thou speakest, hath been shaken by theviolence of griefs renewed; though willing in spirit, a feeble and sinkingframe is not equal to support the fatigue of appearing here, even thoughit be the house of God."

This extraordinary exercise of pastoral authority was uninterrupted,even by the breathings of the congregation. Any incident of an unusualcharacter had attraction for the inhabitants of a village so remote; buthere was deep, domestic interest, connected with breach of usage andindeed of law and all heightened by that secret influence that leads usto listen, with singular satisfaction, to those emotions in others,which it is believed to be natural to wish to conceal. Not a syllablethat fell from the lips of the divine, or of Content, not a deep tone ofseverity in the former, nor a struggling accent of the latter, escapedthe dullest ear in that assembly. Notwithstanding the grave andregulated air that was common to all, it is needless to say there waspleasure in the little interruption of this scene; which, however, wasfar from being extraordinary in a community where it was not onlybelieved that spiritual authority might extend itself to the mostfamiliar practices, but where few domestic interests were deemed soexclusive, or individual feelings considered so sacred, that a verylarge proportion of the whole neighborhood might not claim a right toparticipate largely in both. The Reverend Mr. Wolfe was appeased by theexplanation, and after allowing a sufficient time to elapse, in orderthat the minds of the congregation should recover their tone, heproceeded with the regular services of the morning.

It is needless to recount the well-known manner of the religious exercisesof the Puritans. Enough of their forms and of their substance has beentransmitted to us, to render both manner and doctrine familiar to most ofour readers. We shall therefore confine our duty to a relation of suchportions of the ceremonies, if that which sedulously avoided everyappearance of form can thus be termed, as have an immediate connexion withthe incidents.

The divine had gone through the short opening prayer, had read the passageof holy writ, had given out the verses of the psalm, and had joined in thestrange nasal melody with which his flock endeavored to render it doublyacceptable, and had ended his long and fervent wrestling of the spirit ina colloquial petition of some forty minutes' duration; in which directallusion had been made not only to the subject of his recent examination,but to divers other familiar interests of his parishioners; and allwithout any departure from the usual zeal on his own part, or of thecustomary attention and grave decorum on that of his people. But when, forthe second time, he arose to read another song of worship andthanksgiving, a form was seen in the centre or principal aisle, that, aswell by its attire and aspect, as by the unusual and irreverent tardinessof its appearance, attracted general observation. Interruptions of thisnature were unfrequent, and even the long practised and abstractedminister paused, for an instant, ere he proceeded with the hymn, thoughthere was a suspicion current among the more instructed of hisparishioners, that the sonorous version was an effusion of his own muse.

The intruder was Whittal Ring. The witless young man had strayed from theabode of his sister, and found his way into that general receptacle, wheremost of the village was congregated. During his former residence in thevalley, there had been no temple: and the edifice, its interiorarrangements, the faces of those it contained, and the business on whichthey had assembled, appeared alike strangers to him. It was only when thepeople lifted up their voices in the song of praise, that some glimmeringsof his ancient recollections were discoverable in his inactivecountenance. Then, indeed, he betrayed a portion of the delight whichpowerful sounds can quicken, even in beings of his unhappy mentalconstruction. As he was satisfied, however, to remain in a retired part ofthe aisle, listening with dull admiration, even the grave Ensign Dudley,whose eye had once or twice seemed ominous of displeasure, saw nonecessity for interference.

Meek had chosen for his text, on that day, a passage from the book ofJudges: "And the children of Israel did evil in the sight of the Lord; andthe Lord delivered them into the hands of Midian seven years." With thistext the subtle-minded divine dealt powerfully, entering largely into themysterious and allegorical allusions then so much in vogue. In whatevermanner he viewed the subject, he found reason to liken the suffering,bereaved and yet chosen dwellers of the Colonies, to the race of theHebrews. If they were not set apart and marked from all others of theearth, in order that one mightier than man should spring from their loins,they were led into that distant wilderness, far from the temptations oflicentious luxury, or the worldly-mindedness of those who built theirstructure of faith on the sands of temporal honors, to preserve the wordin purity. As there appeared no reason on the part of the divine himselfto distrust this construction of the words he had quoted, so it wasevident that most of his listeners willingly lent their ears to sosoothing an argument.

In reference to Midian, the preacher was far less explicit. That the greatfather of evil was in some way intended by this allusion, could not bedoubted; but in what manner the chosen inhabitants of those regions wereto feel his malign influence, was matter of more uncertainty. At times,the greedy ears of those who had long been wrought up into the impressionthat visible manifestations of the anger or of the love of Providencewere daily presented to their eyes, were flattered with the stern joy ofbelieving that the war which then raged around them was intended to puttheir moral armor to the proof, and that out of the triumph of theirvictories were to flow honor and security to the church. Then cameambiguous qualifications, which left it questionable whether a return ofthe invisible powers, that had been known to be so busy in the Provinces,were not the judgment intended. It is not to be supposed that Meek himselfhad the clearest mental intelligence on a point of this subtlety, forthere was something of misty hallucination in the manner in which hetreated it, as will be seen by his closing words.

"To imagine that Azazel regardeth the long suffering and stedfastness of achosen people with a pleasant eye," he said, "is to believe that themarrow of righteousness can exist in the carrion of deceit. We havealready seen his envious spirit raging in many tragical instances. Ifrequired to raise a warning beacon to your eyes, by which the presence ofthis treacherous enemy might be known, I should say, in the words of onelearned and ingenious in this craftiness, that, 'when a person, havingfull reason, doth knowingly and wittingly seek and obtain of the Devil, orany other God besides the true God Jehovah, an ability to do or knowstrange things, which he cannot by his own human abilities arrive unto,'that then he may distrust his gifts and tremble for his soul. And, oh! mybrethren how many of ye cling at this very moment to those tragicaldelusions, and worship the things of the world, instead of fattening onthe famine of the desert, which is the sustenance of them that would livefor ever! Lift your eyes upward, my brethren--"

"Rather turn them to the earth!" interrupted a deep, authoritative voicefrom the body of the church; "there is present need of all your facultiesto save life, and even to guard the tabernacle of the Lord!"

Religious exercises composed the recreation of the dwellers in thatdistant settlement. When they met in companies to lighten the load oflife, prayer and songs of praise were among the usual indulgences of theentertainment. To them, a sermon was like a gay scenic exhibition in otherand vainer communities, and none listened to the word with cold andinattentive ears. In literal obedience to the command of the preacher, andsympathizing with his own action, every eye in the congregation had beenturned towards the naked rafters of the roof, when the unknown tones ofhim who spoke broke the momentary delusion. It is needless to say that, bya common movement, they sought an explanation of this extraordinaryappeal. The divine became mute, equally with wonder and with indignation.

A first glance was enough to assure all present, that new and importantinterests were likely to be awakened. A stranger of grave aspect, and of acalm but understanding eye, stood at the side of Whittal Ring. His attirewas of the simple guise and homely materials of the country. Still he boreabout his person enough of the equipments of one familiar with the wars ofthe eastern hemisphere, to strike the senses. His hand was armed with ashining broadsword, such as were then used by the cavaliers of England,and at his back was slung the short carabine of one who battled in thesaddle. His mien was dignified and even commanding, and there was nosecond look necessary to show that he was an intruder of a characteraltogether different from the moping innocent at his side.

"Why is one of an unknown countenance come to disturb the worship of thetemple?" demanded Meek, when astonishment permitted utterance. "Thricehath this holy day been profaned by the foot of the stranger, and well mayit be doubted whether we live not under an evil agency."

"Arm, men of the Wish-Ton-Wish! arm, and to your defences!"

A cry arose without, that seemed to circle the whole valley; and then athousand whoops rolled out of the arches of the forest, and appeared tomeet in one hostile din above the devoted hamlet. Those were sounds thathad been too often heard, or too often described, not to be generallyunderstood. A scene of wild confusion followed.

Each man, on entering the church, had deposited his arms at the door,and thither most of the stout borderers were now seen hastening, toresume their weapons. Women gathered their children to their sides, andthe wails of horror and alarm were beginning to break through therestraints of habit.

"Peace!" exclaimed the pastor, seemingly excited to a degree abovehuman emotion. "Ere we go forth, let there be a voice raised to ourheavenly Father. The asking shall be as a thousand men of war battlingin our behalf!"

The commotion ceased as suddenly as if a mandate had been issued fromthat place to which their petition was to be addressed. Even thestranger, who had regarded the preparations with a stern but anxious eye,bowed his head, and seemed to join in the prayer, with a devoted andconfiding heart.

"Lord!" said Meek, stretching his meagre arms, with the palms of the handsopen, high above the heads of his flock, "at thy bidding, we go forth withthy aid, the gates of hell shall not prevail against us; with thy mercy,there is hope in heaven and on earth. It is for thy tabernacle that weshed blood; it is for thy word that we contend Battle in our behalf, Kingof Kings! send thy heavenly legions to our succor, that the song ofvictory may be incense at thy altars, and a foul hearing to the ears ofthe enemy--Amen."

There was a depth in the voice of the speaker, a supernatural calmness inthe tones, and so great a confidence in the support of the mighty allyimplored, that the words went to every heart. It was impossible thatNature should not be powerful within, but a high and exciting enthusiasmbegan to lift the people far above its influence. Thus awakened by anappeal to feelings that had never slumbered, and stimulated by all themoving interests of life, the men of the valley poured out of the templein defence of person and fire-side, and, as they believed, of religionand of God.

There was pressing necessity, not only for this zeal, but for all thephysical energies of the stoutest of their numbers. The spectacle that metthe view, on issuing into the open air, was one that might have appalledthe hearts of warriors more practised, and have paralyzed the efforts ofmen less susceptible to the impressions of a religious excitement.

Dark forms were leaping through the fields, on the hill-sides; and alladown the slopes that conducted to the valley, armed savages were seenpouring madly forward, on their path of destruction and vengeance. Behindthem, the brand and the knife had been already used; for the log tenement,the stacks and the out-buildings of Reuben Ring, and of several others whodwelt in the skirts of the settlement, were sending forth clouds of murkysmoke, in which forked and angry flames were already flashing fiercely.But danger most pressed still nearer. A long line of fierce warriors waseven in the meadows; and in no direction could the eye be turned, that itdid not meet with the appalling proof that the village was completelysurrounded by an overwhelming superiority of force.

"To the garrison!" shouted some of the foremost of those who first saw thenature and imminency of the danger, pressing forward themselves in thedirection of the fortified house. "To the garrison, or we are lost!"

"Hold!" exclaimed that voice which was so strange to the ears of most ofthose who heard it, but which spoke in a manner that by its compass andfirmness commanded obedience. "With this mad disorder, we are truly lost!Let Captain Content Heathcote come to my councils."

Notwithstanding the tumult and confusion which had now in truth begun torage fearfully around him, the quiet and self-restrained individual towhom the legal and perhaps moral right to command belonged, had lost noneof his customary composure. It was plain, by the look of powerfulamazement with which he had at first regarded the stranger, on his suddeninterruption of the service, and by the glances of secret intelligence andof recognition they exchanged, that they had met before. But this was notime for greetings or explanations, nor was that a scene in which to wastethe precious moments in useless contests about opinions.

"I am here," said he who was thus called for; "ready to lead whither thyprudence and experience shall point the way."

"Speak to the people, and separate the combatants in three bodies of equalstrength. One shall press forward to the meadows, and beat back thesavage, ere he encircle the palisadoed house; the second shall proceedwith the feeble and tender, in their flight to its covers; and with thethird--but thou knowest that which I would do with the third Hasten, or welose all by tardiness."

It was perhaps fortunate that orders so necessary and so urgent weregiven to one little accustomed to superfluity of speech. Without offeringeither commendation or dissent, Content obeyed. Accustomed to hisauthority, and conscious of the critical situation of all that was dear,the men of the village yielded an obedience more prompt and effective thanit is usual to meet in soldiers who are not familiar with habits ofdiscipline. The fighting men were quickly separated in three bodies,consisting of rather more than a score of combatants in each. One,commanded by Eben Dudley, advanced at quick time towards the meadows inthe rear of the fortress, that the whooping body of savages, who werealready threatening to cut off the retreat of the women and children,should be checked; while another departed in a nearly opposite direction,taking the street of the hamlet, for the purpose of meeting those whoadvanced by the southern entrance of the valley. The third and last ofthese small but devoted bodies, remained stationary, in attendance formore definite orders.

At the moment when the first of these little divisions of force was readyto move, the divine appeared in its front, with an air in which spiritualreliance on the purposes of Providence, and some show of temporaldetermination, were singularly united. In one hand he bore a Bible, whichhe raised on high as the sacred standard of his followers, and in theother he brandished a short broadsword, in a manner that proved theremight be danger in encountering its blade. The volume was open, and atbrief intervals the divine read, in high and excited voice, such passagesas accidentally met his eye, the leaves blowing about in a manner toproduce a rather remarkable admixture of doctrine and sentiment. But tothese trifling moral incongruities, both the pastor and his parishionerswere alike indifferent; their subtle mental exercises having given birthto a tendency of aptly reconciling all seeming discrepancies, as well asof accommodating the most abstruse doctrines to the more familiarinterests of life.

"Israel and the Philistines had put their battle in array, army againstarmy," commenced Meek, as the troop he led began its advance. Then,reading at short intervals, he continued, "Behold, I will do a thing inIsrael, at which both the ears of every one that heareth it shalltingle."--"Oh house of Aaron, trust in the Lord; he is thy help and thyshield." "Deliver me, O Lord, from the evil man preserve me from theviolent man."--"Let burning coals fall upon them; let them be cast intothe fire; into deep pits, that they rise not again."--"Let the wicked fallinto their own nets, whilst that I, withal, escape."--"Therefore doth myfather love me, because I lay down my life, that I may take itagain."--"He that hateth me, hateth my father also."--"Father, forgivethem, for they know not what they do."--"They have heard that it hathbeen said, an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth."--"For Joshua drewnot his hand back, wherewith he stretched out the spear, until he hadutterly destroyed all the inhabitants of Ai------" Thus far the words ofMeek were intelligible to those who remained, but distance soon confoundedthe syllables. Then nought was audible but the yells of the enemy, thetramp of the men who pressed in the rear of the priest, with a display ofmilitary pomp as formidable as their limited means would allow, and thoseclear high tones, which sounded in the ears and quickened the blood at thehearts of his followers, as though they had been trumpet-blasts. In a fewmore minutes the little band was scattered behind the covers of thefields, and the rattling of fire-arms succeeded to the quaint andcharacteristic manner of their march.

While this movement was made in front the party ordered to cover thevillage was not idle, Commanded by a sturdy yeoman, who filled the officeof Lieutenant, it advanced with less of religious display, but with equalactivity, in the direction of the South; and the sounds of contention werequickly heard, proclaiming both the urgency of the measure and the warmthof the conflict.

In the mean time, equal decision, though tempered by some circumstances ofdeep personal interest, was displayed by those who had been left in frontof the church. As soon as the band of Meek had got to such a distance asto promise security to those who followed, the stranger commanded thechildren to be led towards the fortified house. This duty was performed bythe trembling mothers, who had been persuaded, with difficulty, to deferit until cooler heads should pronounce that the proper moment had come. Afew of the women dispersed among the dwellings in quest of the infirmwhile all the boys of proper age were actively employed in transportingindispensable articles from the village, within the palisadoes. As theseseveral movements were simultaneous, but a very few minutes elapsedbetween the time when the orders were issued and the moment when they wereaccomplished.

"I had intended that thou shouldst have had the charge in the meadows,"said the stranger to Content, when nought remained to be performed, butthat which had been reserved for the last of the three little bands offighting men. "But as the work proceedeth bravely in that quarter, we willmove in company. Why doth this maiden tarry?"

"Truly I know not, unless it may be of fear. There is an opening for thypassage into the fort, Martha, with others of thy sex."

"I will follow the fighters that are about to march to the rescue of themthat remain in our habitation," said the girl, in a low but steady voice,

"And how know'st thou that such is the service intended for those herearrayed?" demanded the stranger, with a little show of displeasure thathis military purposes should have been anticipated.

"I see it in the countenances of them that tarry," returned the other,gazing furtively towards Mark who, posted in the little line, could withdifficulty brook a delay which threatened his father's house, and thosewhom it held, with so much jeopardy.

"Forward!" cried the stranger. "Here is no leisure for dispute. Let themaiden take wisdom, and hasten to the fort. Follow, men stout of heart! orwe come too late to the succor."

Martha waited until the party had advanced a few paces, and then, insteadof obeying the repeated mandate to consult her personal safety, she tookthe direction of the armed band.

"I fear me that 'twill exceed our strength," observed the stranger, whomarched in front at the side of Content, "to make good the dwelling, at sogreat distance from further aid."

"And yet the visitation will be heavy, that shall drive us for a secondtime to the fields for a resting-place. In what manner didst get warningof this inroad?"

"The savages believed themselves concealed in the cunning place, wherethou know'st that my eye had opportunity to overlook their artifices Thereis a Providence in our least seeming calculations: an imprisonment ofweary years hath its reward in this warning!"

Content appeared to acquiesce, but the situation of affairs prevented thediscourse from becoming more minute.

As they approached the dwelling of the Heathcotes, better opportunity ofobserving the condition of things, in and around the house, was of courseobtained. The position of the building would have rendered any attempt, onthe part of those in it, to gain the fort ere the arrival of assistance,desperately hazardous, since the meadows that lay between them werealready alive with the ferocious warriors of the enemy. But it was evidentthat the Puritan, whose infirmities kept him within doors, entertained nosuch design; for it was shortly apparent that those within were closingand barring the windows of the habitation, and that other provisions fordefence were in the course of active preparation. The feelings ofContent, who knew that the house contained only his wife and father, withone female assistant, were excited to agony, as the party he commandeddrew near on one side, at a distance about equal to that of a band of theenemy, who were advancing diagonally from the woods, on the other. He sawthe efforts of those so dear to him, as they had recourse to the means ofsecurity provided to repel the very danger which now threatened; and, tohis eyes, it appeared that the trembling hands of Ruth had lost theirpower, when haste and confusion more than once defeated the object of herexertions.

"We must break and charge, or the savage will be too speedy!" he said, intones that grew thick from breathing quicker than was wont for one of hiscalm temperament. "See! they enter the orchard! in another minute, theywill be masters of the dwelling!"

But his companion marched with a firmer step and looked with a coolereye. There was, in his gaze, the understanding of a man practised inscenes of sudden danger, and in his mien the authority of one accustomedto command.

"Fear not," he answered; "the art of old Mark Heathcote hath departed fromhim, or he still knoweth how to make good his citadel against a firstonset. If we quit our order, the superiority of concert will be lost, andbeing few in numbers, defeat will be certain; but with this front, and afitting steadiness, our march may not be repulsed. To thee, CaptainContent Heathcote, it need not be told, that he who now counsels hath seenthe strife of savages ere this hour."

"I know it well--but dost not see my Ruth, laboring at the ill-fittedshutter of the chamber? The woman will be slain, in her heedlessness--for,hark! there beginneth the volley of the enemy!"

"No, 'tis he who led my troop in a far different warfare!" exclaimed thestranger, whose form grew more erect, and whose thoughtful anddeeply-furrowed features assumed something like the stern pleasure whichkindles in the soldier as the sounds of contention increase. "'Tis oldMark Heathcote, true to his breeding and his name! he hath let off theculverin upon the knaves! behold, they are already disposed to abandonone who speaketh so boldly, and are breaking through the fences to theleft, that we may taste something of their quality. Now, bold Englishmen,strong of hand and stout of heart, you have training in your duty, andyou shall not be wanting in example. You have wives and children at hand,looking at your deeds; and there is one above, that taketh note of themanner in which you serve in his cause. Here is an opening for yourskill; scourge the cannibals with the hand of death! On, on to the onset,and to victory!"

Hect. Is this Achilles?
Achil. I am Achilles.
Hect. Stand fair, I pray thee--let me look on thee.

Troilus and Cressida.

It may now be necessary to take a rapid glance at the situation of thewhole combat, which had begun to thicken in different parts of the valley.The party led by Dudley, and exhorted by Meek, had broken its order onreaching the meadows behind the fort, and, seeking the covers of thestumps and fences, it had thrown in its fire, with good effect, on theirregular band that pressed into the fields. This decision quickly causeda change in the manner of the advance. The Indians took to covers, intheir turn, and the struggle assumed that desultory but dangerouscharacter, in which the steadiness and resources of the individual are putto the severest trial. Success appeared to vacillate; the white men at onetime widening the distance between them and their friends in the dwelling,and, at another, falling back as if disposed to seek the shelter of thepalisadoes. Although numbers were greatly in favor of the Indians, weaponsand skill supported the cause of their adversaries. It was the evidentwish of the former to break in upon the little band that opposed theirprogress to the village, in and about which they saw that scene of hurriedexertion which has already been described--a spectacle but little likelyto cool the furious ardor of an Indian onset. But the wary manner in whichDudley conducted his battle, rendered this an experiment of exceedinghazard. However heavy of intellect the Ensign might appear on otheroccasions, the present was one every way adapted to draw out his best andmost manly qualities. Of large and powerful stature, he felt, in momentsof strife, a degree of confidence in himself, that was commensurate withthe amount of physical force he wielded. To this hardy assurance was to beadded no trifling portion of the sort of enthusiasm that can be awakenedin the most sluggish bosoms, and which, like the anger of an even-temperedman, is only the more formidable from the usually quiet habits of theindividual. Nor was this the first, by many, of Ensign Dudley's warlikedeeds. Besides the desperate affair already related in these pages, he hadbeen engaged in divers hostile expeditions against the aborigines, and onall occasions had he shown a cool head and a resolute mind.

There was pressing necessity for both these essential qualities, in thesituation in which the Ensign now found himself. By properly extending hislittle force, and yet keeping it at the same time perfectly withinsupporting distance, by emulating the caution of his foes in consultingthe covers, and by reserving a portion of his fire throughout the brokenand yet well-ordered line, the savages were finally beaten back, fromstump to stump, from hillock to hillock, and fence to fence, until theyhad fairly entered the margin of the forest. Further the experienced eyeof the borderer saw he could not follow. Many of his men were bleeding,and growing weaker as their wounds still flowed. The protection of thetrees gave the enemy too great an advantage for their position to beforced, and destruction would have been the inevitable consequence of theclose struggle which must have followed a charge. In this stage of thecombat, Dudley began to cast anxious and inquiring looks behind him. Hesaw that support was not to be expected, and he also saw, with regret,that many of the women and children were still busy, transportingnecessaries from the village into the fort. Falling back to a better lineof covers, and to a distance that materially lessened the danger of thearrows, the weapons used by quite two-thirds of his enemies, he awaited,in sullen silence, the proper moment to effect a further retreat.

It was while the party of Dudley stood thus at bay, that a fierce yellrung in the arches of the forest. It was an exclamation of pleasure,uttered in the wild manner of those people; as if the tenants of the woodswere animated by some sudden and general impulse of joy. The crouchingyeomen regarded each other in uneasiness, but seeing no sign of waveringin the steady mien of their leader, each man kept close, awaiting somefurther exhibition of the devices of their foes. Ere another minute hadpassed, two warriors appeared at the margin of the wood, where they stoodapparently in contemplation of the different scenes that were acting invarious parts of the valley. More than one musket was levelled with intentto injure them, but a sign from Dudley prevented attempts that would mostprobably have been frustrated by the never-slumbering vigilance of a NorthAmerican Indian.

There was however something in the air and port of these twoindividuals, that had its share in producing the forbearance of Dudley.They were evidently both chiefs, and of far more than usual estimation.As was common with the military leaders of the Indians, they were menalso of large and commanding stature. Viewed at the distance from whichthey were seen, one seemed a warrior who had reached the meridian of hisdays, while the other had the lighter step and more flexible movement ofa much briefer existence. Both were well armed, and, as was usual withpeople of their origin on the war-path, they were clad only in thecustomary scanty covering of waist-cloths and leggings. The former,however, were of scarlet, and the latter were rich in the fringes andbright colors of Indian ornaments. The elder of the two wore a gay beltof wampum around his head, in the form of a turban; but the youngerappeared with a shaven crown, on which nothing but the customarychivalrous scalp-lock was visible.

The consultation, like most of the incidents that have been just related,occupied but a very few minutes. The eldest of the chiefs issued someorders. The mind of Dudley was anxiously endeavoring to anticipate theirnature, when the two disappeared together. The Ensign would now have beenleft entirely to vague conjectures, had not the rapid execution of themandates that had been issued to the youngest of the Indians, soon lefthim in no doubt of their intentions. Another loud and general shout drewhis attention towards the right; and when he had endeavored to strengthenhis position by calling three or four of the best marksmen to that end ofhis little line, the youngest of the chiefs was seen bounding across themeadow, leading a train of whooping followers to the covers that commandedits opposite extremity. In short, the position of Dudley was completelyturned; and the stumps and angles of the fences, which secreted his men,were likely to become of no further use. The emergency demanded decision.Collecting his yeomen, ere the enemy had time to profit by his advantage,the Ensign ordered a rapid retreat towards the fort. In this movement hewas favored by the formation of the ground, a circumstance that had beenwell considered on the advance; and in a very few minutes, the party founditself safely posted under the protection of a scattering fire from thepalisadoes, which immediately checked the pursuit of the whooping andexulting foe. The wounded men, after a stern or rather sullen halt, thatwas intended to exhibit the unconquerable determination of the whites,withdrew into the works for succor, leaving the command of Dudley reducedby nearly one-half of its numbers. With this diminished force, however, hepromptly turned his attention towards the assistance of those who combatedat the opposite extremity of the village.

Allusion has already been made to the manner in which the houses of a newsettlement were clustered near each other, at the commencement of thecolonial establishments. In addition to the more obvious and sufficientmotive, which has given rise to the same inconvenient and unpicturesquemanner of building, over nine-tenths of the continent of Europe, there hadbeen found a religious inducement for the inconvenient custom. One of theenactments of the Puritans said, that "no man shall set hisdwelling-house, above the distance of half-a-mile, or a mile at farthest,from the meeting of the congregation where the church doth usuallyassemble for the worship of God." "The support of the worship of God, inchurch fellowship," was the reason alleged for this arbitrary provision ofthe law; but it is quite probable that support against danger of a moretemporal character was another motive. There were those within the fortwho believed the smoking piles that were to be seen, here and there, inthe clearings on the hills, owed their destruction to a disregard of thatprotection which was thought to be yielded to those who leaned with thegreatest confidence, even in the forms of earthly transactions, on thesustaining power of an all-seeing and all-directing Providence. Among thisnumber was Reuben Ring, who submitted to the loss of his habitation, as toa merited punishment for the light-mindedness that had tempted him toerect a dwelling at the utmost limits of the prescribed distance.

As the party of Dudley retreated, that sturdy yeoman stood at a window ofthe chamber in which his prolific partner with her recent gift were safelylodged, for in that moment of confusion, the husband was compelled todischarge the double duty of sentinel and nurse. He had just fired hispiece and he had reason to think with success, on the enemies that pressedtoo closely on the retiring party, and as he reloaded the gun, he turned amelancholy eye on the pile of smoking embers, that now lay where hishumble but comfortable habitation had so lately stood.

"I fear me, Abundance," he said, shaking his head with a sigh, "that therewas error in the measurement between the meeting and the clearing. Somemisgivings of the lawfulness of stretching the chain across the hollows,came over me at the time; but the pleasant knoll, where the dwellingstood, was so healthful and commodious, that, if it were a sin, I hope itis one that is forgiven! There doth not seem so much as the meanest of itslogs, that is not now melted into white ashes by the fire!"

"Raise me, husband," returned the wife, in the weak voice natural to herfeeble situation; "raise me with thine arm, that I may look upon the placewhere my babes first saw the light."

Her request was granted, and, for a minute, the woman gazed in mute griefat the destruction of her comfortable home. Then, as a fresh yell from thefoe rose on the air without, she trembled, and turned with a mother's caretowards the unconscious beings that slumbered at her side.

"Thy brother hath been driven by the heathen to the foot of thepalisadoes," observed the other, after regarding his companion withmanly kindness for a moment, "and he hath lessened his force by manythat are wounded."

A short but eloquent pause succeeded. The woman turned her tearful faceupwards, and stretching out a bloodless hand, she answered--

"I know what thou wouldst do--it is not meet that Sergeant Ring shouldbe a woman-tender, when the Indian enemy is in his neighbor's fields! Goto thy duty, and that which is to be done, do manfully! and yet would Ihave thee remember how many there are who lean upon thy life for afather's care."

The yeoman first cast a cautious look around him, for this the decent andstern usages of the Puritans exacted, and perceiving that the girl whooccasionally entered to tend the sick was not present, he stooped, andimpressing his lips on the cheek of his wife, he threw a yearning look athis offspring, shouldered his musket, and descended to the court.

When Reuben Ring joined the party of Dudley, the latter had just issued anorder to march to the support of those who still stoutly defended thesouthern entrance of the village. The labor of securing necessaries wasnot yet ended, and it was on every account an object of the lastimportance to make good the hamlet against the enemy. The task, however,was not as difficult as the force of the Indians might, at first, havegiven reason to believe. The conflict, by this time, had extended to theparty which was headed by Content, and, in consequence, the Indians werecompelled to contend with a divided force. The buildings themselves, withthe fences and out-houses, were so many breast-works, and it was plainthat the assailants acted with a caution and concert, that betrayed thedirection of some mind more highly gifted than those which ordinarily fallto the lot of uncivilized men.

The task of Dudley was not so difficult as before, since the enemy ceasedto press upon his march, preferring to watch the movements of those whoheld the fortified house, of whose numbers they were ignorant, and ofwhose attacks they were evidently jealous. As soon as the reinforcementreached the Lieutenant who defended the village, he commanded the charge,and his men advanced with shouts and clamor, some singing spiritual songs,others lifting up their voice in prayer, while a few availed themselves ofthe downright and perhaps equally effective means of raising sounds asfearful as possible. The whole being backed by spirited and well-directeddischarges of musketry, the effort was successful. In a few minutes theenemy fled, leaving that side of the valley momentarily free from danger.

Pursuit would have been folly. After posting a few look-outs in secret andsafe positions among the houses, the whole party returned, with anintention of cutting off the enemy who still held the meadows near thegarrison. In this design, however, their intentions were frustrated. Theinstant they were pressed, the Indians gave way, evidently for the purposeof gaining the protection of the woods; and when the whites returned totheir works, they were followed in a manner to show that they could makeno further movement without the hazard of a serious assault. In thiscondition, the men in and about the fort were compelled to be inefficientspectators of the scene that was taking place around the"Heathcote-house," as the dwelling of old Mark was commonly called.

The fortified building had been erected for the protection of the villageand its inhabitants, an object that its position rendered feasible; but itcould offer no aid to those who dwelt without the range of musketry. Theonly piece of artillery belonging to the settlement, was the culverinwhich had been discharged by the Puritan, and which served for the momentto check the advance of his enemies. But the exclamations of the stranger,and the appeal to his men, with which the last chapter closed,sufficiently proclaimed that the attack was diverted from the house, andthat work of a bloody character now offered itself to those he and hiscompanion led.

The ground around the dwelling of the Heathcotes admitted of closer andmore deadly conflict than that on which the other portions of the combathad occurred. Time had given size to the orchards, and wealth hadmultiplied and rendered more secure the inclosures and out-buildings. Itwas in one of the former that the hostile parties met, and came to thatissue which the warlike stranger had foreseen.

Content, like Dudley, caused his men to separate and they threw in theirfire with the same guarded reservation that had been practised by theother party. Success again attended the efforts of discipline; the whitesgradually beating back their enemies, until there was a probability offorcing them entirely into the open ground in their rear, a success thatwould have been tantamount to a victory. But at this flattering moment,yells were heard behind the leaping and whooping band, that was still seengliding through the openings of the smoke, resembling so many dark andmalignant spectres acting their evil rites. Then, as a chief with aturbaned head, terrific voice, and commanding stature, appeared in theirfront, the whole of the wavering line received an onward impulse. Theyells redoubled; another warrior was seen brandishing a tomahawk on oneflank, and the whole of the deep phalanx came rushing in upon the whites,threatening to sweep them away, as the outbreaking torrent carriesdesolation in its course.

"Men to your square!" shouted the stranger, disregarding cover andlife, together, in such a pressing emergency; "to your square,Christians and be firm!"

The command was repeated by Content, and echoed from mouth to mouth. Butbefore those on the flanks could reach the centre, the shock had come. Allorder being lost, the combat was hand to hand one party fighting fiercelyfor victory, and the other knowing that they stood at the awful peril oftheir lives. After the first discharge of the musket and the twang of thebow, the struggle was maintained with knife and axe; the thrust of theformer, or the descent of the keen and glittering tomahawk, being answeredby sweeping and crushing blows of the musket's but, or by throttlinggrasps of hands that were clenched in the death-gripe. Men fell on eachother in piles, and when the conqueror rose to shake off the bodies ofthose who gasped at his feet, his frowning eye rested alike on friend andenemy. The orchard rang with the yells of the Indians, but the Colonistsfought in mute despair. Sullen resolution only gave way with life; and ithappened more than once, that fearful day, that the usual reeking token ofan Indian triumph was swung before the stern and still conscious eyes ofthe mangled victim from whose head it had been torn.

In this frightful scene of slaughter and ferocity, the principalpersonages of our legend were not idle. By a tacit but intelligentunderstanding, the stranger with Content and his son placed themselvesback to back, and struggled manfully against their luckless fortune. Theformer showed himself no soldier of parade; for, knowing the uselessnessof orders when each one fought for life, he dealt out powerful blows insilence. His example was nobly emulated by Content; and young Mark movedlimb and muscle with the vigorous activity of his age. A first onset ofthe enemy was repelled, and for a moment there was a faint prospect ofescape. At the suggestion of the stranger, the three moved, in theirorder, towards the dwelling, with the intention of trusting to theirpersonal activity when released from the throng. But at this lucklessinstant, when hope was beginning to assume the air of probability, a chiefcame stalking through the horrible mêlée, seeking on each side some victimfor his uplifted axe. A crowd of the inferior herd pressed at his heels,and a first glance told the assailed that the decisive moment had come.

At the sight of so many of their hated enemies still living, and capableof suffering, a common and triumphant shout burst from the lips of theIndians. Their leader, like one superior to the more vulgar emotions ofhis followers, alone approached in silence. As the band opened and dividedto encircle the victims, chance brought him, face to face, with Mark. Likehis foe, the Indian warrior was still in the freshness and vigor of youngmanhood. In stature, years and agility, the antagonists seemed equal; and,as the followers of the chief threw themselves on the stranger andContent, like men who knew their leader needed no aid, there was everyappearance of a fierce and doubtful struggle. But, while neither of thecombatants showed any desire to avoid the contest, neither was in haste togive the commencing blow. A painter, or rather sculptor, would have seizedthe attitudes of these young combatants for a rich exhibition of the powerof his art.

Mark, like most of his friends, had cast aside all superfluous vestmentsere he approached the scene of strife. The upper part of his body wasnaked to the shirt, and even this had been torn asunder by the rudeencounters through which he had already passed. The whole of his full andheaving chest was bare, exposing the white skin and blue veins of onewhose fathers had come from towards the rising sun. His swelling formrested on a leg that seemed planted in defiance, while the other wasthrown in front, like a lever, to control the expected movements. His armswere extended to the rear, the hands grasping the barrel of a musket,which threatened death to all who should come within its sweep. The head,covered with the short, curling, yellow hair of his Saxon lineage, was alittle advanced above the left shoulder, and seemed placed in a manner topreserve the equipoise of the whole frame. The brow was flushed, the lipscompressed and resolute, the veins of the neck and temples swollen nearlyto bursting, and the eyes contracted, but of a gaze that bespoke equallythe feelings of desperate determination and of entranced surprise.

On the other hand, the Indian warrior was a man still more likely to beremarked. The habits of his people had brought him, as usual, into thefield, with naked limbs and nearly uncovered body. The position of hisframe was that of one prepared to leap; and it would have been acomparison tolerated by the license of poetry, to have likened hisstraight and agile form to the semblance of a crouching panther. Theprojecting leg sustained the body, bending under its load more with thefree play of muscle and sinew than from any weight, while the slightlystooping head was a little advanced beyond the perpendicular. One hand wasclenched on the helve of an axe, that lay in a line with the right thighwhile the other was placed, with a firm gripe, on the buck-horn handle ofa knife, that was still sheathed at his girdle. The expression of the facewas earnest, severe, and perhaps a little fierce, and yet the whole wastempered by the immovable and dignified calm of a chief of high qualities.The eye, however, was gazing and riveted; and, like that of the youthwhose life he threatened, it appeared singularly contracted with wonder.

The momentary pause that succeeded the movement by which the twoantagonists threw themselves into these fine attitudes, was full ofmeaning. Neither spoke, neither permitted play of muscle, neither evenseemed to breathe. The delay was not like that of preparation, for eachstood ready for his deadly effort, nor would it have been possible totrace in the compressed energy of the countenance of Mark, or in the loftyand more practised bearing of the front and eye of the Indian, any thinglike wavering of purpose. An emotion foreign to the scene appeared topossess them both, each active frame unconsciously accommodating itself tothe bloody business of the hour, while the inscrutable agency of the mindheld them, for a brief interval, in check.

A yell of death from the mouth of a savage who was beaten to the veryfeet of his chief by a blow of the stranger, and an encouraging shoutfrom the lips of the latter, broke the short trance. The knees of thechief bent still lower, the head of the tomahawk was a little raised, theblade of the knife was seen glittering from its sheath, and the but ofMark's musket had receded to the utmost tension of his sinews, when ashriek and a yell, different from any before heard that day, soundednear. At the same moment, the blows of both the combatants weresuspended, though by the agency of very different degrees of force. Markfelt the arms of one cast around his limbs, with a power sufficient toembarrass, though not to subdue him, while the well-known voice ofWhittal Ring sounded in his ears--

"Murder the lying and hungry Pale-faces! They leave us no food but air--nodrink but water!"

On the other hand, when the chief turned in anger, to strike the daringone who presumed to arrest his arm, he saw at his feet the kneelingfigure, the uplifted hands, and agonized features, of Martha. Averting theblow that a follower already aimed at the life of the suppliant, he spokerapidly in his own language, and pointed to the struggling Mark. Thenearest Indians cast themselves on the already half-captured youth. Awhoop brought a hundred more to the spot, and then a calm as sudden, andalmost as fearful, as the previous tumult, prevailed in the orchard. Itwas succeeded by the long-drawn, frightful, and yet meaning yell by whichthe American warrior proclaims his victory.

With the end of the tumult in the orchard, the sounds of strife ceased inall the valley. Though conscious of the success of their enemies, the menin the fort saw the certainty of destruction, not only to themselves, butto those feeble ones whom they should be compelled to leave without asufficient defence, were they to attempt a sortie to that distance fromtheir works. They were therefore compelled to remain passive and gravespectators of an evil they had not the means to avert.

"Were such things here, as we do speak about?
Or have we eaten of the insane root
That takes the reason prisoner?"

Macbeth.

An hour later presented a different scene. Bands of the enemy, that incivilized warfare would be called parties of observation, lingered in theskirts of the forest nearest to the village; and the settlers still stoodto their arms, posted among the buildings, or maintaining their array atthe foot of the palisadoes. Though the toil of securing the valuablescontinued, it was evident that, as the first terrors of alarm haddisappeared, the owners of the hamlet began to regain some assurance intheir ability to make it good against their enemies. Even the women werenow seen moving through its grassy street with greater seeming confidence,and there was a regularity in the air of the armed men, which denoted adetermination that was calculated to impose on their wild andundisciplined assailants.

But the dwelling, the out-buildings, and all the implements of domesticcomfort, which had so lately contributed to the ease of the Heathcotes,were completely in the possession of the Indians. The open shutters anddoors, the scattered and half-destroyed furniture, the air of devastationand waste, and the general abandonment of all interest in the protectionof the property, proclaimed the licentious disorder of a successfulassault. Still the work of destruction and plunder did not go on.Although here and there might be seen some warrior, decorated, accordingto the humors of his savage taste, with the personal effects of theformer inmates of the building, every hand had been checked, and thefurious tempers of the conquerors had been quieted, seemingly by theagency of some unseen and extraordinary authority. The men, who so latelyhad been moved by the fiercest passions of our nature, were suddenlyrestrained if not appeased; and, instead of that exulting indulgence ofvengeance which commonly accompanies an Indian triumph, the warriorsstalked about the buildings and through the adjacent grounds, in asilence which, though gloomy and sullen, was marked by theircharacteristic submission to events.

The principal leaders of the inroad, and all the surviving sufferers bythe defeat, were assembled in the piazza of the dwelling. Ruth, pale,sorrowing, and mourning for others rather than for herself, stood a littleapart, attended by Martha and the young assistant, whose luckless fortuneit was to be found at her post, on this eventful day. Content, thestranger, and Mark, were near, subdued and bound, the sole survivors ofall that band they had so recently led into the conflict. The gray hairsand bodily infirmities of the Puritan spared him the same degradation. Theonly other being present, of European origin, was Whittal Ring. Theinnocent stalked slowly among the prisoners, sometimes permitting ancientrecollections and sympathies to come over his dull intellect, but oftenertaunting the unfortunate with the injustice of their race, and with thewrongs of his adopted people.

The chiefs of the successful party stood in the centre, apparently engagedin some grave deliberation. As they were few in number, it was evidentthat the council only included men of the highest importance. Chiefs ofinferior rank, but of great names in the limited renown of those simpletribes, conversed in knots among the trees, or paced the court at arespectful distance from the consultation of their superiors.

The least practised eye could not mistake the person of him on whom thegreatest weight of authority had fallen. The turbaned warrior, alreadyintroduced in these pages, occupied the centre of the group, in the calmand dignified attitude of an Indian who hearkens to or who utters advice.His musket was borne by one who stood in waiting, while the knife and axewere returned to his girdle He had thrown a light blanket, or it might bebetter termed a robe of scarlet cloth, over his left shoulder, whence itgracefully fell in folds, leaving the whole of the right arm free, andmost of his ample chest exposed to view. From beneath this mantle, bloodfell slowly in drops, dying the floor on which he stood. The countenanceof this warrior was grave, though there was a quickness in the movementsof an ever-restless eye, that denoted great mental activity, no less thanthe disquiet of suspicion. One skilled in physiognomy might too havethought, that a shade of suppressed discontent was struggling with theself-command of habits that had become part of the nature of theindividual.

The two companions nearest this chief were, like himself, men past themiddle age, and of mien and expression that were similar, though lessstrikingly marked; neither showing those signs of displeasure, whichoccasionally shot from organs that, in spite of a mind so trained and sodespotic, could not always restrain their glittering brightness. One wasspeaking, and by his glance, it was evident that the subject of hisdiscourse was the fourth and last of their number, who had placed himselfin a position that prevented his being an auditor of what was said.

In the person of the latter chief, the reader will recognise the youth whohad confronted Mark, and whose rapid movement on the flank of Dudley hadfirst driven the Colonists from the meadows. The eloquent expression oflimb, the tension of sinews, and the compression of muscles, as lastexhibited, were now gone. They had given place to the peculiar repose thatdistinguishes the Indian warrior in his moments of inaction, quite as muchas it marks the manner of one schooled in the forms of more polished life.With one hand he leaned lightly on a musket, while from the wrist of theother, which hung loose at his side, depended, by a thong of deer's sinew,a tomahawk from which fell drops of human blood. His person bore no othercovering than that in which he had fought, and, unlike his more agedcompanion in authority, his body had escaped without a wound.

In form and in features, this young warrior might be deemed a model ofthe excellence of Indian manhood. The limbs were full, round, faultlesslystraight, and distinguished by an appearance of extreme activity, withoutbeing equally remarkable for muscle. In the latter particular, in theupright attitude, and in the distant and noble gaze which so oftenelevated his front, there was a close affinity to the statue of thePythian Apollo; while in the full, though slightly effeminate chest,there was an equal resemblance to that look of animal indulgence, whichis to be traced in the severe representations of Bacchus. Thisresemblance however to a Deity that is little apt to awaken loftysentiments in the spectator, was not displeasing, since it in somemeasure relieved the sternness of an eye that penetrated like the glanceof the eagle, and that might otherwise have left an impression of toolittle sympathy with the familiar weaknesses of humanity. Still the youngchief was less to be remarked by this peculiar fullness of chest, thefruit of intervals of inaction, constant indulgence of the first wants ofnature, and a total exemption from toil, than most of those, who eithercounselled in secret near, or paced the grounds about the building. Inhim, it was rather a point to be admired, than a blemish; for it seemedto say, that notwithstanding the evidences of austerity which custom, andperhaps character, as well as rank, had gathered in his air, there was aheart beneath that might be touched by the charities of humanity. On thepresent occasion, the glances of his roving eye, though searching andfull of meaning, were evidently weakened by an expression that betrayed astrange and unwonted confusion of mind.

The conference of the three was ended, and the warrior with a turbanedhead advanced towards his captives, with the step of a man whose mind hadcome to a decision. As the dreaded chief drew near, Whittal retired,stealing to the side of the younger warrior, in a manner that denotedgreater familiarity and perhaps greater confidence. A sudden thoughtlighted the countenance of the latter. He led the innocent to theextremity of the piazza, spoke low and earnestly, pointing to the forest,and when he saw that his messenger was already crossing the fields, at thetop of his speed, he moved, with calm dignity, into the centre of thegroup, taking his station so near his friend, that the folds of thescarlet blanket brushed his elbows Until this movement, the silence wasnot broken. When the great chief felt the passage of the other, he glanceda look of hesitation at his friends, but resuming his former air ofcomposure, he spoke:

"Man of many winters," he commenced, in an English that was quiteintelligible, while it betrayed a difficulty of speech we shall notattempt imitating, "why hath the Great Spirit made thy race like hungrywolves?--why hath a Pale-face the stomach of a buzzard, the throat of ahound, and the heart of a deer? Thou hast seen many meltings of the snow:thou rememberest the young tree a sapling. Tell me; why is the mind of aYengeese so big, that it must hold all that lies between the rising andthe setting sun? Speak, for we would know the reason, why arms so long arefound on so little bodies?"

The events of that day had been of a nature to awaken all the latentenergies of the Puritan. He had lifted up his spirit, with the morning,in the customary warmth with which he ever hailed the Sabbath; theexcitement of the assault had found him sustained above most earthlycalamities, and while it quickened feelings that can never become extinctin one who has been familiar with martial usages, it left him, stern inhis manhood, and exalted in his sentiments of submission and endurance.Under such influences, he answered with an austerity that equalled thegravity of the Indian.

"The Lord hath delivered us into the bonds of the heathen," he said,"and yet his name shall be blessed beneath my roof! Out of evil shallcome good; and from this triumph of the ignorant shall proceed aneverlasting victory!"

The chief gazed intently at the speaker, whose attenuated frame, venerableface, and long locks, aided by the hectic of enthusiasm that playedbeneath a glazed and deep-set eye, imparted a character that seemed torise superior to human weakness. Bending his head in superstitiousreverence, he turned gravely to those who, appearing to possess more ofthe world in their natures, were more fitting subjects for the designs hemeditated.

"The mind of my father is strong, but his body is like a branch of thescorched hemlock!" was the pithy declaration with which he prefaced hisnext remark. "Why is this?" he continued, looking severely at the threewho had so lately been opposed to him in deadly contest. "Here are menwith skins like the blossom of the dog-wood, and yet their hands are sodark that I cannot see them!"

"They have been blackened by toil, beneath a burning sun," returnedContent, who knew how to discourse in the figurative language of thepeople in whose power he found himself. "We have labored, that our womenand children might eat."

"No--the blood of red men hath changed their color."

"We have taken up the hatchet, that the land which the Great Spirit hathgiven might still be ours, and that our scalps might not be blown about inthe smoke of a wigwam. Would a Narragansett hide his arms, and tie up hishands, with the war-whoop ringing in his ears?"

When allusion was made to the ownership of the valley, the blood rushedinto the cheek of the warrior in such a flood, that it it deepened eventhe natural swarthy hue; but, clenching the handle of his axeconvulsively, he continued to listen, like one accustomed to entireself-command.

"What a red man does may be seen," he answered, pointing with a grim smiletowards the orchard; exposing, by the movement of the blanket, as heraised his arm, two of the reeking trophies of victory attached to hisbelt. "Our ears are open very wide. We listen, to hear in what manner thehunting-grounds of the Indian have become the plowed fields of theYengeese. Now let my wise men hearken, that they may grow more cunning, asthe snows settle on their heads. The pale-men have a secret to make theblack seem white!"

"Narragansett----"

"Wampanoag!" interrupted the chief, with the lofty air with which anIndian identifies himself with the glory of his people--then glancing amilder look at the young warrior at his elbow, he added, hastily, and inthe tone of a courtier: "'tis very good--Narragansett, orWampanoag--Wampanoag or Narragansett. The red men are brothers andfriends. They have broken down the fences between their hunting-grounds,and they have cleared the paths, between their villages, of briars. Whathave you to say to the Narragansett?--he has not yet shut his ear."

"Wampanoag, if such be thy tribe," resumed Content, "thou shalt hear thatwhich my conscience teacheth is language to be uttered. The God of anEnglishman is the God of men of all ranks, and of all time." His listenersshook their heads doubtingly, with the exception of the youngest chief,whose eye never varied its direction while the other spoke, each wordappearing to enter deep within the recesses of his mind. "In defiance ofthese signs of blasphemy, do I still proclaim the power of him I worship!"Content continued; "My God is thy God; and he now looketh equally on thedeeds, and searcheth, with inscrutable knowledge, into, the hearts ofboth. This earth is his footstool; yonder heaven his throne! I pretend notto enter into his sacred mysteries, or to proclaim the reason why one-halfof his fair work hath been so long left in that slough of ignorance andheathenish abomination in which my fathers found it; why these hills neverbefore echoed the songs of praise or why the valleys have been so longmute. These are truths hid in the secret designs of his sacred purpose,and they may not be known, until the last fulfilment. But a great andrighteous spirit hath led hither men, filled with the love of truth andpregnant with the designs of a heavily-burthened faith, inasmuch as theirlongings are for things pure, while the consciousness of theirtransgressions bends them in deep humility to the dust. Thou bringestagainst us the charge of coveting thy lands, and of bearing minds filledwith the corruption of riches This cometh of ignorance of that which hathbeen abandoned, in order that the spirit of the godly might hold fast tothe truth. When the Yengeese came into this wilderness, he left behind himall that can delight the eye, please the senses, and feed the longing ofthe human heart, in the country of his fathers: for fair as is the work ofthe Lord in other lands, there is none that is so excellent as that fromwhich these pilgrims in the wilderness have departed. In that favoredisle, the earth groaneth with the abundance of its products; the odors ofits sweet savors salute the nostrils, and the eye is never wearied ingazing at its loveliness.--No: the men of the Pale-faces have desertedhome, and all that sweeteneth life, that they might serve God; and not atthe instigations of craving minds, or of evil vanities!"

Content paused, for as he grew warm with the spirit by which he wasanimated, he had insensibly strayed from the closer points of his subject.His conquerors maintained the decorous gravity with which an Indian alwayslistens to the speech of another, until he had ended; and then the GreatChief, or Wampanoag, as he had proclaimed himself to be, laid a fingerlightly on the shoulder of his prisoner, as he demanded--

"Why have the people of the Yengeese lost themselves on a blind path? Ifthe country they have left is pleasant, cannot their God hear then fromthe wigwams of their fathers? See--if our trees are but bushes, leave themto the red man he will find room beneath their branches to lie in theshade. If our rivers are small, it is because the Indians are little. Ifthe hills are low and the valleys narrow, the legs of my people are wearywith much hunting, and they will journey among them the easier. Now whatthe Great Spirit hath made for a red man, a red man should keep. Theywhose skins are like the light of the morning should go back towards therising sun, out of which they have come to do us wrong."

The chief spoke calmly, but it was like a man much accustomed to deal inthe subtleties of controversy, according to the fashion of the people towhom he belonged.

"God hath otherwise decreed," said Content. "He hath led his servantshither, that the incense of praise may arise from the wilderness."

"Your Spirit is a wicked Spirit. Your ears have been cheated. The counselthat told your young men to come so far, was not spoken in the voice ofthe Manitou. It came from the tongue of one that loves to see game scarce,and the squaws hungry. Go--you follow the mocker, or your hands would notbe so dark."

"I know not what injury may have been done the Wampanoags, by men ofwicked minds, for some such there are, even in the dwellings of thewell-disposed; but wrong to any hath never come from those that dwellwithin my doors. For these lands, a price hath been paid; and what is nowseen of abundance in the valley, hath been wrought by much labor. Thou arta Wampanoag, and dost know that the hunting-grounds of thy tribe have beenheld sacred by my people. Are not the fences standing, which their handsplaced, that not even the hoof of colt should trample the corn? and whenwas it known that the Indian came for justice against the trespassing ox,and did not find it?"

"The moose doth not taste the grass at the root; he liveth on the tree!He doth not stoop to feed on that which he treadeth under foot! Does thehawk look for the musketoe? His eye is too big. He can see a bird.Go--when the deer have been killed the Wampanoags will break down thefence with their own hands. The arm of a hungry man is strong. A cunningPale-face hath made that fence--it shutteth out the colt, and it shuttethin the Indian But the mind of a warrior is too big; it will not be keptat grass with the ox."

A low but expressive murmur of satisfaction from the mouths of his grimcompanions, succeeded the reply of the chief.

"The country of thy tribe is far distant," returned Content, "and I willnot lay untruth to my soul by presuming to say whether justice orinjustice hath been done them in the partition of the lands. But in thisvalley hath wrong never been done to the red man. What Indian hath askedfor food and not got it? If he hath been a-thirst, the cider came at hiswish; if he hath been a-cold, there was a seat by the hearth; and yet haththere been reason why the hatchet should be in my hand, and why my footshould be on the war-path! For many seasons we lived on lands, which werebought of both red and white man, in peace. But though the sun shone clearso long, the clouds came at last. There was a dark night fell upon thisvalley, Wampanoag, and death and the brand entered my dwelling, together.Our young men were killed, and----our spirits were sorely tried."

Content paused, for his voice became thick, and his eye had caught aglimpse of the pale and drooping countenance of her who leaned on the armof the still excited and frowning Mark for support. The young chieflistened with a charmed ear. As Content had proceeded, his body wasinclined a little forward, and his whole attitude was that which menunconsciously assume when intensely occupied in listening to sounds of thedeepest interest.

"But the sun rose again!" said the great chief pointing at the evidencesof prosperity which were everywhere apparent in the settlement, casting atthe same time an uneasy and suspicious glance at his youngest companion."The morning was clear, though the night was so dark. The cunning of aPale-face knows how to make corn grow on a rock. The foolish Indian eatsroots, when crops fail and is scarce."

"God ceased to be angry;" returned Content meekly, folding his arms in amanner to show he wished to speak no more.

The great chief was about to continue, when his younger associate laid afinger on his naked shoulder, and, by a sign, indicated that he wished tohold communication with him apart. The former met the request withrespect, though it might be discovered that he little liked the expressionof his companion's features, and that he yielded with reluctance, if notwith disgust. But the countenance of the youth was firm, and it would haveneeded more than usual hardihood to refuse a request seconded by so steadyand so meaning an eye. The elder spoke to the warrior nearest his elbow,addressing him by the name of Anna won, and then, by a gesture so naturaland so dignified that it might have graced the air of a courtier, heannounced his readiness to proceed. Notwithstanding the habitual reverenceof the aborigines for age, the others gave way for the passage of theyoung man, in a manner to proclaim that merit or birth, or both, hadunited to purchase for him a personal distinction, which far exceeded thatshown, in common, to men of his years. The two chiefs left the piazza inthe noiseless manner of the moccasoned foot.

The passage of these dignified warriors towards the grounds in the rear ofthe dwelling, as it was characteristic of their habits, is worthy of beingmentioned. Neither spoke, neither manifested any womanish impatience topry into the musings of the other's mind, and neither failed in thoseslight but still sensible courtesies by which the path was renderedcommodious and the footing sure. They had reached the summit of theelevation so often named, ere they believed themselves sufficientlyretired to indulge in a discourse which might otherwise have enlightenedprofane ears. When beneath the shade of the fragrant orchard which grew onthe hill, the senior of the two stopped, and throwing about him one ofthose quick, nearly imperceptible, and yet wary glances, by which anIndian understands his precise position, as it were by instinct, hecommenced the dialogue. The discourse was in the dialect of their race,but as it is not probable that many who read these pages would be muchenlightened were we to record it in the precise words in which it has beentransmitted to us, a translation into English, as freely as the subjectrequires, and the geniuses of the two languages will admit, shall beattempted.

"What would my brother have?" commenced he with the turbaned head,uttering the guttural sounds in the low, soothing tones of friendship, andeven of affection. "What troubles the Great Sachem of the Narragansetts?His thoughts seem uneasy. I think there is more before his eye, than onewhose sight is getting dim can see. Doth he behold the spirit of the braveMiantonimoh, who died, like a dog, beneath the blows of cowardly Pequotsand false-tongued Yengeese? Or does his heart swell, with longing, to seethe scalps of treacherous Pale-faces hanging at his belt? Speak, my son;the hatchet hath long been buried in the path between our villages, andthy words will enter the ears of friend."

"I do not see the spirit of my father," returned the young Sachem; "he isafar off, in the hunting-grounds of just warriors. My eyes are too weak tolook over so many mountains, and across so many rivers. He is chasing themoose in grounds where there are no briars; he needeth not the sight of ayoung man to tell him which way the trail leadeth. Why should I look atthe place where the Pequot and the Pale-face took his life? The fire whichscorched this hill hath blackened the spot, and I can no longer find themarks of blood."

"My son is very wise--cunning beyond his winters! That which hath beenonce revenged, is forgotten. He looks no further than six moons. He seesthe warriors of the Yengeese coming into his village, murdering his oldwomen, and slaying the Narragansett girls; killing his warriors frombehind, and lighting their fires with the bones of red men. I will nowstop my ears, for the groans of the slaughtered make my soul feel weak."

"Wampanoag," answered the other, with a fierce flashing of his eagle eye;and laying his hand firmly on his breast, "the night the snows were redwith the blood of my people, is here! my mind is dark: none of my racehave since looked upon the place where the lodges of the Narragansettsstood, and yet it hath never been hid from our sight. Since that time havewe travelled in the woods, bearing on our backs all that is left but oursorrow; that we carry in our hearts."

"Why is my brother troubled? There are many scalps among his people, andsee, his own tomahawk is very red! Let him quiet his anger till the nightcometh, and there will be a deeper stain on the axe. I know he is in ahurry, but our councils say it is better to wait for darkness, since thecunning of the Pale-faces is too strong for the hands of our young men."

"When was a Narragansett slow to leap, after the whoop was given; orunwilling to stay, when men of gray heads say 'tis better? I like yourcounsel; it is full of wisdom. Yet an Indian is but a man! Can he fightwith the God of the Yengeese? He is too weak. An Indian is but a man,though his skin be red!"

"I look into the clouds, at the trees, among the lodges," said the other,affecting to gaze curiously at the different objects he named, "but Icannot see the white Manitou. The pale-men were talking to him when weraised the whoop in their fields, and yet he has not heard them. Go--myson has struck their warriors with a strong hand; has he forgotten tocount how many dead lie among the trees with the sweet-smelling blossoms?"

"Metacom," returned he who has been called the Sachem of theNarragansetts, stepping cautiously nearer to his friend, and speakinglower, as if he feared an invisible auditor; "thou hast put hate into thebosoms of the red men, but canst thou make them more cunning than theSpirits? Hate is very strong, but cunning hath a longer arm. See," headded, raising the fingers of his two hands before the eyes of hisattentive companion, "ten snows have come and melted, since there stood alodge of the Pale-faces on this hill. Conanchet was then a boy. His handhad struck nothing but deer. His heart was full of wishes. By day hethought of Pequot scalps, at night he heard the dying words ofMiantonimoh. Though slain by cowardly Pequots and lying Yengeese, hisfather came with the night into his wigwam, to talk to his son. 'Does thechild of so many great Sachems grow big?' would he say; 'is his armgetting strong, his foot light, his eye quick, his heart valiant? WillConanchet be like his fathers?--when will the young Sachem of theNarragansetts become a man?' Why should I tell my brother of these visits?Metacom hath often seen the long line of Wampanoag Chiefs, in his sleep?The brave Sachems sometimes enter into the heart of their son?"

The lofty-minded, though wily Philip struck his hand heavily upon hisnaked breast, as he answered--

"They are always here. Metacom has no soul but the spirit of his fathers!"

"When he was tired of silence, the murdered Miantonimoh spoke aloud,"continued Conanchet, after permitting the customary courteous pause tosucceed the emphatic words of his companion. "He bade his son arise, andgo among the Yengeese, that he might return with scalps to hang in hiswigwam; for the eyes of the dead chief liked not to see the place soempty. The voice of Conanchet was then too feeble for the council-fire; hesaid nothing--he went alone. An evil spirit gave him into the hands of thePale-faces. He was a captive many moons. They shut him in a cage, like atamed panther! It was here. The news of his ill-luck passed from themouths of the young men of the Yengeese, to the hunters; and from thehunters it came to the ears of the Narragansetts. My people had lost theirSachem, and they came to seek him. Metacom, the boy had felt the power ofthe God of the Yengeese! His mind began to grow weak; he thought less ofrevenge; the spirit of his father came no more at night. There was muchtalking with the unknown God, and the words of his enemies were kind. Hehunted with them. When he met the trail of his warriors in the woods, hismind was troubled, for he knew their errand. Still he saw his father'sspirit, and waited. The whoop was heard that night; many died, and theNarragansetts took scalps. Thou seest this lodge of stone, over which firehas passed. There was then a cunning place above, and in it the pale-menwent to fight for their lives. But the fire kindled, and then there was nohope. The soul of Conanchet was moved at that sight, for there was muchhonesty in them within. Though their skins were so white, they had notslain his father. But the flames would not be spoken to, and the placebecame like the coals of a deserted council-fire. All within were turnedto ashes. If the spirit of Miantonimoh rejoiced, it was well; but the soulof his son was very heavy. The weakness was on him, and he no longerthought of boasting of his deeds at the war-post."

"That fire scorched the stain of blood from the Sachem's plain?"

"It did. Since that time I have not seen the marks of my father's blood.Gray heads and boys were in that fire, and when the timbers fell,nothing was left but coals. Yet do they, who were in the blazing lodge,stand there!"

The attentive Metacom started, and glanced a hasty look at the ruin.

"Does my son see spirits in the air?" he asked hastily.

"No, they live; they are bound for the torments. In the white head, is hewho talked much with his God. The elder chief, who struck our young men sohard, was then also a captive in this lodge. He who spoke, and she, whoseems even paler than her race, died that night; and yet are they nowhere! Even the brave youth, that was so hard to conquer, looks like a boythat was in the fire! The Yengeese deal with unknown Gods; they are toocunning for an Indian!"

Philip heard this strange tale, as a being educated in superstitiouslegends would be apt to listen; and yet it was with a leaning toincredulity, that was generated by his fierce and indomitable desire forthe destruction of the hated race. He had prevailed, in the councils ofhis nation, over many similar signs of the supernatural agency that wasexercised in favor of his enemies, but never before had facts so imposingcome so directly and from so high a source before his mind. Even the proudresolution and far-sighted wisdom of this sagacious chief were shaken bysuch testimony, and there was a single moment when the idea of abandoninga league that seemed desperate took possession of his brain. But true toHimself and his cause, second thoughts and a firmer purpose restored hisresolution, though they could not remove the perplexity of his doubts.

"What does Conanchet wish?" he said. "Twice have his warriors broke intothis valley, and twice have the tomahawks of his young men been redderthan the head of the woodpecker. The fire was not good fire; the tomahawkwill kill surer. Had not the voice of my brother said to his young men,'let the scalps of the prisoners alone,' he could not now say 'yet do theynow stand here!'"

"My mind is troubled, friend of my father. Let them be questioned,artfully, that the truth be known."

Metacom mused an instant; then smiling, in a friendly manner, on his youngand much moved companion, he made a sign to a youth who was straying aboutthe fields, to approach. This young warrior was made the bearer of anorder to lead the captives to the hill, after which the two chiefs stalkedto and fro in silence, each brooding over what had passed, in a humor thatwas suited to his particular character and more familiar feelings.

No wither'd witch shall here be seen,
No goblins lead their nightly crew;
The female fays shall haunt the green,
And dress thy grave with pearly dew.

Collins.

It is rare indeed that the philosophy of a dignified Indian is so fardisturbed, as to destroy the appearance of equanimity. When Content andthe family of the Heathcotes appeared on the hill, they found the chiefsstill pacing the orchard, with the outward composure of men unmoved, andwith the gravity that was suited to their rank. Annawon, who had acted astheir conductor, caused the captives to be placed in a row, choosing thefoot of the ruin for their position, and then he patiently awaited themoment when his superiors might be pleased to renew the examination. Inthis habitual silence, there was nothing of the abject air of Asiaticdeference. It proceeded from the habit of self-command, which taught theIndian to repress all natural emotions. A very similar effect was producedby the religious abasement of those whom fortune had now thrown into theirpower. It would have been a curious study, for one interested in themanners of the human species, to note the difference between the calm,physical, and perfect self-possession of the wild tenants of the forest,and the ascetic, spiritually sustained, and yet meek submission toProvidence, that was exhibited by most of the prisoners. We say of most,for there was an exception. The brow of young Mark still retained itsfrown, and the angry character of his eye was only lost, when by chanceit lighted on the drooping form and pallid features of his mother. Therewas ample time for these several and peculiar qualities to be thussilently exhibited, many minutes passing before either of the Sachemsseemed inclined to re-commence the conference. At length Philip, orMetacom, as we shall indifferently call him, drew near and spoke.

"This earth is a good earth," he said; "it is of many colors, to pleasethe eyes of him who made it. In one part it is dark, and as the wormtaketh the color of the leaf on which he crawls, there the hunters areblack; in another part it is white, and that is the part where pale-menwere born, and where they should die; or they may miss the road whichleads to their happy hunting-grounds. Many just warriors, who have beenkilled on distant war-paths, still wander in the woods, because the trailis hid, and their sight dim. It is not good to trust so much to thecunning of--"

"Wretched and blind worshipper of Apollyon!" interrupted the Puritan, "weare not of the idolatrous and foolish-minded! It hath been accorded to usto know the Lord; to his chosen worshippers, all regions are alike. Thespirit can mount, equally, through snows and whirlwinds; the tempest andthe calm; from the lands of the sun, and the lands of frosts; from thedepths of the ocean, from fire, from the forest--"

He was interrupted, in his turn. At the word fire, the finger of Metacomfell meaningly on his shoulder; and when he had ceased, for until then noIndian would have spoken, the other gravely asked--

"And when a man of a pale skin hath gone up in the fire, can he againwalk upon earth? Is the river between this clearing and the pleasantfields of a Yengeese so narrow, that the just men can step across it whenthey please?"

"This is the conceit of one wallowing in the slough of heathenishabominations! Child of ignorance! know that the barriers which separateheaven from earth are impassable; for what purified being could endure thewickedness of the flesh?"

"This is a lie of the false Pale-faces," said the wily Philip; "it is toldthat the Indian might not learn their cunning, and become stronger than aYengeese. My father, and those with him, were once burnt in this lodge,and now he standeth here, ready to take the tomahawk!"

"To be angered at this blasphemy, would ill denote the pity that I feel,"said Mark, more excited at the charge of necromancy, than he was willingto own; "and yet to-suffer so fatal an error to spread among these deludedvictims of Satan, would be neglect of duty. Thou hast heard some legend ofthy wild people, man of the Wampanoags, which may heap double perdition onthy soul, lest thou shouldst happily be rescued from the fangs of thedeceiver. It is true, that I and mine were in exceeding jeopardy in thistower, and that to the eyes of men without we seemed melted with the heatof the flames; but the Lord put it into our spirits to seek refuge whitherfire could not come. The well was made the instrument of our safety, forthe fulfilment of his own inscrutable designs."

Notwithstanding the long practised and exceeding subtlety of thelisteners, they heard this simple explanation of that which they haddeemed a miracle, with a wonder that could not readily be concealed.Delight at the excellence of the artifice was evidently the first andcommon emotion of them both; nor would they yield implicit faith, untilassured, beyond a doubt, that what they heard was true. The little irondoor, which had permitted access to the well, for the ordinary domesticpurposes of the family, was still there; and it was only after each hadcast a look down the deep shaft, that he appeared satisfied of thepracticability of the deed. Then a look of triumph gleamed in the swarthyvisage of Philip, while the features of his associate expressed equallyhis satisfaction and his regret. They walked apart, musing on what theyhad just seen and heard; and when they spoke, it was again in the languageof their people.

"My son hath a tongue that cannot lie," observed Metacom, in a soothing,flattering accent. "What he hath seen, he tells; and what he tells, istrue. Conanchet is not a boy, but a chief whose wisdom is gray, while hislimbs are young. Now, why shall not his people take the scalps of theseYengeese, that they may never go any more into holes in the earth, likecunning foxes?"

"The Sachem hath a very bloody mind," returned the young chief, quickerthan was common for men of his station. "Let the arms of the warriorsrest, till they meet the armed hands of the Yengeese, or they will be tootired to strike heavily. My young men have taken scalps, since the suncame over the trees, and they are satisfied--Why does Metacom look sohard? What does my father see?"

"A dark spot in the middle of a white plain. The grass is not green; it isred as blood. It is too dark for the blood of a Pale-face. It is the richblood of a great warrior. The rains cannot wash it out; it grows darkerevery sun. The snows do not whiten it; it hath been there many winters.The birds scream as they fly over it; the wolf howls; the lizards creepanother way."

"Thine eyes are getting old; fire hath blackened the place, and what thouseest is coal."

"The fire was kindled in a well; it did not burn bright. What I see,is blood."

"Wampanoag," rejoined Conanchet, fiercely, "I have scorched the spot withthe lodges of the Yengeese. The grave of my father is covered with scalpstaken by the hand of his son--Why does Metacom look again? What does thechief see?"

"An Indian town burning in the midst of the snow; the young men struckfrom behind; the girls screaming; the children broiling on coals, andthe old men dying like dogs! It is the village of the cowardlyPequots--No, I see better; the Yengeese are in the country of the GreatNarragansett, and the brave Sachem is there, fighting! I shut my eyes,for smoke blinds them!"

Conanchet heard this allusion to the recent and deplorable fate of theprincipal establishment of his tribe, in sullen silence; for the desire ofrevenge, which had been so fearfully awakened, seemed now to beslumbering, if it were not entirely quelled by the agency of somemysterious and potent feeling. He rolled his eyes gloomily, from theapparently abstracted countenance of his artful companion, to those of thecaptives, whose fate only awaited his judgment, since the band which hadthat morning broken in upon the Wish-Ton-Wish was, with but fewexceptions, composed of the surviving warriors of his own powerful nation.But, while his look was displeased, faculties that were schooled sohighly, could not easily be mistaken, in what passed, even in the mostcursory manner, before his sight.

"What sees my father, next?" he asked, with an interest he could notcontrol, detecting another change in the features of Metacom.

"One who is neither white nor red. A young woman, that boundeth like askipping fawn; who hath lived in a wigwam, doing nothing; who speaks withtwo tongues; who holds her hands before the eyes of a great warrior, tillhe is blind as the owl in the sun--I see her--"

Metacom paused, for at that moment a being that singularly resembled thisdescription appeared before him, offering the reality of the imaginarypicture he was drawing with so much irony and art.

The movement of the timid hare is scarce more hurried, or more undecided,than that of the creature who now suddenly presented herself to thewarriors. It was apparent, by the hesitating and half-retreating step thatsucceeded the light bound with which she came in view, that she dreaded toadvance, while she knew not how far it might be proper to retire. For thefirst moment, she stood in a suspended and doubting posture, such as onemight suppose a creature of mist would assume ere it vanished, and thenmeeting the eye of Conanchet, the uplifted foot retouched the earth, andher whole form sunk into the modest and shrinking attitude of an Indiangirl, who stood in the presence of a Sachem of her tribe. As this femaleis to enact no mean part in that which follows, the reader may be thankfulfor a more minute description of her person.

The age of the stranger was under twenty. In form she rose above the usualstature of an Indian maid, though the proportions of her person were aslight and buoyant as at all comported with the fullness that properlybelonged to her years. The limbs, seen below the folds of a short kirtleof bright scarlet cloth, were just and tapering, even to the nicestproportions of classic beauty; and never did foot of higher instep, andsofter roundness, grace a feathered moccason. Though the person, from theneck to the knees, was hid by a tightly-fitting vest of calico and theshort kirtle named, enough of the shape was visible to betray outlinesthat had never been injured, either by the mistaken devices of art or bythe baneful effects of toil. The skin was only visible at the hands, face,and neck. Its lustre having been a little dimmed by exposure, a rich, rosytint had usurped the natural brightness of a complexion that had oncebeen fair even to brilliancy. The eye was full, sweet, and of a blue thatemulated the sky of evening; the brows, soft and arched; the nose,straight, delicate, and slightly Grecian; the forehead, fuller than thatwhich properly belonged to a girl of the Narragansetts, but regular,delicate, and polished; and the hair, instead of dropping in long straighttresses of jet black, broke out of the restraints of a band of beadedwampum, in ringlets of golden yellow.

The peculiarities that distinguished this female from the others of hertribe, were not confined alone to the indelible marks of nature. Her stepwas more elastic; her gait more erect and graceful; her foot less inwardlyinclined, and her whole movements freer and more decided than those of arace doomed from infancy to subjection and labor. Though ornamented bysome of the prized inventions of the hated race to which she evidentlyowed her birth, she had the wild and timid look of those with whom she hadgrown into womanhood. Her beauty would have been remarkable in any regionof the earth, while the play of muscle, the ingenuous beaming of the eye,and the freedom of limb and action, were such as seldom pass beyond theyears of childhood, among people who, in attempting to improve, so oftenmar the works of nature.

Although the color of the eye was so very different from that whichgenerally belongs to one of Indian origin, the manner of its quick andsearching glance, and of the half-alarmed and yet understanding look withwhich this extraordinary creature made herself mistress of the moregeneral character of the assemblage before which she had been summoned,was like the half-instinctive knowledge of one accustomed to the constantand keenest exercise of her faculties. Pointing with a finger towardsWhittal Ring, who stood a little in the background, a low, sweet voice washeard asking, in the language of the Indians--

"Why has Conanchet sent for his woman from the woods?"

The young Sachem made no reply; an ordinary spectator could not havedetected about him even a consciousness of the speaker's presence. On thecontrary, he maintained the lofty reserve of a chief engaged in affairs ofmoment. However deeply his thoughts might have been troubled, it was noteasy to trace any evidence of the state of his mind in the calmness offeatures that appeared habitually immovable. For a single treacherousinstant, only, was a glance of kindness shot towards the timid andattentive girl, and then throwing the still bloody tomahawk into thehollow of one arm, while the hand of the other firmly grasped its handle,he remained unchanged in feature, as he was rigid in limb. Not so, withPhilip. When the intruder first appeared, a dark and lowering gleam ofdiscontent gathered at his brow. It quickly changed to a look of sarcasticand biting scorn.

"Does my brother again wish to know what I see?" he demanded, whensufficient time had passed, after the unanswered question of the female,to show that his companion was not disposed to answer.

"What does the Sachem of the Wampanoags now behold?" returned Conanchet,proudly; unwilling to show that any circumstance had occurred to interruptthe subject of their conference.

"A sight that his eyes will not believe. He sees a great tribe on thewar-path. There are many braves, and a chief whose fathers came from theclouds. Their hands are in the air; they strike heavy blows; the arrow isswift, and the bullet is not seen to enter, but it kills. Blood runs fromthe wounds that is of the color of water. Now he does not see, but hehears! 'Tis the scalp-whoop, and the warriors are very glad. The chiefs inthe happy hunting-grounds are coming, with joy, to meet Indians that arekilled; for they know the scalp-whoop of their children."

The expressive countenance of the young Sachem involuntarily responded tothis description of the scene through which he had just passed; and it wasimpossible for one so tutored, to prevent the blood from rushing faster toa heart that ever beat strongly with the wishes of a warrior.

"What sees my father, next?" he asked, triumph insensibly stealing intothe tones of his voice.

"A Messenger--and then he hears--the moccasons of squaws!"

"Enough;--Metacom, the women of the Narragansetts have no lodges. Theirvillages are in coals, and they follow the young men for food."

"I see no deer. The hunter will not find venison in a clearing of thePale-faces. But the corn is full of milk; Conanchet is very hungry; hehath sent for his woman, that he may eat!"

The fingers of that hand, which grasped the handle of the tomahawk,appeared to bury themselves in the wood; the glittering axe itself wasslightly raised; but the fierce gleaming of resentment subsided, as theanger of the young Sachem vanished, and a dignified calm again settled onhis countenance.

"Go, Wampanoag," he said, waving a hand proudly, as if determined to be nolonger harassed by the language of his wily associate. "My young men willraise the whoop, when they hear my voice; and they will kill deer fortheir women. Sachem, my mind is my own."

Philip answered to the look which accompanied these words, with one thatthreatened vengeance; but smothering his anger, with his accustomedwisdom, he left the hill, assuming an air that affected more ofcommiseration than of resentment.

"Why has Conanchet sent for a woman from the woods?" repeated the samesoft voice, nearer to the elbow of the young Sachem, and which spoke withless of the timidity of the sex, now that the troubled spirit of theIndians of those regions had disappeared.

"Narra-mattah, come near;" returned the young chief, changing the deep andproud tones in which he had addressed his restless and bold companion inarms, to those which better suited the gentle ear for which his words wereintended. "Fear not, daughter of the morning, for those around us are of arace used to see women at the council-fires. Now look, with an openeye--is there anything among these trees that seemeth like an ancienttradition? Hast ever beheld such a valley, in thy dreams? Have yonderPale-faces, whom the tomahawks of my young men spared, been led beforethee by the Great Spirit, in the dark night?"

The female listened, in deep attention. Her gaze was wild and uncertain,and yet it was not absolutely without gleamings of a half-revivingintelligence. Until that moment, she had been too much occupied inconjecturing the subject of her visit, to regard the natural objects bywhich she was surrounded: but with her attention thus directly turned uponthem, her organs of sight embraced each and all, with the discriminationthat is so remarkable in those whose faculties are quickened by danger andnecessity. Passing from side to side, her swift glances ran over thedistant hamlet, with its little fort; the buildings in the near grounds;the soft and verdant fields; the fragrant orchard, beneath whose leafyshades she stood, and the blackened tower, that rose in its centre, likesome gloomy memorial, placed there to remind the spectator not to trusttoo fondly to the signs of peace and loveliness that reigned around.Shaking back the ringlets that had blown about her temples, the wonderingfemale returned thoughtfully and in silence to her place.

"'Tis a village of the Yengeese!" she said, after a long and expressivepause. "A Narragansett woman does not love to look at the lodges of thehated race."

"Listen.--Lies have never entered the ears of Narra-mattah. My tongue hathspoken like the tongue of a chief. Thou didst not come of the sumach, butof the snow. This hand of thine is not like the hands of the women of mytribe; it is little, for the Great Spirit did not make it for work; it isof the color of the sky in the morning, for thy fathers were born near theplace where the sun rises. Thy blood is like spring-water. All this thouknowest, for none have spoken false in thy ear. Speak--dost thou never seethe wigwam of thy father? Does not his voice whisper to thee, in thelanguage of his people?"

The female stood in the attitude which a sibyl might be supposed toassume, while listening to the occult mandates of the mysterious oracle,every faculty entranced and attentive.

"Why does Conanchet ask these questions of his wife? He knows what sheknows; he sees what she sees; his mind is her mind. If the Great Spiritmade her skin of a different color, he made her heart the same.Narra-mattah will not listen to the lying language; she shuts her ears,for there is deceit in its sounds. She tries to forget it. One tongue cansay all she wishes to speak to Conanchet; why should she look back indreams, when a great chief is her husband?"

The eye of the warrior, as he looked upon the ingenuous and confiding faceof the speaker, was kind to fondness. The firmness had passed away and inits place was left the winning softness of affection, which, as it belongsto nature, is seen, at times, in the expression of an Indian's eye, asstrongly as it is ever known to sweeten the intercourse of a more polishedcondition of life.

"Girl," he said with emphasis, after a moment of thought, as if he wouldrecall her and himself to more important duties, "this is a war-path; allon it are men. Thou wast like the pigeon before its wing opens, when Ibrought thee from the nest; still the winds of many winters had blown uponthee. Dost never think of the warmth and of the food of the lodge in whichthou hast past so many seasons?"

"The wigwam of Conanchet is warm; no woman of the tribe hath as many fursas Narra-mattah."

"He is a great hunter! when they hear his moccason, the beavers lie downto be killed! But the men of the Pale-faces hold the plow. Does not 'thedriven snow' think of those who fenced the wigwam of her father from thecold, or of the manner in which the Yengeese live?"

His youthful and attentive wife seemed to reflect; but raising her face,with an expression of content that could not be counterfeited, she shookher head in the negative.

"Does she never see a fire kindled among the lodges, or hear the whoops ofwarriors as they break into a settlement?"

"Many fires have been kindled before her eyes. The ashes of theNarragansett town are not yet cold."

"Does not Narra-mattah hear her father speaking to the God of theYengeese? Listen--he is asking favor for his child!"

"The Great Spirit of the Narragansett has ears for his people."

"But I hear a softer voice! 'Tis a woman of the Pale-faces among herchildren: cannot the daughter hear?"

Narra-mattah, or 'the driven snow,' laid her hand lightly on the arm ofthe chief, and she looked wistfully and long into his face, without ananswer. The gaze seemed to deprecate the anger that might be awakened bywhat she was about to reveal.

"Chief of my people," she said, encouraged by his still calm and gentlebrow, to proceed, "what a girl of the clearings sees in her dreams, shallnot be hid. It is not the lodges of her race, for the wigwam of herhusband is warmer. It is not the food and clothes of a cunning people, forwho is richer than the wife of a great chief? It is not her fathersspeaking to their Spirit, for there is none stronger than Manitou.Narra-mattah has forgotten all: she does not wish to think of things likethese. She knows how to hate a hungry and craving race. But she sees onethat the wives of the Narragansetts do not see. She sees a woman with awhite skin; her eye looks softly on her child in her dreams; it is not aneye, it is a tongue! It says, what does the wife of Conanchet wish?--isshe cold? here are furs--is she hungry? here is venison--is she tired? thearms of the pale woman open, that an Indian girl may sleep. When there issilence in the lodges, when Conanchet and his young men lie down, thendoes this pale woman speak. Sachem, she does not talk of the battles ofher people, nor of the scalps that her warriors have taken, nor of themanner in which the Pequots and Mohicans fear her tribe. She does not tellhow a young Narragansett should obey her husband, nor how the women mustkeep food in the lodges for the hunters that are wearied; her tongue usethstrange words. It names a Mighty and Just Spirit it telleth of peace, andnot of war; it soundeth as one talking from the clouds; it is like thefalling of the water among rocks. Narra-mattah loves to listen, for thewords seem to her like the Wish-Ton-Wish, when he whistles in the woods."

Conanchet had fastened a look of deep and affectionate interest on thewild and sweet countenance of the being who stood before him. She hadspoken in that attitude of earnest and natural eloquence that no art canequal; and when she ceased, he laid a hand, in kind but melancholyfondness, on the half-inclined and motionless head, as he answered.

"This is the bird of night, singing to its young! The Great Spirit ofthy fathers is angry, that thou livest in the lodge of a Narragansett.His sight is too cunning to be cheated. He knows that the moccason, andthe wampum, and the robe of fur are liars; he sees the color of theskin beneath."

"Conanchet, no;" returned the female hurriedly, and with a decision hertimidity did not give reason to expect. "He seeth farther than the skin,and knoweth the color of the mind. He hath forgotten that one of his girlsis missing."

"It is not so. The eagle of my people was taken into the lodges of thePale-faces. He was young, and they taught him to sing with another tongue.The colors of his feathers were changed, and they thought to cheat theManitou. But when the door was open, he spread his wings and flew back tohis nest. It is not so. What hath been done is good and what will be doneis better. Come; there is a straight path before us."

Thus saying, Conanchet motioned to his wife to follow towards the group ofcaptives. The foregoing dialogue had occurred in a place where the twoparties were partially concealed from each other by the ruin; but as thedistance was so trifling, the Sachem and his companion were soonconfronted with those he sought. Leaving his wife a little without thecircle, Conanchet advanced, and taking the unresisting andhalf-unconscious Ruth by the arm, he led her forward. He placed the twofemales in attitudes where each might look the other full in the face.Strong emotion struggled in a countenance which, in spite of its fiercemask of war-paint, could not entirely conceal its workings.

"See," he said in English, looking earnestly from one to the other. "TheGood Spirit is not ashamed of his work. What he hath done, he hath done;Narragansett nor Yengeese can alter it. This is the white bird that camefrom the sea," he added, touching the shoulder of Ruth lightly with afinger, "and this the young, that she warmed under her wing."

Then, folding his arms on his naked breast, he appeared to summon hisenergy, lest, in the scene that he knew must follow, his manhood might bebetrayed into some act unworthy of his name.

The captives were necessarily ignorant of the meaning of the scene whichthey had just witnessed. So many strange and savage-looking forms wereconstantly passing and repassing before their eyes, that the arrival ofone, more or less, was not likely to be noted. Until she heard Conanchetspeak in her native tongue, Ruth had lent no attention to the interviewbetween him and his wife. But the figurative language and no lessremarkable action of the Narragansett, had the effect to arouse hersuddenly, and in the most exciting manner, from her melancholy.

No child of tender age ever unexpectedly came before the eyes of RuthHeathcote, without painfully recalling the image of the cherub she hadlost. The playful voice of infancy never surprised her ear, without thesound conveying a pang to the heart; nor could allusion, ever so remote,be made to persons or events that bore resemblance to the sad incidentsof her own life, without quickening the never-dying pulses of maternallove. No wonder, then, that when she found herself in the situation andunder the circumstances described, nature grew strong within her, and thather mind caught glimpses, however dim and indistinct they might be, of atruth that the reader has already anticipated. Still, a certain andintelligible clue was wanting. Fancy had ever painted her child in theinnocence and infancy in which it had been torn from her arms; and here,while there was so much to correspond with reasonable expectation, therewas little to answer to the long and fondly-cherished picture. Thedelusion, if so holy and natural a feeling may thus be termed, had beentoo deeply seated to be dispossessed at a glance. Gazing long, earnestly,and with features that varied with every changing feeling, she held thestranger at the length of her two arms, alike unwilling to release herhold, or to admit her closer to a heart which might rightfully be theproperty of another.

"Who art thou?" demanded the mother, in a voice that was tremulous withthe emotions of that sacred character. "Speak, mysterious and lovelybeing--who art thou?"

Narra-mattah had turned a terrified and imploring look at the immovableand calm form of the chief, as if she sought protection from him at whosehands she had been accustomed to receive it. But a different sensationtook possession of her mind, when she heard sounds which had too oftensoothed the ear of infancy, ever to be forgotten. Struggling ceased, andher pliant form assumed the attitude of intense and entranced attention.Her head was bent aside, as if the ear were eager to drink in a repetitionof the tones, while her bewildered and delighted eye still sought thecountenance of her husband.

"Vision of the woods!--wilt thou not answer?" continued Ruth. "If thereis reverence for the Holy One of Israel in thine heart, answer, that I mayknow thee!"

"Hist! Conanchet!" murmured the wife, over whose features the glow ofpleased and wild surprise continued to deepen. "Come near, Sachem, theSpirit that talketh to Narra-mattah in her dreams, is nigh."

"Woman of the Yengeese!" said the husband advancing with dignity to thespot, "let the clouds blow from thy sight. Wife of a Narragansett! seeclearly. The Manitou of your race speaks strong. He telleth a mother toknow her child!"

Ruth could hesitate no longer; neither sound nor exclamation escaped her,but as she strained the yielding frame of her recovered daughter to herheart, it appeared as if she strove to incorporate the two bodies intoone. A cry of pleasure and astonishment drew all around her. Then came theevidence of the power of nature when strongly awakened. Age and youthalike acknowledged its potency, and recent alarms were overlooked in thepure joy of such a moment. The spirit of even the lofty-minded Conanchetwas shaken. Raising the hand, at whose wrist still hung the bloodytomahawk, he veiled his face, and, turning aside, that none might see theweakness of so great a warrior, he wept.

"One sees more devils than vast hell can hold;
That is, the madman:--"

Midsummer-Night's Dream.

On quitting the hill, Philip had summoned his Wampanoags, and, supportedby the obedient and fierce Annawon, a savage that might, under betterauspices, have proved a worthy lieutenant to Cæsar, he left the fields ofWish-Ton-Wish. Accustomed to see these sudden outbreakings of temper intheir leaders, the followers of Conanchet, who would have preserved theirair of composure under far more trying circumstances, saw him depart,equally without question and without alarm. But when their own Sachemappeared on the ground which was still red with the blood of thecombatants, and made known his intention to abandon a conquest that seemedmore than half achieved, he was not heard without murmuring. The authorityof an Indian Chief is far from despotic, and though there is reason tothink it is often aided, if not generated, by the accidental causes ofbirth and descent, it receives its main support in the personal qualitiesof him who rules. Happily for the Narragansett leader, even his renownedfather, the hapless Miantonimoh, had not purchased a higher name forwisdom, or for daring, than that which had been fairly won by his stillyouthful son. The savage humors and the rankling desire for vengeance inthe boldest of his subalterns, were made to quail before the menacingglances of an eye that seldom threatened without performance; nor wasthere one of them all, when challenged to come forth to brave the angeror to oppose the eloquence of his chief, who did not shrink from a contestwhich habitual respect had taught them to believe would be far too unequalfor success. Within less than an hour after Ruth had clasped her child toher bosom the invaders had altogether disappeared. The dead of their partywere withdrawn and concealed, with all the usual care, in order that noscalp of a warrior might be left in the hands of his enemies.

It was not unusual for the Indians to retire satisfied with the results oftheir first blow. So much of their military success was dependent onsurprise, that it oftener happened the retreat commenced with its failure,than that victory was obtained by perseverance.

So long as the battle raged, their courage was equal to all its dangers;but among people who made so great a merit of artifice, it is not at allsurprising that they seldom put more to the hazard than was justified bythe most severe discretion. When it was known, therefore, that the foe haddisappeared in the forest, the inhabitants of the village were more readyto believe the movement was the result of their own manful resistance,than to seek motives that might not prove so soothing to theirself-esteem. The retreat was thought to be quite in rule, and thoughprudence forbade pursuit, able and well-limbed scouts were sent on theirtrail, as well to prevent a renewal of the surprise, as to enable theforces of the Colony to know the tribe of their enemies, and the directionwhich they had taken.

Then came a scene of solemn ceremonies and of deep affliction. Though theparties led by Dudley and the Lieutenant had been so fortunate as toescape with a few immaterial wounds, the soldiers headed by Content, withthe exception of those already named, had fallen to a man. Death hadstruck, at a blow, twenty of the most efficient individuals, out of thatisolated and simple community. Under circumstances in which victory was sobarren and so dearly bought, sorrow was a feeling far stronger thanrejoicing. Exultation took the aspect of humility, and while men wereconscious of their well-deserving, they were the more sensible of theirdependence on a power they could neither influence nor comprehend. Thecharacteristic opinions of the religionists became still more exalted, andthe close of the day was quite as remarkable for an exhibition of thepeculiarly exaggerated impressions of the Colonists, as its opening hadbeen frightful in violence and blood.

When one of the more active of the runners returned with the news that theIndians had retired through the forest with a broad trail, a sure signthat they meditated no further concealment near the valley, and that theyhad already been traced many miles on their retreat, the villagersreturned to their usual habitations. The dead were then distributed amongthose who claimed the nearest right to the performance of the last dutiesof affection; and it might have been truly said, that mourning had takenup its abode in nearly every dwelling. The ties of blood were so generalin a society thus limited, and, where they failed, the charities of lifewere so intimate and so natural, that not an individual of them allescaped, without feeling that the events of the day had robbed him, forever, of some one on whom he was partially dependent for comfort orhappiness.

As the day drew towards its close, the little bell again summoned thecongregation to the church. On this solemn occasion, but few of those whostill lived to hear its sounds were absent. The moment when Meek arose forprayer was one of general and intense feeling. The places so latelyoccupied by those who had fallen were now empty, and they resembled somany eloquent blanks in the description of what had passed, expressing farmore than any language could impart. The appeal of the divine was in hisusual strain of sublimated piety, mysterious insights into the hiddenpurposes of Providence being strangely blended with the more intelligiblewants and passions of man. While he gave Heaven the glory of the victory,he spoke with a lofty and pretending humility of the instruments of itspower; and although seemingly willing to acknowledge that his peopleabundantly deserved the heavy blow which had alighted on them, there wasan evident impatience of the agents by which it had been inflicted. Theprinciples of the sectarian were so singularly qualified by the feelingsof the borderer, that one subtle in argument would have found littledifficulty in detecting flaws in the reasoning of this zealot; but as somuch was obscured by metaphysical mists, and so much was left for thegeneralities of doctrine, his hearers, without an exception, made such anapplication of what he uttered, as apparently rendered every mindsatisfied.

The sermon was as extemporaneous as the prayer, if any thing can comeextempore from a mind so drilled and fortified in opinion. It containedmuch the same matter, delivered a little less in the form of anapostrophe. The stricken congregation, while they were encouraged with thebelief that they were vessels set apart for some great and glorious end ofProvidence, were plainly told that they merited far heavier afflictionthan this which had now befallen; and they were reminded that it was theirduty to desire even condemnation, that he who framed the heavens and theearth might be glorified! Then they heard comfortable conclusions, whichmight reasonably teach them to expect, that though in the abstract suchwere the obligations of the real Christian, there was good reason to thinkthat all who listened to doctrines so pure would be remembered with anespecial favor.

So useful a servant of the temple as Meek Wolfe did not forget thepractical application of his subject. It is true, that no visible emblemof the cross was shown to excite his hearers, nor were they stimulated toloosen blood-hounds on the trail of their enemies; but the former was keptsufficiently before the mind's eye by constant allusions to its merits,and the Indians were pointed at as the instruments by which the greatfather of evil hoped to prevent 'the wilderness from blossoming like therose,' and 'yielding the sweet savors of godliness.' Philip and Conanchetwere openly denounced, by name; some dark insinuations being made, thatthe person of the former was no more than the favorite tenement of Moloch;while the hearer was left to devise a suitable spirit for the governmentof the physical powers of the other, from among any of the more evilagencies that were named in the Bible. Any doubts of the lawfulness of thecontest, that might assail tender consciences, were brushed away by a boldand decided hand. There was no attempt at justification, however; for alldifficulties of this nature were resolved by the imperative obligations ofduty. A few ingenious allusions to the manner in which the Israelitesdispossessed the occupants of Judea, were of great service in thisparticular part of the subject, since it was not difficult to convincemen, who so strongly felt the impulses of religious excitement, that theywere stimulated rightfully. Fortified by this advantage, Mr. Wolfemanifested no desire to avoid the main question. He affirmed that if theempire of the true faith could be established by no other means, acircumstance which he assumed it was sufficiently apparent to allunderstandings could not be done, he pronounced it the duty of young andold, the weak and the strong, to unite in assisting to visit the formerpossessors of the country with what he termed the wrath of an offendedDeity. He spoke of the fearful slaughter of the preceding winter, in whichneither years nor sex had been spared, as a triumph of the righteouscause, and as an encouragement to persevere. Then, by a transition thatwas not extraordinary in an age so remarkable for religious subtleties,Meek returned to the more mild and obvious truths which pervade thedoctrines of him whose church he professed to uphold. His hearers wereadmonished to observe lives of humility and charity, and were piouslydismissed, with his benediction, to their several homes.

The congregation quitted the building with the feelings of men who thoughtthemselves favored by peculiar and extraordinary intelligences with theauthor of all truth, while the army of Mahomet itself was scarcely lessinfluenced by fanaticism than these blinded zealots. There was somethingso grateful to human frailty in reconciling their resentments and theirtemporal interests to their religious duties, that it should excite littlewonder when we add that most of them were fully prepared to becomeministers of vengeance in the hands of any bold leader. While theinhabitants of the settlement were thus struggling between passions socontradictory, the shades of evening gradually fell upon their village,and then came darkness, with the rapid strides with which it follows thesetting of the sun in a low latitude.

Some time before the shadows of the trees were getting the grotesque andexaggerated forms which precede the last rays of the luminary, and whilethe people were still listening to their pastor, a solitary individual wasplaced on a giddy eyrie, whence he might note the movements of those whodwelt in the hamlet, without being the subject of observation himself. Ashort spur of the mountain projected into the valley, on the side nearestto the dwelling of the Heathcotes. A little tumbling brook, which themelting of the snows and the occasionally heavy rains of the climateperiodically increased into a torrent, had worn a deep ravine in its rockybosom. Time, and the constant action of water, aided by the driving stormsof winter and autumn, had converted many of the different faces of thisravine into wild-looking pictures of the residences of men. There washowever one spot, in particular, around which a closer inspection thanthat which the distance of the houses in the settlement offered, mighthave detected far more plausible signs of the agency of human hands, thanany that were afforded by the fancied resemblances of fantastic angles andaccidental formations.

Precisely at that point where a sweep of the mountain permitted the bestview of the valley, did the rocks assume the wildest, the most confused,and consequently the most favorable appearance for the construction of anyresidence which it was desirable should escape the curious eyes of thesettlers, at the same time that it possessed the advantage of overlookingtheir proceedings. A hermit would have chosen the place as a spot suitedto distant and calm observation of the world, while it was every wayadapted to solitary reflection and ascetic devotion. All who havejourneyed through the narrow and water-worn vineyards and meadows whichare washed by the Rhone, ere that river pours its tribute into the Lake ofLeman, have seen some such site, occupied by one who has devoted his lifeto seclusion and the altar, overhanging the village of St. Maurice, in theCanton of le Valais. But there is an air of obtrusiveness in the Swisshermits age that did not belong to the place of which we write, since theone is perched upon its high and narrow ledge, as if to show the world inwhat dangerous and circumscribed limits God may be worshipped; while theother sought exemption from absolute solitude, while it courted secrecywith the most jealous caution. A small hut had been erected against theside of the rock, in a manner that presented an oblique angle. Care hadbeen taken to surround it with such natural objects as left little reasonto apprehend that its real character could be known by any who did notabsolutely mount to the difficult shelf on which it stood. Light enteredinto this primitive and humble abode by a window that looked into theravine, and a low door opened on the side next the valley. Theconstruction was partly of stone and partly of logs, with a roof of barkand a chimney of mud and sticks.

One who, by his severe and gloomy brow, was a fit possessor of so secludeda tenement, was, at the hour named, seated on a stone at the most salientangle of the mountain, and at the place where the eye commanded the widestand least-obstructed view of the abodes of man in the distance. Stones hadbeen rolled together in a manner to form a little breastwork in his front,so that, had there been any wandering gaze sweeping over the face of themountain, it was far from probable that it would have detected thepresence of a man whose whole form, with the exception of the superiorparts, was so effectually concealed.

It would have been difficult to say, whether this secluded being had thusplaced himself in order to indulge in some habitual and fanciedcommunication with the little world of the valley, or whether, he sat athis post in watchfulness. There was an appearance of each of theseoccupations in his air; for at times his eye was melancholy and softened,as if his spirit found pleasure in the charities natural to the species;and at others, the brows contracted with sternness, while the lips becamemore than usually compressed, like those of a man who threw himself on hisown innate resolution for support.

The solitude of the place, the air of universal quiet which reigned above,the boundless leafy carpet over which the eye looked from that elevatedpoint, and the breathing stillness of the bosom of the woods, united togive grandeur to the scene. The figure of the tenant of the ravine was asimmovable as any other object of the view. It seemed, in all but color andexpression, of stone. An elbow was leaning on the little screen in front,and the head was supported by a hand. At the distance of an arrow'sflight, the eye might readily have supposed it no more than another of theaccidental imitations which had been worn in the rock by the changes ofcenturies. An hour passed, and scarce a limb had been changed, or a musclerelieved. Either contemplation, or the patient awaiting of some looked-forevent, appeared to suspend the ordinary functions of life. At length, aninterruption occurred to this extraordinary inaction. A rustling, notlouder than that which would have been made by the leap of a squirrel, wasfirst heard in the bushes above; it was succeeded by a crackling ofbranches, and then a fragment of a rock came bounding down the precipice,until it shot over the head of the still motionless hermit, and fell, witha noise that drew a succession of echoes from the caverns of the place,into the ravine beneath.

Notwithstanding the suddenness of this interruption, and the extraordinaryfracas with which it was accompanied, he, who might be supposed to be mostaffected by it, manifested none of the usual symptoms of fear or surprise.He listened intently, until the last sound had died away, but it was withexpectation rather than with alarm. Arising slowly, he looked warily abouthim, and then walking with a quick step along the ledge which led to hishut, he disappeared through its door. In another minute, however, he wasagain seen at his former post; a short carabine, such as was then used bymounted warriors, lying across his knee. If doubt or perplexity beset themind of this individual, at so palpable a sign that the solitude hecourted was in danger of being interrupted, it was not of a naturesufficiently strong to disturb the equanimity of his aspect. A second timethe branches rustled, and the sounds proceeded from a lower part of theprecipice as if the foot that caused the disturbance was in the act ofdescending. Though no one was visible the nature of the noise could nolonger be mistaken. It was evidently the tread of a human foot, for nobeast of a weight sufficient to produce so great an impression, would havechosen to rove across a spot where the support of hands was nearly asnecessary as that of the other limbs.

"Come forward!" said he who in all but the accessories of dress andhostile preparation might so well be termed a hermit--"I am already here."

The words were not given to the air, for one suddenly appeared on theledge at the side next the settlement, and within twenty feet of thespeaker. When glance met glance, the surprise which evidently tookpossession of the intruder and of him who appeared to claim a better rightto be where they met, seemed mutual. The carabine of the latter, and amusket carried by the former, fell into the dangerous line of aim at thesame instant, and An a moment they were thrown upwards again, as if acommon impulse controlled them. The resident signed to the other to drawnigher, and, then every appearance of hostility disappeared in that sortof familiarity which confidence begets.

"How is it," said the former to his guest, when both were calmly seatedbehind the little screen of stones, "that thou hast fallen upon thissecret place? The foot of stranger hath not often trod these rocks, and noman before thee hath ever descended the precipice."

"A moccason is sure," returned the other with Indian brevity. "My fatherhath a good eye. He can see very far from the door of his lodge."

"Thou knowest that the men of my color speak often to their Good Spirit,and they do not love to ask his favor in the highways. This place issacred to his holy name."

The intruder was the young Sachem of the Narragansetts, and he who,notwithstanding this plausible apology, so palpably sought secrecy ratherthan solitude was the man that has often been introduced into these pagesunder the shade of mystery. The instant recognition and the mutualconfidence require no further explanation, since enough has already beendeveloped in the course of the narrative, to show that they were nostrangers to each other. Still the meeting had not taken place withoutuneasiness on the one part, and great though admirably veiled surprise onthe other. As became his high station and lofty character, the bearing ofConanchet betrayed none of the littleness of a vulgar curiosity. He methis ancient acquaintance with the calm dignity of his rank, and it wouldhave been difficult for the most inquiring eye to have detected awandering glance, a single prying look, or any other sign that he deemedthe place at all extraordinary for such an interview. He listened to thelittle explanation of the other, with grave courtesy, and suffered a shorttime to elapse before he made any reply.

"The Manitou of the pale-men," he then said "should be pleased with myfather. His words are often in the ears of the Great Spirit! The trees andthe rocks know them."

"Like all of a sinful and fallen race," returned the stranger with thesevere air of the age, "I have much need of my askings. But why dost thouthink that my voice is so often heard in this secret place?"

The finger of Conanchet pointed to the worn rock at his feet, and his eyeglanced furtively at the beaten path which led between the spot and thedoor of the lodge.

"A Yengeese hath a hard heel, but it is softer than stone. The hoof of thedeer would pass many times, to leave such a trail."

"Thou art quick of eye, Narragansett, and yet thy judgment may bedeceived. My tongue is not the only one that speaketh to the God ofmy people."

The Sachem bent his head slightly, in acquiescence, as if unwilling topress the subject. But his companion was not so easily satisfied, for hefelt the consciousness of a fruitless attempt at deception goading him tosome plausible means of quieting the suspicions of the Indian.

"That I am now alone, may be matter of pleasure or of accident," he added;"thou knowest that this hath been a busy and a bloody day among thepale-men, and there are dead and dying in their lodges. One who hath nowigwam of his own may have found time to worship by himself."

"The mind is very cunning," returned Conanchet; "it can hear when the earis deaf--it can see when the eye is shut. My father hath spoken to theGood Spirit, with the rest of his tribe."

As the chief concluded, he pointed significantly towards the distantchurch, out of which the excited congregation we have described wasat that moment pouring into the green and little-trodden street ofthe hamlet. The other appeared to understand his meaning, and, at thesame instant, to feel the folly, as well as the uselessness, ofattempting any longer to mislead one that already knew so much of hisformer mode of life.

"Indian, thou sayest true," he rejoined gloomily "the mind seeth far, andit seeth often in the bitterness of sorrow. My spirit was communing withthe spirits of those thou seest, when thy step was first heard; besidesthine own, the feet of man never mounted to this place, except it be ofthose who minister to my bodily wants. Thou sayest true; the mental sightis keen; and far beyond those distant hills, on which the last rays of thesetting sun are now shining so gloriously, doth mine often bear me inspirit. Thou wast once my fellow-lodger, youth, and much pleasure had I instriving to open thy young mind to the truths of our race, and to teachthee to speak with the tongue of a Christian; but years have passedaway--hark! There cometh one up the path. Hast thou dread of a Yengeese?"

The calm mien with which Conanchet had been listening, changed to a coldsmile. His hand had felt for the lock of the musket, some time before hiscompanion had betrayed any consciousness of the approaching footstep; butuntil questioned, no change of countenance was visible.

"Is my father afraid for his friend?" he asked, pointing in the directionof him who approached. "Is it an armed warrior?"

"No: he cometh with the means of sustaining a burthen that must be borne,until it pleaseth him who knoweth what is good for all his creatures toease me of it. It may be the parent of her thou hast this day restored toher friends, or it may be the brother; for, at times, I owe this kindnessto different members of that worthy family."

A look of intelligence shot across the swarthy features of the chief. Hisdecision appeared taken. Arising, he left his weapon at the feet of hiscompanion, and moved swiftly along the ledge, as if to meet the intruder.In another instant he returned, bearing a little bundle closely envelopedin belts of richly-beaded wampum. Placing the latter gently by the side ofthe old man, for time had changed the color of the solitary's hair togray, he said, in a low, quick voice, pointing with significance at whathe had done--

"The Messenger will not go back with an empty hand. My father is wise; hewill say what is good."

There was little time for further explanation. The door of the hut hadscarcely closed on Conanchet, before Mark Heathcote appeared at the pointwhere the path bent around the angle of the precipice.

"Thou knowest what hath passed, and wilt suffer me to depart with briefdiscourse," said the young man, placing food at the feet of him he came toseek; "ha! what hast here?--didst gain this in the fray of the morning?"

"It is booty that I freely bestow; take it to the house of thy father. Itis left with that object. Now tell me of the manner in which death hathdealt with our people, for thou knowest that necessity drove me from amongthem, so soon as liberty was granted."

Mark showed no disposition to gratify the other's wish. He gazed on thebundle of Conanchet, as if his eye had never before looked on a similarobject, and keenly contending passions were playing about a brow thatwas seldom as tranquil as suited the self-denying habits of the timesand country.

"It shall be done, Narragansett!" he said, speaking between his clenchedteeth; "it shall be done!" Then turning on his heel, he stalked along thegiddy path with a rapidity of stride that kept the other in fearfulsuspense for his safety, until his active form had disappeared.

The recluse arose, and sought the occupant of his humble abode.

"Come forth," he said, opening the narrow door for the passage of theChief. "The youth hath departed with thy burthen, and thou art now alonewith an ancient associate."

Conanchet reappeared at the summons, but it was with an eye less glowingand a brow less stern than when he entered the little cabin. As he movedslowly to the stone he had before occupied, his step was arrested for amoment, and a look of melancholy regret seemed to be cast at the spotwhere he had laid the bundle. Conquering his feelings, however, in thehabitual self-command of his people, he resumed his seat, with the air ofone that was grave by nature, while he appeared to exert no effort inorder to preserve the admirable equanimity of his features. A long andthoughtful silence succeeded, and then the solitary spoke.

"We have made a friend of the Narragansett Chief," he said, "and thisleague with Philip is broken?"

"Yengeese," returned the other, "I am full of the blood of Sachems."

"Why should the Indian and the white do each other this violence? Theearth is large, and there is place for men of all colors and of allnations on its surface."

"My father hath found but little," said the other, bestowing such acautious glance at the narrow limits of his host, as at once betrayedthe sarcastic purport of his words, while it equally bespoke thecourtesy of his mind.

"A light-minded and vain prince is seated on the throne of a once-godlynation, Chief, and darkness has again come over a land which of lateshone with a clear and shining light! The just are made to flee from thehabitations of their infancy, and the temples of the elect are abandonedto the abominations of idolatry. Oh England! England! when will thy cup ofbitterness be full?--when shall this judgment pass from thee? My spiritgroaneth over thy fall--yea, my inmost soul is saddened with the spectacleof thy misery!"

Conanchet was too delicate to regard the glazed eye and flushed foreheadof the speaker, but he listened in amazement and in ignorance. Suchexpressions had often met his ear before, and though his tender years hadprobably prevented their producing much effect, now, that he again heardthem in his manhood, they conveyed no intelligible meaning to his mind.Suddenly laying a finger on the knee of his companion, he said--

"The arm of my father was raised on the side of the Yengeese, to-day; yetthey give him no seat it their council-fire!"

"The sinful man, who ruleth in the island whence my people came, hath anarm that is long as his mind is vain. Though debarred from the councils ofthis valley, Chief, time hath been, when my voice was heard in councilsthat struck heavily at the power of his race. These eyes have seen justicedone on him who gave existence to the double-tongued instrument of Belial,that now governeth a rich and glorious realm!"

"My father hath taken the scalp of a great chief!"

"I helped to take his head!" returned the solitary, a ray of bitterexultation gleaming through the habitual austerity of his brow.

"Come.--The eagle flies above the clouds, that he may move his wingsfreely. The panther leaps longest on the widest plain; the biggest fishswim in the deep water. My father cannot stretch himself between theserocks. He is too big to lie down in a little wigwam. The woods are wide;let him change the color of his skin, and be a gray head at thecouncil-fire of my nation. The warriors will listen to what he says, forhis hand hath done a strong deed!"

"It may not be--it may not be, Narragansett That which hath been generatedin the spirit, must abide, and it would be 'easier for the blackamoor tobecome white, or for the leopard to change his spots,' than for one whohath felt the power of the Lord, to cast aside his gifts. But I meet thyproffers of amity in a charitable and forgiving spirit. My mind is everwith my people; yet is there place for other friendships. Break then thisleague with the evil-minded and turbulent Philip, and let the hatchet befor ever buried in the path between thy village and the towns of theYengeese."

"Where is my village? There is a dark place near the islands on the shoresof the Great Lake; but I see no lodges."

"We will rebuild thy towns, and people them anew. Let there be peacebetween us."

"My mind is ever with my people;" returned the Indian, repeating theother's words, with an emphasis that could not be mistaken.

A long and melancholy pause succeeded; and when the conversation wasrenewed, it had reference to those events which had taken place in thefortunes of each, since the time when they were both tenants of theblock-house that stood amid the ancient habitations of the Heathcotes.Each appeared too well to comprehend the character of the other, toattempt any further efforts towards producing a change of purpose; anddarkness had gathered about the place, before they arose to enter the hutof the solitary.

"Sleep, thou hast been a grandsire, and begot
A father to me: and thou hast created
A mother and two brothers."

Cymbeline

The short twilight was already passed, when old Mark Heathcote ended theevening prayer. The mixed character of the remarkable events of that dayhad given birth to a feeling, which could find no other relief than thatwhich flowed from the usual zealous, confiding, and exalted outpouring ofthe spirit. On the present occasion, he had even resorted to anextraordinary, and, what one less devout might be tempted to think, asupererogatory offering of thanksgiving and praise. After dismissing thedependants of the establishment, supported by the arm of his son, he hadwithdrawn into an inner apartment, and there, surrounded only by those whohad the nearest claims on his affections, the old man again raised hisvoice to laud the Being, who, in the midst of so much general grief, haddeigned to look upon his particular race with the eyes of remembrance andof favor. He spoke of his recovered grand-child by name, and he dealt withthe whole subject of her captivity among the heathen, and her restorationto the foot of the altar, with the fervor of one who saw the wise decreesof Providence in the event, and with a tenderness of sentiment that agewas far from having extinguished. It was at the close of this private andpeculiar worship, that we return into the presence of the family.

The spirit of reform had driven those, who so violently felt itsinfluence, into many usages that, to say the least, were quite asungracious to the imagination, as the customs they termed idolatrous wereobnoxious to the attacks of their own unaccommodating theories. The firstProtestants had expelled so much from the service of the altar, thatlittle was left for the Puritan to destroy, without incurring the risk ofleaving it naked of its loveliness. By a strange substitution of subtletyfor humility, it was thought pharisaical to bend the knee in public, lestthe great essential of spiritual worship might be supplanted by the moreattainable merit of formula; and while rigid aspects, and prescribeddeportments of a new character, were observed with all the zeal ofconverts, ancient and even natural practices were condemned, chiefly, webelieve, from that necessity of innovation which appears to be anunavoidable attendant of all plans of improvement, whether they aresuccessful or the reverse. But though the Puritans refused to bow theirstubborn limbs when the eye of man was on them, even while asking boonssuited to their own sublimated opinions, it was permitted to assume inprivate an attitude which was thought to admit of so gross an abuse,inasmuch as it infers a claim to a religious vitality, while in truth thesoul might only be slumbering in the security of mere moral pretension.

On the present occasion, they who worshipped in secret had bent theirbodies to the humblest posture of devotion. When Ruth Heathcote arose fromher knees, it was with a hand clasped in that of the child whom her recentdevotion was well suited to make her think had been rescued from acondition far more gloomy than that of the grave. She had used a gentleviolence to force the wondering being at her side to join, so far asexternals could go, in the prayer; and, now it was ended, she sought thecountenance of her daughter, in order to read the impression the scene hadproduced, with all the solicitude of a Christian, heightened by thetenderest maternal love.

Narra-mattah, as we shall continue to call her, in air, expression, andattitude, resembled one who had a fancied existence in the delusion ofsome exciting dream. Her ear remembered sounds which had so often beenrepeated in her infancy, and her memory recalled indistinct recollectionsof most of the objects and usages that were so suddenly replaced beforeher eyes; but the former now conveyed their meaning to a mind that hadgained its strength under a very different system of theology, and thelatter came too late to supplant usages that were rooted in her affectionsby the aid of all those wild and seductive habits; that are known tobecome nearly unconquerable in those who have long been subject to theirinfluence. She stood, therefore, in the centre of the grave,self-restrained group of her nearest kin, like an alien to their blood,resembling some timid and but half-tamed tenant of the air, that human arthad endeavored to domesticate, by placing it in the society of the moretranquil and confiding inhabitants of the aviary.

Notwithstanding the strength of her affections, and her devotion to allthe natural duties of her station, Ruth Heathcote was not now to learn themanner in which she was to subdue any violence in their exhibition. Thefirst indulgence of joy and gratitude was over, and in its place appearedthe never-tiring, vigilant, engrossing, but regulated watchfulness, whichthe events would naturally create. The doubts, misgivings, and evenfearful apprehensions, that beset her, were smothered in an appearance ofsatisfaction; and something like gleamings of happiness were again seenplaying about a brow that had so long been clouded with an unobtrusivebut corroding care.

"And thou recallest thine infancy, my Ruth?" asked the mother, when therespectful period of silence, which ever succeeded prayer in that family,was passed; "thy thoughts have not been altogether strangers to us, butnature hath had its place in thy heart. Tell us, child, of thy wanderingsin the forest, and of the sufferings that one so tender must haveundergone among a barbarous people. There is pleasure in listening to allthou hast seen and felt, now that we know there is an end to unhappiness."

She spoke to an ear that was deaf to language like this. Narra-mattahevidently understood her words, while their meaning was wrapped in anobscurity that she neither wished to nor was capable of comprehending.Keeping a gaze, in which pleasure and wonder were powerfully blended, onthat soft look of affection which beamed from her mother's eye, she felthurriedly among the folds of her dress, and drawing a belt that was gailyornamented after the most ingenious fashion of her adopted people, sheapproached her half-pleased, half-distressed parent, and, with hands thattrembled equally with timidity and pleasure, she arranged it around herperson in a manner to show its richness to the best advantage. Pleasedwith her performance, the artless being eagerly sought approbation in eyesthat bespoke little else than regret. Alarmed at an expression she couldnot translate, the gaze of Narra-mattah wandered, as if it sought supportagainst some sensation to which she was a stranger. Whittal Ring hadstolen into the room, and missing the customary features of her owncherished home, the looks of the startled creature rested on thecountenance of the witless wanderer. She pointed eagerly at the work ofher hands, appealing by an eloquent and artless gesture to the taste ofone who should know whether she had done well.

"Bravely!" returned Whittal, approaching nearer to the subject of hisadmiration--"'tis a brave belt, and none but the wife of a Sachem couldmake so rare a gift!"

The girl folded her arms meekly on her bosom, and again appeared satisfiedwith herself and with the world.

"Here is the hand of him visible who dealeth in all wickedness," said thePuritan. "To corrupt the heart with vanities, and to mislead theaffections by luring them to the things of life, is the guile in which hedelighteth. A fallen nature lendeth but too ready aid. We must deal withthe child in fervor and watchfulness, or better that her bones were lyingby the side of those little ones of thy flock, who are already inheritorsof the promise."

Respect kept Ruth silent; but, while she sorrowed over the ignorance ofher child, natural affection was strong at her heart. With the tact of awoman and the tenderness of a mother, she both saw and felt that severitywas not the means to effect the improvement they desired. Taking a seatherself, she drew her child to her person, and, first imploring silence bya glance at those around her, she proceeded, in a manner that was dictatedby the mysterious influence of nature, to fathom the depth of herdaughter's mind.

"Come nearer, Narra-mattah;" she said, using the name to which the otherwould alone answer. 'Thou art still in thy youth, my child; but it hathpleased him whose will is law, to have made thee the witness of manychanges in this varying life. Tell me if thou recallest the days ofinfancy, and if thy thoughts ever returned to thy father's house, duringthose weary years thou wast kept from our view?'

Ruth used gentle force to draw her daughter nearer while speaking, andthe latter sunk into that posture from which she had just arisen,kneeling, as she had often done in infancy, at her mother's side. Theattitude was too full of tender recollections not to be grateful, and thehalf-alarmed being of the forest was suffered to retain it during most ofthe dialogue that followed. But while she was thus obedient in person, bythe vacancy or rather wonder of an eye that was so eloquent to express allthe emotions and knowledge of which she was the mistress, Narra-mattahplainly manifested that little more than the endearment of her mother'swords and manner was intelligible. Ruth saw the meaning of her hesitation;and, smothering the pang it caused, she endeavored to adapt her languageto the habits of one so artless.

"Even the gray heads of thy people were once young," she resumed; "andthey remember the lodges of their fathers. Does my daughter ever think ofthe time when she played among the children of the Pale-faces?"

The attentive being at the knee of Ruth listened greedily. Her knowledgeof the language of her childhood had been sufficiently implanted beforeher captivity, and it had been too often exercised by intercourse with thewhites, and more particularly with Whittal Ring, to leave her in any doubtof the meaning of what she now heard. Stealing a timid look over ashoulder, she sought the countenance of Martha, and, studying herlineaments for near a minute with intense regard, she laughed aloud in thecontagious merriment of an Indian girl.

"Thou hast not forgotten us! That glance at her who was the companion ofthy infancy assures me, and we shall soon again possess our Ruth inaffection, as we now possess her in the body. I will not speak to thee ofthat fearful night when the violence of the savage robbed us of thypresence, not of the bitter sorrow which beset us at thy loss; but thereis one who must still be known to thee, my child; He who sitteth above theclouds, who holdeth the earth in the hollow of his hand, and who lookethin mercy on all that journey on the path to which his own finger pointeth.Hath he yet a place in thy thoughts? Thou rememberest His Holy Name, andstill thinkest of his power?"

The listener bent her head aside, as if to catch the full meaning of whatshe heard, the shadows of deep reverence passing over a face that had solately been smiling. After a pause, she audibly murmured the word--

"Manitou."

"Manitou, or Jehovah; God, or King of Kings, and Lord of Lords! itmattereth little which term is used to express his power. Thou knowest himthen, and hast never ceased to call upon his name?"

"Narra-mattah is a woman. She is afraid to speak to the Manitou aloud. Heknows the voices of the chiefs, and opens his ears when they ask help."

The Puritan groaned, but Ruth succeeded in quelling her own anguish, lestshe should disturb the reviving confidence of her daughter.

"This may be the Manitou of an Indian," she said, "but it is not theChristian's God. Thou art of a race which worships differently, and it isproper that thou shouldst call on the name of the Deity of thy fathers.Even the Narragansett teacheth this truth! Thy skin is white, and thy earsshould hearken to the traditions of the men of thy blood."

The head of the daughter drooped at this allusion to her color as if shewould fain conceal the mortifying truth from every eye; but she had nottime for answer ere Whittal Ring drew near, and pointing to the burningcolor of her cheeks, that were deepened as much with shame as with theheats of an American sun, he said--

"The wife of the Sachem hath begun to change. She will soon be likeNipset, all red--See," he added laying a finger on a part of his own armwhere the sun and the winds had not yet destroyed the original color; "theEvil Spirit poured water into his blood too, but it will come out again.As soon as he is so dark that the Evil Spirit will not know him, he willgo on the war-path; and then the lying Pale-faces may dig up the bones oftheir fathers, and move towards the sun-rise, or his lodge will be linedwith hair of the color of a deer!"

"And thou, my daughter! canst thou hear this threat against the people ofthy nation--of thy blood--of thy God--without a shudder?"

The eye of Narra-mattah seemed in doubt; still it regarded Whittal withits accustomed look of kindness. The innocent, full of his imaginaryglory, raised his hand in exultation, and by gestures that could noteasily be misunderstood, he indicated the manner in which he intended torob his victims of the usual trophy. While the youth was enacting thedisgusting but expressive pantomime, Ruth watched the countenance of herchild in nearly breathless agony. She would have been relieved by a singleglance of disapprobation, by a solitary movement of a rebellious muscle,or by the smallest sign that the tender nature of one so lovely, andotherwise so gentle, revolted at so unequivocal evidence of the barbarouspractices of her adopted people. But no Empress of Rome could havewitnessed the dying agonies of the hapless gladiator, no consort of a moremodern prince could read the bloody list of the victims of her husband'striumph, nor any betrothed fair listen to the murderous deeds of him herimagination had painted as a hero, with less indifference to humansuffering, than that with which the wife of the Sachem of theNarragansetts looked on the mimic representation of those exploits whichhad purchased for her husband a renown so highly prized. It was but tooapparent that the representation, rude and savage as it was, conveyed toher mind nothing but pictures in which the chosen companion of a warriorshould rejoice. The varying features and answering eye too plainlyproclaimed the sympathy of one taught to exult in the success of thecombatant; and when Whittal, excited by his own exertions, broke out intoan exhibition of a violence more ruthless even than common, he was openlyrewarded by another laugh. The soft, exquisitely feminine tones of thisinvoluntary burst of pleasure, sounded in the ears of Ruth like a knellover the moral beauty of her child. Still subduing her feelings, shepassed a hand thoughtfully over her own pallid brow, and appeared to muselong on the desolation of a mind that had once promised to be so pure.

The colonists had not yet severed all those natural ties which bound themto the eastern hemisphere. Their legends, their pride, and in manyinstances their memories, aided in keeping alive a feeling of amity, andit might be added of faith, in favor of the land of their ancestors. Withsome of their descendants, even to the present hour, the beau ideal ofexcellence, in all that pertains to human qualities and human happiness,is connected with the images of the country from which they sprung.Distance is known to cast a softening mist, equally over the moral andphysical vision. The blue outline of mountain which melts into its glowingbackground of sky, is not more pleasing than the pictures which fancysometimes draws of less material things; but, as he draws near, thedisappointed traveller too often finds nakedness and deformity, where heso fondly imagined beauty only was to be seen. No wonder then that thedwellers of the simple provinces of New-England blended recollections ofthe country they still called home, with most of their poetical picturesof life. They retained the language, the books, and most of the habits, ofthe English. But different circumstances, divided interests, and peculiaropinions, were gradually beginning to open those breaches which time hassince widened, and which promises soon to leave little in common betweenthe two people, except the same forms of speech and a common origin: it isto be hoped that some charity may be blended with these ties.

The singularly restrained habits of the religionists, throughout the wholeof the British provinces, were in marked opposition to the mereembellishments of life. The arts were permitted only as they served itsmost useful and obvious purposes. With them, music was confined to theworship of God, and, for a long time after the original settlement, thesong was never known to lead the mind astray from what was conceived to bethe one great object of existence. No verse was sung, but such as blendedholy ideas with the pleasures of harmony; nor were the sounds of revelryever heard within their borders. Still, words adapted to their particularcondition had come into use, and though poetry was neither a common nor abrilliant property of the mind, among a people thus disciplined in asceticpractices, it early exhibited its power in quaint versification, that wasalways intended, though with a success it is almost pardonable to doubt,to redound to the glory of the Deity. It was but a natural enlargement ofthis pious practice, to adapt some of these spiritual songs to thepurposes of the nursery.

When Ruth Heathcote passed her hand thoughtfully across her brow, it waswith a painful conviction that her dominion over the mind of her childwas sadly weakened, if not lost for ever. But the efforts of maternal loveare not easily repulsed. An idea flashed upon her brain, and she proceededto try the efficacy of the experiment it suggested. Nature had endowed herwith a melodious voice, and an ear that taught her to regulate sounds in amanner that seldom failed to touch the heart. She possessed the genius ofmusic, which is melody, unweakened by those exaggerated affectations withwhich it is often encumbered by what is pretendingly called science.Drawing her daughter nearer to her knee, she commenced one of the songsthen much used by the mothers of the Colony, her voice scarcely risingabove the whispering of the evening air, in its first notes, but graduallygaining, as she proceeded, the richness and compass that a strain sosimple required.

At the first low breathing notes of this nursery song, Narra-mattah becameas motionless as if her rounded and unfettered form had been wrought inmarble. Pleasure lighted her eyes, as strain succeeded strain; and ere thesecond verse was ended, her look, her attitude, and every muscle of heringenuous features, were eloquent in the expression of delight. Ruth didnot hazard the experiment without trembling for its result. Emotionimparted feeling to the music, and when, for the third time in the courseof her song, she addressed her child, the saw the soft blue eyes thatgazed wistfully on her face swimming in tears. Encouraged by thisunequivocal evidence of success, nature grew still more powerful in itsefforts, and the closing verse was sung to an ear that nestled near herheart, as it had often done during the early years of Narra-mattah whilelistening to its melancholy melody.

Content was a quiet but an anxious witness of this touching evidence of areviving intelligence between his wife and child. He best understood thelook that beamed in the eyes of the former, while her arms were, withextreme caution, folded around her who still leaned upon her bosom, as iffearful one so timid might be frightened from her security by any suddenor unaccustomed interruption. A minute passed in the deepest silence. EvenWhittal Ring was lulled into quiet, and long and sorrowing years hadpassed since Ruth enjoyed moments of happiness so pure and unalloyed. Thestillness was broken by a heavy step in the outer room; a door was thrownopen by a hand more violent than common, and then young Mark appeared, hisface flushed with exertion, his brow seemingly retaining the frown ofbattle, and with a tread that betrayed a spirit goaded by some fierce andunwelcome passion. The burthen of Conanchet was on his arm. He laid itupon a table; then pointing, in a manner that appeared to challengeattention, he turned, and left the room as abruptly as he had entered.

A cry of joy burst from the lips of Narra-mattah, the instant the beadedbelts caught her eye. The arms of Ruth relaxed their hold in surprise, andbefore amazement had time to give place to more connected ideas, the wildbeing at her knee had flown to the table, returned, resumed her formerposture, opened the folds of the cloth, and was holding before thebewildered gaze of her mother the patient features of an Indian babe.

It would exceed the powers of the unambitious pen we wield, to convey tothe reader a just idea of the mixed emotions that struggled for mastery inthe countenance of Ruth. The innate and never-dying sentiment of maternaljoy was opposed by all those feelings of pride, that prejudice could notfail to implant even in the bosom of one so meek. There was no need totell the history of the parentage of the little suppliant, who alreadylooked up into her face, with that peculiar calm which renders his race soremarkable. Though its glance was weakened by infancy, the dark glitteringeye of Conanchet was there; there were also to be seen the recedingforehead and the compressed lip of the father; but all these marks of hisorigin were softened by touches of that beauty which had rendered theinfancy of her own child so remarkable.

"See!" said Narra-mattah, raising the infant still nearer to the rivetedgaze of Ruth; "'tis a Sachem of the red men! The little eagle hath lefthis nest too soon."

Ruth could not resist the appeal of her beloved. Bending her head low, soas entirely to conceal her own flushed face, she imprinted a kiss on theforehead of the Indian boy. But the jealous eye of the young mother wasnot to be deceived. Narra-mattah detected the difference between the coldsalute and those fervent embraces she had herself received, anddisappointment produced a chill about her own heart. Replacing the foldsof the cloth with quiet dignity, she arose from her knees, and withdrew insadness to a distant corner of the room. There she took a seat, and with aglance that might almost be termed reproachful, she commenced a low Indiansong to her infant.

"The wisdom of Providence is in this, as in all its dispensations;"whispered Content over the shoulder of his nearly insensible partner."Had we received her as she was lost, the favor might have exceededour deservings. Our daughter is grieved that thou turnest a cold eyeon her babe."

The appeal was sufficient for one whose affections had been wounded ratherthan chilled. It recalled Ruth to recollection, and it served at once todissipate the shades of regret that had been unconsciously permitted togather around her brow. The displeasure, or it would be more true to termit sorrow, of the young mother was easily appeased. A smile on her infantbrought the blood back to her heart in a swift and tumultuous current; andRuth, herself, soon forgot that she had any reason for regret, in theinnocent delight with which her own daughter now hastened to display thephysical excellence of the boy. From this scene of natural feeling,Content was too quickly summoned by the intelligence that some one withoutawaited his presence, on business of the last importance to the welfare ofthe settlement.

"It will have blood; they say, blood
Will have blood!"

Macbeth.

The visiters were Dr. Ergot, the Reverend Meek Wolfe, Ensign Dudley, andReuben Ring. Content found these four individuals seated in an outer room,in a grave and restrained manner, that would have done no discredit to theself-command of an Indian council. He was saluted with those staid andcomposed greetings which are still much used in the intercourse of thepeople of the Eastern States of this Republic, and which have obtained forthem a reputation, where they are little known, of a want of the moreactive charities of our nature. But that was peculiarly the age ofsublimated doctrines, of self-mortification, and of severe moralgovernment, and most men believed it a merit to exhibit, on alloccasions, the dominion of the mind over the mere animal impulses. Theusage, which took its rise in exalted ideas of spiritual perfection, hassince grown into a habit, which, though weakened by the influence of theage, still exists to a degree that often leads to an erroneous estimate ofcharacter.

At the entrance of the master of the house, there was some such decoroussilence as that which is known to precede the communications of theaborigines. At length Ensign Dudley, in whom matter, most probably inconsequence of its bulk, bore more than an usual proportion to his lessmaterial part, manifested some evidences of impatience that the divineshould proceed to business. Thus admonished, or possibly conceiving that asufficient concession had been made to the dignity of man's nature, Meekopened his mouth to speak.

"Captain Content Heathcote," he commenced, with that mystical involutionof his subject which practice had rendered nearly inseparable from all hiscommunications; "Captain Content Heathcote, this hath been a day of awfulvisitations, and of gracious temporal gifts. The heathen hath been smittenseverely by the hand of the believer, and the believer hath been made topay the penalty of his want of faith, by the infliction of a savageagency. Azazel hath been loosened in our village, the legions ofwickedness have been suffered to go at large in our fields, and yet theLord hath remembered his people, and hath borne them through a trial ofblood as perilous as was the passage of his chosen nation through thebillows of the Red Sea. There is cause of mourning, and cause of joy, inthis manifestation of his will; of sorrow that we have merited his anger,and of rejoicing that enough of redeeming grace hath been found to savethe Gomorrah of our hearts. But I speak to one trained in spiritualdiscipline, and schooled in the vicissitudes of the world, and furtherdiscourse is not necessary to quicken his apprehension. We will thereforeturn to more instant and temporal exercises. Have all of thy householdescaped unharmed throughout the strivings of this bloody day?"

"We praise the Lord that such hath been his pleasure," returned Content."Other than as sorrow hath assailed us through the mourning of friends theblow hath fallen lightly on me and mine."

"Thou hast had thy season; the parent ceaseth to chastise, whileformer punishments are remembered. But here is Sergeant Ring, withmatter to communicate, that may still leave business for thy courageand thy wisdom."

Content turned his quiet look upon the yeoman, and seemed to await hisspeech. Reuben Ring, who was a man of many solid and valuable qualities,would most probably have been exercising the military functions of hisbrother-in-law, at that very moment, had he been equally gifted with afluent discourse. But his feats lay rather in doing than in speaking, andthe tide of popularity had in consequence set less strongly in his favorthan might have happened had the reverse been the case. The present,however, was a moment when it was necessary to overcome his naturalreluctance to speak, and it was not long before he replied to theinquiring glance of his commander's eye.

"The Captain knows the manner in which we scourged the savages at thesouthern end of the valley," the sturdy yeoman began, "and it is notnecessary to deal with the particulars at length. There weresix-and-twenty red-skins slain in the meadows, besides as many more thatleft the ground in the arms of their friends. As for the people, we got afew hurts, but each man came back on his own limbs."

"This is much as the matter hath been reported."

"Then there was a party sent to brush the woods on the trail of theIndians," resumed Reuben, without appearing to regard the interruption."The scouts broke off in pairs in the duty, and finally men got tosearching singly, of which number I was one. The two men of whom there isquestion--"

"Of what men dost speak?" demanded Content.

"The two men of whom there is question," returned the other, continuingthe direct course of his own manner of relating events, without appealingto see the necessity of connecting the threads of his communication; "themen of whom I have spoken to the Minister and the Ensign--"

"Proceed," said Content, who understood his man.

"After one of these men was brought to his end I saw no reason for makingthe day bloodier than it already was, the more especially as the Lord hadcaused it to begin with a merciful hand which shed its bounties on my owndwelling. Under such an opinion of right-doing, the other was bound andled into the clearings."

"Thou hast made a captive?"

The lips of Reuben scarce severed as he muttered a low assent; but theEnsign Dudley took upon himself the duty of entering into furtherexplanations, which the point where his kinsman left the narrative enabledhim to do with sufficient intelligence.

"As the Sergeant hath related," he said, "one of the heathen fell, and theother is now without, waiting a judgment in the matter of his fortune."

"I trust there is no wish to harm him," said Content, glancing an eyeuneasily around at his companions. "Strife hath done enough in oursettlement this day. The Sergeant hath a right to claim the scalp-bounty,for the man that is slain; but for him that liveth, let there be mercy!"

"Mercy is a quality of heavenly origin," replied Meek Wolfe, "and itshould not be perverted to defeat the purposes of heavenly wisdom. Azazelmust not triumph, though the tribe of the Narragansetts should be sweptwith the besom of destruction. Truly, we are an erring and a falliblerace, Captain Heathcote; and the greater, therefore, the necessity that wesubmit, without rebellion, to the inward monitors that are implanted, bygrace, to teach us the road of our duty----"

"I cannot consent to shed blood, now that the strife hath ceased," hastilyinterrupted Content. "Praised be Providence! we are victors; and it istime to lean to councils of charity."

"Such are the deceptions of a short-sighted wisdom!" returned the divine,his dim, sunken eye shining with the promptings of an exaggerated andsubtle spirit. "The end of all is good, and we may not, without mortaldanger, presume to doubt the suggestions of heavenly gifts. But there isnot question here concerning the execution of the captive, since heproffereth to be of service in far greater things than any that can dependon his life or death. The heathen rendered up his liberty with littlestruggle, and hath propositions that may lead us to a profitableconclusion of this day's trials."

"If he can aid in aught that shall shorten the perils and wantonness ofthis ruthless war, he shall find none better disposed to listen than I."

"He professeth ability to do that service."

"Then, of Heaven's mercy! let him be brought forth, that we counsel on hisproposals."

Meek made a gesture to Sergeant Ring, who quitted the apartment for amoment, and shortly after returned followed by his captive. The Indian wasone of those dark and malignant-looking savages that possess most of thesinister properties of their condition, with few or none of the redeemingqualities. His eye was lowering and distrustful, bespeaking equallyapprehension and revenge; his form of that middling degree of perfectionwhich leaves as little to admire as to condemn, and his attire such isdenoted him one who might be ranked among the warriors of a secondaryclass. Still, in the composure of his mien, the tranquillity of his step,and the self-possession of all his movements, he displayed that highbearing, his people rarely fail to exhibit, ere too much intercourse withthe whites begins to destroy their distinctive traits.

"Here is the Narragansett," said Reuben Ring, causing his prisoner toappear in the centre of the room; "he is no chief, as may be gathered fromhis uncertain look."

"If he effect that of which there hath been question, his rank matterethlittle. We seek to stop the currents of blood that flow like runningwater, in these devoted Colonies."

"This will he do," rejoined the divine, "or we shall hold him answerablefor breach of promise."

"And in what doth he profess to aid in stopping the work of death?"

"By yielding the fierce Philip, and his savage ally,' the rovingConanchet, to the judgment. Those chiefs destroyed, our temple may beentered in peace, and the voice of thanksgiving shall again rise in ourBethel, without the profane interruption of savage shrieks."

Content started, and even recoiled a step, as he listened to the nature ofthe proposed peace-offering.

"And have we warranty for such a proceeding, should this man prove true?"he asked, in a voice that sufficiently denoted his own doubts of thepropriety of such a measure.

"There is the law, the necessities of a suffering nature, and God'sglory, for our justification," drily returned the divine.

"This outsteppeth the discreet exercise of a delegated authority. I likenot to assume so great power, without written mandates for its execution."

"The objection hath raised a little difficulty in my own mind," observedEnsign Dudley; "and as it hath set thoughts at work, it is possible thatwhat I have to offer will meet the Captain's good approbation."

Content knew that his ancient servitor was, though often uncouth in itsexhibition, at the bottom a man of humane heart. On the other hand, whilehe scarce admitted the truth to himself, he had a secret dread of theexaggerated sentiments of his spiritual guide; and he consequentlylistened to the interruption of Eben, with a gratification he scarcelywished to conceal.

"Speak openly," he said; "when men counsel in a matter of this weight,each standeth on the surety of his proper gifts."

"Then may this business be dispatched without the embarrassment theCaptain seems to dread. We have an Indian, who offers to lead a partythrough the forests to the haunts of the bloody chiefs, therein bringingaffairs to the issue of manhood and discretion.""And wherein do you propose any departure from the suggestions that havealready been made?"

Ensign Dudley had not risen to his present rank, without acquiring asuitable portion of the reserve which is so often found to dignifyofficial sentiments. Having ventured the opinion already placed, howevervaguely, before his hearers, he was patiently awaiting its effects on themind of his superior, when the latter, by his earnest and unsuspectingcountenance, no less than by the question just given, showed that he wasstill in the dark as to the expedient the subaltern wished to suggest.

"I think there will be no necessity for making more captives," resumedEben, "since the one we have appears to create difficulties in ourcouncils. If there be any law in the Colony, which says that men muststrike with a gentle hand in open battle, it is a law but little spoken ofin common discourse, and though no pretender to the wisdom of legislators,I will make bold to add, it is a law that may as well be forgotten untilthis outbreaking of the savages shall be quelled."

"We deal with an enemy that never stays his hand at the cry of mercy,"observed Meek Wolfe, "and though charity be the fruit of Christianqualities, there is a duty greater than any which belongeth to earth. Weare no more than weak and feeble instruments in the hands of Providence,and as such our minds should not be hardened to our inward promptings. Ifevidence of better feeling could be found in the deeds of the heathen, wemight raise our hopes to the completion of things; but the Powers ofDarkness still rage in their hearts, and we are taught to believe that thetree is known by its fruits."

Content signed to all to await his return, and left the room. In anotherminute, he was seen leading his daughter into the centre of the circle.The half-alarmed young woman clasped her swaddled boy to her bosom, as shegazed timidly at the grave faces of the borderers; and her eye recoiled infear, when its hurried glance met the sunken, glazed, excited, and yetequivocal-looking organ of the Reverend Mr. Wolfe.

"Thou hast said that the savage never hearkens to the cry of mercy,"resumed Content; "here is living evidence that thou hast spoken in error.The misfortune that early befell my family, is not unknown to any in thissettlement; thou seest in this trembling creature the daughter of ourlove--her we have so long mourned. The wept of my household is again withus; our hearts have been oppressed, they are now gladdened. God hathreturned our child!"

There was a deep, rich pathos in the tones of the father, that affectedmost of his auditors, though each manifested his sensibilities in a mannersuited to his particular habits of mind. The nature of the divine wastouched, and all the energies of his severe principles were wanting tosustain him above the manifestation of a weakness that he might havebelieved derogatory to his spiritual exaltation of character. He thereforesat mute, with hands folded on his knee, betraying the struggles of anawakened sympathy only by a firmer compression of the interlocked fingers,and an occasional and involuntary movement of the stronger muscles of theface. Dudley suffered a smile of pleasure to lighten his broad, opencountenance; and the physician, who had hitherto been merely a listener,uttered a few low syllables of admiration of the physical perfection ofthe being before him, with which there was mingled some evidence ofnatural good feeling.

Reuben Ring was the only individual who openly betrayed the whole degreeof the interest he took in the restoration of the lost female. The stoutyeoman arose, and, moving to the entranced Narra-mattah, he took theinfant into his large hands, and for a moment the honest borderer gazedat the boy with a wistful and softened eye. Then raising the diminutiveface of the infant to his own expanded and bold features, he touched itscheek with his lips, and returned the babe to its mother, who witnessedthe whole proceeding in some such tribulation as the startled wrenexhibits when the foot of the urchin is seen to draw too near the nestof its young.

"Thou seest that the hand of the Narragansett hath been stayed," saidContent, when a deep silence had succeeded this little movement, andspeaking in a tone which betrayed hopes of victory.

"The ways of Providence are mysterious!" returned Meek; "wherein theybring comfort to the heart, it is right that we exhibit gratitude; andwherein they are charged with present affliction, it is meet to bowwith humbled spirits to their orderings. But the visitations onfamilies are merely--"

He paused, for at that moment a door opened, and a party entered bearing aburthen, which they deposited, with decent and grave respect, on thefloor, in the very centre of the room. The unceremonious manner of theentrance, the assured and the common gravity of their air, proclaimed thatthe villagers felt their errand to be a sufficient apology for thisintrusion. Had not the business of the past day naturally led to such abelief, the manner and aspects of those who had borne the burthen wouldhave announced it to be a human body.

"I had believed that none fell in this day's strife, but those who mettheir end near my own door," said Content, after a long, respectful, andsorrowing pause. "Remove the face-cloth, that we may know on whom the blowhath fallen."

One of the young men obeyed. It was not easy to recognise, through themutilations of savage barbarity, the features of the sufferer. But asecond and steadier look showed the gory and still agonized countenance ofthe individual who had, that morning, left the Wish-Ton-Wish on themessage of the colonial authorities. Even men as practised as thosepresent, in the horrible inventions of Indian cruelty, turned sickeningaway from a spectacle that war calculated to chill the blood of all whohad not become callous to human affliction. Content made a sign to coverthe miserable remnants of mortality, and hid his face, with a shudder.

It is not necessary to dwell on the scene that followed. Meek Wolfeavailed himself of this unexpected event, to press his plan on theattention of the commanding officer of the settlement, who was certainlyfar better disposed to listen to his proposals, than before this palpableevidence of the ruthless character of their enemies was presented to hisview. Still Content listened with reluctance, nor was it without theintention of exercising an ulterior discretion in the case, that hefinally consented to give orders for the departure of a body of men, withthe approach of the morning light. As much of the discourse was managedwith those half-intelligible allusions that distinguished men of theirhabits, it is probable that every individual present had his ownparticular views of the subject: though it is certain, one and allfaithfully believed that he was solely influenced by a justifiable regardto his temporal interest, which was in some degree rendered still morepraiseworthy by a reference to the service of his Divine Master.

As the party returned, Dudley lingered a moment, alone, with his formermaster. The face of the honest-meaning Ensign was charged with more thanits usual significance; and he even paused a little, after all were beyondhearing, ere he could muster resolution to propose the subject that was soevidently uppermost in his mind.

"Captain Content Heathcote," he at length commenced, "evil or good comesnot alone in this life. Thou hast found her that we sought with so muchpain and danger, but thou hast found with her more than a Christiangentleman can desire. I am a man of humble station, but I may make bold toknow what should be the feelings of a father, whose child is restored,replenished by such an over-bountiful gift."

"Speak plainer," said Content, firmly.

"Then I would say, that it may not be grateful to one who taketh his placeamong the best in this Colony, to have an offspring with an Indian crossof blood, and over whose birth no rite of Christian marriage hath beensaid. Here is Abundance, a woman of exceeding usefulness in anewly-settled region, hath made Reuben a gift of three noble boys thisvery morning. The accession is little known, and less discoursed of, inthat the good wife is accustomed to such liberality, and that the day hathbrought forth still greater events. Now a child, more or less, to such awoman, can neither raise question among the neighbors, nor make anyextraordinary difference to the household. My brother Ring would be happyto add the boy to his stock; and should there be any remarks concerningthe color of the younker, at a future day, it should give no reason ofsurprise, had the whole four been born, on the day of such an inroad, redas Metacom himself!".

Content heard his companion to the end, without interruption. Hiscountenance, for a single instant, as the meaning of the Ensign becameunequivocal, reddened with a worldly feeling to which he had long been astranger; but the painful expression as quickly disappeared, and in itsplace reigned the meek submission to Providence that habituallycharacterized his mien.

"That I have been troubled with this vain thought, I shall not deny," heanswered; "but the Lord hath given me strength to resist. It is his willthat one sprung of heathen lineage shall come beneath my roof, and let hiswill be done! My child, and all that are hers, are welcome."

Ensign Dudley pressed the point no further, and they separated.

"Tarry a little;--there is something else."

Merchant of Venice.

We shift the scene. The reader will transport himself from the valley ofthe Wish-Ton-Wish, to the bosom of a deep and dark wood.

It may be thought that such scenes have been too often described to needany repetition. Still, as it is possible that these pages may fall intothe hands of some who have never quitted the older members of the Union,we shall endeavor to give them a faint impression concerning theappearance of the place to which it has become our duty to transfer theaction of the tale.

Although it is certain that inanimate, like animate nature, has itsperiod, the existence of the tree has no fixed and common limit. The oak,the elm, and the linden, the quick-growing sycamore and the tall pine, haseach its own laws for the government of its growth, its magnitude, and itsduration. By this provision of nature, the wilderness, in the midst of somany successive changes, is always maintained at the point nearest toperfection, since the accessions are so few and gradual as to preserve itscharacter.

The American forest exhibits in the highest degree the grandeur of repose.As nature never does violence to its own laws, the soil throws out theplant which it is best qualified to support, and the eye is not oftendisappointed by a sickly vegetation. There ever seems a generous emulationin the trees, which is not to be found among others or differentfamilies, when left to pursue their quiet existence in the solitude of thefields. Each struggles towards the light, and an equality in bulk and asimilarity in form are thus produced, which scarce belong to theirdistinctive characters. The effect may be easily imagined. The vaultedarches beneath are filled with thousands of high, unbroken columns, whichsustain one vast and trembling canopy of leaves. A pleasing gloom and animposing silence have their interminable reign below, while an outer andanother atmosphere seems to rest on the cloud of foliage.

While the light plays on the varying surface of the tree-tops, one sombreand little-varied hue colors the earth. Dead and moss-covered logs; moundscovered with decomposed vegetable substances, the graves of long-pastgenerations of trees; cavities left by the fall of some uprooted trunk;dark fungi, that flourish around the decayed roots of those about to losetheir hold, with a few slender and delicate plants of a minor growth, andwhich best succeed in the shade, form the accompaniments of the lowerscene. The whole is tempered, and in summer rendered grateful, by afreshness which equals that of the subterranean vault, without possessingany of its chilling dampness. In the midst of this gloomy solitude, thefoot of man is rarely heard. An occasional glimpse of the bounding deer ortrotting moose, is almost the only interruption on the earth itself; whilethe heavy bear or leaping panther, is, at long intervals, met seated onthe branches of some venerable tree. There are moments, too, when troopsof hungry wolves are found hunting on the trail of the deer; but these areseen rather as exceptions to the stillness of the place, than asaccessories that should properly be introduced into the picture. Even thebirds are, in common, mute, or when they do break the silence, it is in adiscordance that suits the character of their wild abode.

Through such a scene two men were industriously journeying, on the daywhich succeeded the inroad last described. They marched as wont, one afterthe other, the younger and more active leading the way through themonotony of the woods, as accurately and as unhesitatingly as the marinerdirects his course by the aid of the needle over the waste of waters. Hein front was light, agile, and seemingly unwearied; while the one whofollowed was a man of heavy mould, whose step denoted less practice in theexercise of the forest, and possibly some failing of natural vigor.

"Thine eye, Narragansett, is an unerring compass by which to steer, andthy leg a never-wearied steed;" said the latter, casting the butt of hismusket on the end of a mouldering log, while he leaned on the barrel forsupport. "If thou movest on the war-path with the same diligence as thouusest in our errand of peace, well may the Colonists dread thy enmity."

The other turned, and without seeking aid from the gun which restedagainst his shoulder, he pointed at the several objects he named, andanswered--

"My father is this aged sycamore; it leans against the youngoak--Conanchet is a straight pine. There is great cunning in gray hairs,"added the chief stepping lightly forward until a finger rested on the armof Submission; "can they tell the time when we shall lie under the mosslike a dead hemlock?"

"That exceedeth the wisdom of man. It is enough, Sachem, if when we fall,we may say with truth, that the land we shadowed is no poorer for ourgrowth. Thy bones will lie in the earth where thy fathers trod, but minemay whiten in the vault of some gloomy forest."

The quiet of the Indian's face was disturbed. The pupils of his dark eyescontracted, his nostrils dilated, and his full chest heaved; and then allreposed, like the sluggish ocean, after a vain effort to heave its watersinto some swelling wave, during a general calm.

"Fire hath scorched the prints of my father's moccasons from the earth,"he said, with a smile that was placid though bitter, "and my eyes cannotfind them. I shall die under that shelter," pointing through an opening inthe foliage to the blue void; "the falling leaves will cover my bones."

"Then hath the Lord given us a new bond of friendship. There is ayew-tree and a quiet church-yard in a country afar, where generations ofmy race sleep in their graves. The place is white with stones, that bearthe name of----"

Submission suddenly ceased to speak, and when his eye was raised to thatof his companion, it was just in time to detect the manner in which thecurious interest of the latter changed suddenly to cold reserve, and tonote the high courtesy of the air with which the Indian turned thediscourse.

"There is water beyond the little hill," he said. "Let my father drink andgrow stronger, that he may live to lie in the clearings."

The other bowed, and they proceeded to the spot in silence. It would seem,by the length of time that was now lost in taking the requiredrefreshment, that the travellers had journeyed long and far. TheNarragansett ate more sparingly, however, than his companion, for his mindappeared to sustain a weight that was far more grievous than the fatiguewhich had been endured by the body. Still his composure was littledisturbed outwardly, for during the silent repast he maintained the air ofa dignified warrior, rather than that of a man whose air could be muchaffected by inward sorrow. When nature was appeased, they both arose,and continued their route through the pathless forest.

For an hour after quitting the spring, the progress of our two adventurerswas swift, and uninterrupted by any passing observation or momentarypause. At the end of that time, however, the speed of Conanchet began toslacken, and his eye, instead of maintaining its steady and forwarddirection, was seen to wander with some of the appearance of indecision.

"Thou hast lost those secret signs by which we have so far threaded thewoods," observed his companion; "one tree is like another, and I see nodifference in this wilderness of nature; but if thou art at fault, we maytruly despair of our object."

"Here is the nest of the eagle," returned Conanchet, pointing at theobject he named perched on the upper and whitened branches of a dead pine;"and my father may see the council-tree in this oak--but there are noWampanoags!"

"There are many eagles in this forest, nor is that oak one that may nothave its fellow. Thine eye hath been deceived, Sachem, and some false signhath led us astray."

Conanchet looked at his companion attentively. After a moment, hequietly asked--

"Did my father ever mistake his path, in going from his wigwam to theplace where he looked upon the house of his Great Spirit?"

"The matter of that often-travelled path was different, Narragansett. Myfoot had worn the rock with many passings, and the distance was a span.But we have journeyed through leagues of forest, and our route hath lainacross brook and hill, through brake and morass, where human vision hathnot been able to detect the smallest sign of the presence of man."

"My father is old," said the Indian, respectfully. "His eye is not asquick as when he took the scalp of the Great Chief, or he would know theprint of a moccason--see," making his companion observe the mark of ahuman foot that was barely discernible by the manner in which the deadleaves had been displaced; "his rock is worn, but it is harder than theground. He cannot tell by its signs who passed, or when."

"Here is truly that which ingenuity may portray as the print of man'sfoot; but it is alone, and may be some accident of the wind."

"Let my father look on every side; he will see that a tribe hath passed."

"This may be true, though my vision is unequal to detect that thou wouldstshow. But if a tribe hath passed, let us follow."

Conanchet shook his head, and spread the fingers of his two hands in amanner to describe the radii of a circle.

"Hugh!" he said, starting even while he was thus significantly answeringby gestures, "a moccason comes!"

Submission, who had so often and so recently been arrayed against thesavages, involuntarily sought the lock of his carbine. His look and actionwere menacing, though his roving eye could see no object to excite alarm.

Not so Conanchet. His quicker and more practised vision soon caught aglimpse of the warrior who was approaching, occasionally concealed by thetrunks of trees, and whose tread on the dried leaves had first betrayedhis proximity. Folding his arms on his naked bosom, the Narragansettchief awaited the coming of the other, in an attitude of calmness anddignity. Neither did he speak nor suffer a muscle to play, until a handwas placed on one of his arms, and he who had drawn near said, in tonesof amity and respect--

"The young Sachem hath come to look for his brother?"

"Wampanoag, I have followed the trail, that your ears may listen to thetalk of a Pale-face."

The third person in this interview was Metacom He shot a haughty andfierce glance at the stranger, and then turned to his companion in arms,with recovered calmness, to reply.

"Has Conanchet counted his young men since they raised the whoop?" heasked, in the language of the aborigines. "I saw many go into the fields,that never came back. Let the white men die."

"Wampanoag, he is led by the wampum of a Sachem. I have not counted myyoung men; but I know that they are strong enough to say that what theirchief hath promised shall be done."

"If the Yengeese is a friend of my brother, he is welcome. The wigwam ofMetacom is open; let him enter it."

Philip made a sign for the others to follow, and led the way to the placehe had named.

The spot chosen by Philip for his temporary encampment, was suited to sucha purpose. There was a thicket, denser than common, on one of its sides; asteep and high rock protected and sheltered its rear; a swift and widebrook dashed over fragments that had fallen, with time, from the precipicein its front; and towards the setting sun, a whirlwind had opened a longand melancholy glade through the forest. A few huts of brush leanedagainst the base of the hill, and the scanty implements of their domesticeconomy were scattered among the habitations of the savages. The wholeparty did not number twenty; for, as has been said, the Wampanoag hadacted latterly more by the agency of his allies, than with the materialsof his own proper force.

The three were soon seated on a rock whose foot was washed by the rapidcurrent of the tumbling water. A few gloomy-looking and fierce Indianswatched the conference, in the back-ground.

"My brother hath followed my trail, that my ears may hear, the words of aYengeese," Philip commenced, after a sufficient period had elapsed toescape the imputation of curiosity. "Let him speak."

"I have come singly into the jaws of the lion, restless and remorselessleader of the savages," returned the bold exile, "that you may hear thewords of peace. Why hath the son seen the acts of the English sodifferently from the father? Massassoit was a friend of the persecuted andpatient pilgrims who have sought rest and refuge in this Bethel of thefaithful; but thou hast hardened thy heart to their prayers, and seekestthe blood of those who wish thee no wrong. Doubtless thy nature is one ofpride and mistaken vanities, like that of all thy race, and it hath seemedneedful to the vain-glory of thy name and nation to battle against men ofa different origin. But know there is one who is master of all here onearth, as he is King of Heaven! It is his pleasure that the sweet savor ofhis worship should arise from the wilderness. His will is law, and theythat would withstand do but kick against the pricks. Listen then topeaceful counsels, that the land may be parcelled justly to meet the wantsof all, and the country be prepared for the incense of the altar."

This exhortation was uttered in a deep and almost unearthly voice, andwith a degree of excitement that was probably increased by the intensitywith which the solitary had lately been brooding over his peculiaropinions, and the terrible scenes in which he had so recently been anactor. Philip listened with the high courtesy of an Indian prince.Unintelligible as was the meaning of the speaker, his countenance betrayedno gleaming of impatience, his lip no smile of ridicule. On the contrary,a noble and lofty gravity reigned in every feature; and ignorant as he wasof what the other wished to say, his attentive eye and bending headexpressed every wish to comprehend.

"My pale friend hath spoken very wisely," he said, when the other ceasedto speak. "But he doth not see clearly in these woods; he sits too much inthe shade. His eye is better in a clearing. Metacom is not a fierce beast.His claws are worn out, his legs are tired with travelling. He cannot jumpfar. My pale friend wants to divide the land. Why trouble the Great Spiritto do his work twice? He gave the Wampanoags their hunting-grounds, andplaces on the salt lake to catch their fish and clams, and he did notforget his children the Narragansetts. He put them in the midst of thewater, for he saw that they could swim. Did he forget the Yengeese? or didhe put them in a swamp, where they would turn into frogs and lizards!"

"Heathen, my voice shall never deny the bounties of my God! His hand hathplaced my fathers in a fertile land, rich in the good things of the world,fortunate in position, sea-girt and impregnable. Happy is he who can findjustification in dwelling within its borders!"

An empty gourd lay on the rock at the side of Metacom. Bending over thestream, he filled it to the brim with water, and held the vessel beforethe eyes of his companions.

"See," he said, pointing to the even surface of the fluid: "so much haththe Great Spirit said it shall hold. Now," he added, filling the hollowof the other hand from the brook, and casting its contents into the gourd,"now my brother knows that some must come away. It is so with his country.There is no longer room in it for my pale friend."

"Did I attempt to deceive thine ears with this tale, I should layfalsehood to my soul. We are many, and sorry am I to say that some amongus are like unto them that were called 'Legion.' But to say that thereis not still place for all to die where they are born, is to utterdamning untruth."

"The land of the Yengeese is then good--very good," returned Philip; "buttheir young men like one that is better."

"Thy nature, Wampanoag, is not equal to comprehend the motives which haveled us hither, and our discourse is getting vain."

"My brother Conanchet is a Sachem. The leaves that fall from the trees ofhis country, in the season of frosts, blow into my hunting-grounds. We areneighbors and friends," slightly bending his head to the Narragansett."When a wicked Indian runs from the islands to the wigwams of my people,he is whipt and sent back. We keep the path between us open, only forhonest red men."

Philip spoke with a sneer, that his habitual loftiness of manner did notconceal from his associate chief, though it was so slight as entirely toescape the observation of him who was the subject of his sarcasm. Theformer took the alarm, and for the first time during the dialogue did hebreak silence.

"My pale father is a brave warrior," said the young Sachem of theNarragansetts. "His hand took the scalp of the Great Sagamore ofhis people!"

The countenance of Metacom changed instantly. In place of the ironicalscorn that was gathering about his lip, its expression became serious andrespectful. He gazed steadily at the hard and weather beaten features ofhis guest, and it is probable that words of higher courtesy than any hehad yet used would have fallen from him, had not, at that moment, a signalbeen given, by a young Indian set to watch on the summit of the rock, thatone approached. Both Metacom and Conanchet appeared to hear this cry withsome uneasiness. Neither however arose, nor did either betray suchevidence of alarm as denoted a deeper interest in the interruption, thanthe circumstances might very naturally create A warrior was shortly seenentering the encampment, from the side of the forest which was known tolie in the direction of the Wish-Ton-Wish.

The moment Conanchet saw the person of the newly-arrived man, his eye andattitude resumed their former repose, though the look of Metacom stillcontinued gloomy and distrustful. The difference in the manner of thechiefs was not however sufficiently strong to be remarked by Submission,who was about to resume the discourse, when the new-comer moved past thecluster of warriors in the encampment, and took his seat near them, on astone so low, that the water laved his feet. As usual there was nogreeting between the Indians for some moments, the three appearing toregard the arrival as a mere thing of course. But the uneasiness ofMetacom prompted a communication sooner than common.

"Mohtucket," he said, in the language of their tribe, "hath lost thetrail of his friends. We thought the crows of the pale-men were pickinghis bones!"

"There was no scalp at his belt, and Mohtucket was ashamed to be seenamong the young men with an empty hand."

"He remembered that he had too often come back without striking a deadenemy," returned Metacom, about whose firm mouth lurked an expression ofill-concealed contempt. "Has he now touched a warrior?"

The Indian, who was merely a man of the inferior class, held up the trophywhich hung at his girdle to the examination of his chief. Metacom lookedat the disgusting object with the calmness and nearly with the interest,that a virtuoso would lavish on an antique memorial of some triumph offormer ages. His finger was thrust through a hole in the skin, and then,while he resumed his former position, he observed drily--

"A bullet hath hit the head. The arrow of Mohtucket doth little harm!"

"Metacom hath never looked on his young man like a friend, since thebrother of Mohtucket was killed."

The glance that Philip cast at his underling, though it was not unmingledwith suspicion, was one of princely and savage scorn. Their white auditorhad not been able to understand the discourse, but the dissatisfaction anduneasiness of the eyes of both were too obvious not to show that theconference was far from being amicable.

"The Sachem hath discontent with his young man," he observed, "and fromthis may he understand the nature of that which leadeth many to quit theland of their fathers, beneath the rising sun, to come to this wildernessin the west. If he will now listen, I will touch further on the businessof my errand, and deal more at large with the subject we have but solightly skimmed."

Philip manifested attention. He smiled on his guest, and even bowed hisassent to the proposal; still his keen eye seemed to read the soul of hissubordinate, through the veil of his gloomy visage. There was a play ofthe fingers of his right hand, when the arm fell from its position acrosshis bosom to his thigh, as if they itched to grasp the knife whosebuck-horn handle lay within a few inches of their reach. Yet his air tothe white man was composed and dignified. The latter was again about tospeak, when the arches of the forest suddenly rung with the report of amusket. All in and near the encampment sprung to their feet at thewell-known sound, and yet all continued as motionless as if so many darkbut breathing statues had been planted there. The rustling of leaves washeard, and then the body of the young Indian, who had been posted on therock, rolled to the edge of the precipice, whence it fell, like a log, onthe yielding roof of one of the lodges beneath. A shout issued from theforest behind, a volley roared among the trees, and glancing lead waswhistling through the air, and cutting twigs from the undergrowth on everyside. Two more of the Wampanoags were seen rolling on the earth, in thedeath-agony.

The voice of Annawon was heard in the encampment, and at the next instantthe place was deserted.

During this startling and fearful moment, the four individuals near thestream were inactive. Conanchet and his Christian friend stood to theirarms, but it was rather as men cling to the means of defence in moments ofgreat jeopardy, than with any intention of offensive hostilities. Metacomseemed undecided. Accustomed to receive and inflict surprises, a warriorso experienced could not be disconcerted; still he hesitated as to thecourse he ought to take. But when Annawon, who was nearer the scene,sounded the signal of retreat, he sprung towards the returned straggler,and with a single blow of his tomahawk brained the traitor. Glances offierce revenge, and of inextinguishable though disappointed hatred, wereexchanged between the victim and his chief, as the former lay on the rockgasping for breath; and then the latter turned in his tracks, and raisedthe dripping weapon over the head of the white man.

"Wampanoag, no!" said Conanchet, in a voice of thunder. "Our lives areone."

Philip hesitated. Fierce and dangerous passions were struggling in hisbreast, but the habitual self-command of the wily politician of thosewoods prevailed. Even in that scene of blood and alarm, he smiled on hispowerful and fearless young ally; then pointing to the deepest shades ofthe forest, he bounded towards them with the activity of a deer.

"But, peace be with him!
That life is better life, past fearing death,
Than that which lives to fear."

Measure for Measure.

Courage is both a comparative and an improvable virtue. If the fear ofdeath be a weakness common to the race, it is one that is capable of beingdiminished by frequent exposure, and even rendered extinct by reflection.It was therefore with sensibilities entirely changed from their naturalcourse, that the two individuals who were left alone by the retreat ofPhilip, saw the nature and the approach of the danger that now beset them.Their position near the brook had so far protected them from the bulletsof the assailants; but it was equally obvious to both, that in a minute ortwo the Colonists would enter an encampment that was already deserted.Each, in consequence, acted according to those opinions which had beenfostered by the habits of their respective lives.

As Conanchet had no act of vengeance, like that which Metacom hadperformed, immediately before his eyes, he had, at the first alarm,given all his faculties to the nature of the attack. The first minutewas sufficient to understand its character and the second enabled himto decide.

"Come," he said hastily, but with perfect self-possession, pointing as hespoke to the swift-running stream at his feet; "we will go with the water;let the marks of our trail run before."

Submission hesitated. There was something like haughty military pride inthe stern determination of his eye, which seemed reluctant to incur thedisgrace of a flight so unequivocal, and, as he might have believed, sounworthy of his character.

"No, Narragansett!" he answered; "flee for thy life, but leave me to reapthe harvest of my deeds. They can but leave my bones by the side of thoseof this traitor at my feet."

The mien of Conanchet was neither excited nor displeased. He quietly drewthe corner of his light robe over a shoulder, and was about to resume hisseat on the stone from which he had but a minute before arisen, when hiscompanion again urged him to fly.

"The enemies of a chief must not say that he led his friend into a trap,and that when his leg was fast he ran away himself, like a lucky fox. Ifmy brother stays to be killed, Conanchet will be found near him."

"Heathen, heathen!" returned the other, moved nearly to tears by theloyalty of his guide; "many a Christian man might take lessons from thyfaith. Lead on--I will follow, at the utmost of my speed."

The Narragansett sprung into the brook, and took its downward course--adirection opposite to that which Philip had chosen. There was wisdom inthis expedient, for though their pursuers might see that the water wastroubled, there was no certainty as to the direction of the fugitives.Conanchet had foreseen this little advantage, and, with the instinctivereadiness of his people, he did not fail to make it of service. Metacomhad been influenced by the course taken by his warriors, who had retiredunder shelter of the rocks.

Ere the two fugitives had gone any great distance, they heard the shoutsof their enemies in the encampment; and soon after, scattering shotannounced that Philip had already rallied his people to resistance. Therewas an assurance of safety in the latter circumstance, which caused themto relax their speed.

"My foot is not as active as in days that are past," said Submission; "wewill therefore recover strength while we may, lest we be yet taken atemergency. Narragansett, thou hast ever kept thy faith with me, and comeof what race or worship in what manner thou mayst, there is one toremember it."

"My father looked with the eye of a friend on the Indian boy, that waskept like a young bear in a cage. He taught him to speak with the tongueof a Yengeese."

"We passed weary months together in our prison, Chief; and Apollyon musthave been strong in a heart, to resist the opportunity of friendship insuch a situation. But, even there, my confidence and care were repaid, forwithout thy mysterious hints, gathered from signs thou hadst gleanedthyself during the hunt, it would not have been in my power to warn myfriends that thy people contemplated an attack, the unhappy night of theburning. Narragansett, we have done many acts of kindness, each in his ownfashion, and I am ready to confess this last not to be the least of thyfavors. Though of white blood and of Christian origin, I can almost saythat my heart is Indian."

"Then die an Indian's death!" shouted a voice, within twenty feet of thespot where they were wading down the stream.

The menacing words were rather accompanied than seconded by a shot, andSubmission fell. Conanchet cast his musket into the water, and turned toraise his companion.

"It was merely age dealing with the slippery stones of the brook;" saidthe latter, as he recovered his footing. "That had well-nigh been a fataldischarge! but God, for his own purpose, hath still averted the blow."

Conanchet did hot speak. Seizing his gun, which lay at the bottom of thestream, he drew his friend after him to the shore, and plunged into thethicket that lined its banks. Here they were momentarily protected frommissiles. But the shouts that succeeded the discharge of the muskets, wereaccompanied by yells that he knew to proceed from Pequots and Mohegans,tribes that were in deadly hostility to his own people. The hope ofconcealing their trail from such pursuers was not to be indulged, and forhis companion to escape by flight he knew to be impossible. There was notime to lose. In such emergencies, with an Indian, thought takes thecharacter of instinct. The fugitives stood at the foot of a sapling, whosetop was completely concealed by masses of leaves, which belonged to theunder-brush that clustered around its trunk. Into this tree he assistedSubmission to ascend, and then, without explaining his own views, heinstantly left the spot, rendering his own trail as broad and perceptibleas possible, by beating down the bushes as he passed.

The expedient of the faithful Narragansett was completely successful.Before he had got a hundred yards from the place, he saw the foremost ofthe hostile Indians hunting like blood-hounds on his footsteps. Hismovement was slow, until he saw that, having his person in view, all ofthe pursuers had passed the tree. Then, the arrow parting from the bow wasscarce swifter than his flight.

The pursuit now partook of all the exciting incidents and ingeniousexpedients of an Indian chase. Conanchet was soon hunted from his cover,and obliged to trust his person in the more open parts of the forest.Miles of hill and ravine, of plain, of rocks, of morass and stream, werecrossed, and still the trained warrior held on his way, unbroken in spiritand scarce wearied in limb. The merit of a savage, in such an employment,rests more on his bottom than on his speed. The three or four Colonists,who had been sent with the party of amicable Indians to intercept thosewho might attempt to escape down the stream, were early thrown out; andthe struggle was now entirely between the fugitive and men equallypractised in limb and ingenious in expedient.

The Pequots had a great advantage in their number. The frequent doublingsof the fugitive kept the chase within the circle of a mile, and as each ofhis enemies tired, there were always fresh pursuers to take his plate. Insuch a contest, the result could not be questionable. After more than twohours of powerful exertion, the foot of Conanchet began to fail, and hisspeed very sensibly to flag. Exhausted by efforts that had been nearlysupernatural, the breathless warrior cast his person prostrate on theearth, and lay for several minutes as if he were dead.

During this breathing-time, his throbbing pulses grew more calm, his heartbeat less violently, and the circulation was gradually returning to thetranquil flow of nature in a state of rest. It was at this moment, whenhis energies were recruited by rest, that the chief heard the tread of themoccasons on his trail. Rising, he looked back on the course over which hehad just passed with so much pain. But a single warrior was in view. Hopefor an instant regained the ascendency, and he raised his musket to fellhis approaching adversary. The aim was cool, long, and it would have beenfatal, had not the useless tick of the lock reminded him of the conditionof the gun. He cast the wet and unserviceable piece away, and grasped histomahawk; but a band of Pequots rushed in to the rescue, renderingresistance madness. Perceiving the hopelessness of his situation, theSachem of the Narragansetts dropped his tomahawk, loosened his belt, andadvanced unarmed, with a noble resignation, to meet his foes. In the nextinstant, he was their prisoner.

"Bring me to your chief," said the captive, haughtily, when the commonherd into whose hands he had fallen would have questioned him on thesubject of his companions and of his own fate. "My tongue is used to speakwith Sachems."

He was obeyed, and before an hour had passed, the renowned Conanchet stoodconfronted with his most deadly enemy.

The place of meeting was the deserted encampment of the band of Philip.Here most of the pursuers had already assembled, including all of theColonists who had been engaged in the expedition. The latter consistedof Meek Wolfe, Ensign Dudley, Sergeant Ring, and a dozen private men ofthe village.

The result of the enterprise was, by this time, generally known. ThoughMetacom, its principal object, had escaped; yet, when it was understoodthat the Sachem of the Narragansetts had fallen into their hands, therewas not an individual of the party who did not think his personal riskmore than amply compensated. Though the Mohegans and Pequots restrainedtheir exultation, lest the pride of their captive should be soothed bysuch an evidence of his importance, the white men drew around the prisonerwith an interest and a joy they did not care to conceal. Still, as he hadyielded to an Indian there was an affectation of leaving the chief to theclemency of his conquerors. Perhaps some deeply-pondered scheme of policyhad its influence in this act of seeming justice.

When Conanchet was placed in the centre of the curious circle, he foundhimself immediately in presence of the principal chief of the tribe of theMohegans. It was Uncas, son of that Uncas whose fortunes had alsoprevailed, aided by the whites, in the conflict with his father, thehapless but noble Miantonimoh. Fate had now decreed, that the same evilstar, which had governed the destinies of the ancestor, should extend itsinfluence to the second generation.

The race of Uncas, though weakened of its power, and shorn of much of itspeculiar grandeur, by a vicious alliance with the English, still retainedmost of the fine qualities of savage heroism. He, who now stood forth toreceive his captive, was a warrior of middle age, of just proportions, ofa grave though fierce aspect, and of an eye and countenance that expressedall those contradictory traits of character which render the savagewarrior almost as admirable as he is appalling. Until this moment, therival chieftains had never met, except in the confusion of battle. For afew minutes, neither spoke. Each stood regarding the fine outlines, theeagle eye, the proud bearing, and the severe gravity, of the other, insecret admiration, but with a calmness so immovable, as entirely toconceal the workings of his thoughts. At length, they began to assumemiens suited to the part each was to enact in the coming scene. Thecountenance of Uncas became ironical and exulting, while that of hiscaptive grew still more cold and unconcerned.

"My young men," said the former, "have taken a fox skulking in thebushes. His legs were very long; but he had no heart to use them."

Conanchet folded his arms on his bosom, and the glance of his quiet eyeseemed to tell his enemy, that devices so common were unworthy of themboth. The other either understood its meaning, or loftier feelingsprevailed; for he added, in a better taste--

"Is Conanchet tired of his life, that he comes among my young men?"

"Mohican," said the Narragansett chief, "he has been there before; ifUncas will count his warriors he will see that some are wanting."

"There are no traditions among the Indians of the islands!" said theother, with an ironical glance at the chiefs near him, "They havenever heard of Miantonimoh; they do not know such a field as theSachem's plain!"

The countenance of the prisoner changed. For a single instant, it appearedto grow dark, as if a deep shadow were cast athwart it; and then everyfeature rested, as before, in dignified repose. His conqueror watched theplay of his lineaments, and when he thought nature was getting theascendancy, exultation gleamed about his own fierce eye; but when theself-possession of the Narragansett returned, he affected to think no moreof an effort that had been fruitless.

"If the men of the islands know little," he continued, "it is not so withthe Mohicans. There was once a great Sachem among the Narragansetts; hewas wiser than the beaver, swifter than the moose, and more cunning thanthe red fox. But he could not see, into to-morrow. Foolish counsellorstold him to go upon the war-path against the Pequots and Mohicans. He losthis scalp; it hangs in the smoke of my wigwam. We shall see if it willknow the hair of its son. Narragansett, here are wise men of thePale-faces; they will speak to you. If they offer a pipe, smoke: fortobacco is not plenty with your tribe."

Uncas then turned away, leaving his prisoner to the interrogatories of hiswhite allies.

"Here is the look of Miantonimoh, Sergeant Ring," observed Ensign Dudleyto his wife's brother, after he had contemplated for a reasonable time thefeatures of the prisoner. "I see the eye and the tread of the father, inthis young Sachem. And more, Sergeant Ring; the chief favors the boy wepicked up in the fields some dozen years agone, and kept in the block forthe matter of many months, caged like a young panther. Hast forgotten thenight, Reuben, and the lad, and the block? A fiery oven is not hotter thanthat pile was getting, before we dove into the earth. I never fail tothink of it, when the good Minister is dealing powerfully with thepunishments of the wicked, and the furnaces of Tophet!"

The silent yeoman comprehended the disconnected allusions of hisrelative, nor was he slow in seeing the palpable resemblance betweentheir prisoner and the Indian boy whose person had once been so familiarto his eye. Admiration and surprise were blended, in his honest face,with an expression that appeared to announce deep regret. As neither ofthese individuals, however, was the principal personage of their party,each was fain to remain an attentive and an interested observer of thatwhich followed.

"Worshipper of Baal!" commenced the sepulchral voice of the divine; "ithas pleased the King of Heaven and earth to protect his people! Thetriumph of thy evil nature hath been short, and now cometh the judgment!"

These words were uttered to ears that affected deafness. In the presenceof his most deadly foe, and a captive, Conanchet was not a man to sufferhis resolution to waver. He looked coldly and vacantly on the speaker,nor could the most suspicious or the most practised eye have detected inhis mien his knowledge of the English language. Deceived by the stoicismof the prisoner, Meek muttered a few words, in which the Narragansett wasstrangely dealt by, denunciations and petitions in his favor being blendedin the quaint and exaggerated fashions of the times; and then he submittedto the interference of those present, who were charged with the duty ofdeciding on the fate of the Indian.

Although Eben Dudley was the principal and the efficient military man inthis little expedition from the valley, he was accompanied by those whoseauthority was predominant in all matters that did not strictly appertainto the executive portion of the duty. Commissioners, named by theGovernment of the Colony, had come out with the party, clothed with powerto dispose of Philip, should that dreaded chief, as was expected, fallinto the hands of the English. To these persons the fate of Conanchet wasnow referred.

We shall not detain the narrative to dwell on the particulars of thecouncil. The question was gravely considered, and it was decided with adeep and conscientious sense of the responsibility of those who acted asjudges. Several hours were passed in deliberation, Meek opening andclosing the deliberations by solemn prayers. The judgment was thenannounced to Uncas, by the divine himself.

"The wise men of my people have consulted together in the matter of thisNarragansett," he said, "and their spirits have wrestled powerfully withthe subject. In coming to their conclusion, if it wear the aspect oftime-serving, let all remember, the Providence of Heaven hath sointerwoven the interests of man with its own good purposes, that to thecarnal eye they may outwardly seem to be inseparable. But that which ishere done is done in good faith to our ruling principle, which is goodfaith to thee and to all others who support the altar in this wilderness.And herein is our decision: We commit the Narragansett to thy justice,since it is evident that while he is at large, neither thou, who art afeeble prop to the church in these regions, nor we, who are its humble andunworthy servitors, are safe. Take him, then, and deal with him accordingto thy wisdom. We place limits to thy power, in only two things. It is notmeet that any born of humanity, and having human sensibilities, shouldsuffer more in the flesh than may be necessary to the ends of duty; wetherefore decree that thy captive shall not die by torture; and, for thebetter security of this our charitable decision, two of our number shallaccompany thee and him to the place of execution; it being alwayssupposed, it is thy intention to inflict the pains of death. Anothercondition of this concession to a foreordered necessity, is, that aChristian minister may be at hand, in order-that the sufferer may departwith the prayers of one accustomed to lift his voice in petitions to thefootstool of the Almighty."

The Mohegan chief heard this sentence with deep attention. When he foundhe was to be denied the satisfaction of proving, or perhaps of overcoming,the resolution of his enemy, a deep cloud passed across his swarthyvisage. But the strength of his tribe had long been broken, and to resistwould have been as unprofitable as to repine would have been unseemly. Theconditions were therefore accepted, and preparations were accordingly madeamong the Indians to proceed to judgment.

These people had few contradictory principles to appease, and nosubtleties to distract their decision. Direct, fearless, and simple in alltheir practices, they did little more than gather the voices of thechiefs, and acquaint their captive with the result. They knew thatfortune had thrown an implacable enemy into their hands, and they believedthat self-preservation demanded his life. To them it mattered littlewhether he had arrows in his hands, or had yielded himself an unarmedprisoner. He knew the risk he ran in submitting, and he had probablyconsulted his own character, rather than their benefit, in throwing awayhis arms. They therefore pronounced the judgment of death against theircaptive merely respecting the decree of their white allies, which hadcommanded them to spare the torture.

So soon as this determination was known, the Commissioners of theColony hastened away from the spot with consciences that required someaid from the stimulus of their subtle doctrines, in order to renderthem quiet. They were, however, ingenious casuists; and as they hurriedalong their return path, most of the party were satisfied that they hadrather manifested a merciful interposition, than exercised any act ofpositive cruelty.

During the two or three hours which had passed on these solemn andusual preparations, Conanchet was seated on a rock, a close butapparently an unmoved spectator of all that passed. His eye was mild,and at times melancholy; but its brightness and its steadiness remainedunimpaired. When his sentence was announced, it exhibited no change;and he saw all the pale-men depart, with the calmness he had maintainedthroughout. It was only as Uncas, attended by the body of his party andthe two white superintendents who had been left, approached, that hisspirit seemed to awaken.

"My people have said that there shall be no more wolves in the woods,"said Uncas; "and they have commanded our young men to slay the hungriestof them all."

"It is well!" coldly returned the other.

A gleaming of admiration, and perhaps of humanity, came over the grimcountenance of Uncas, as he gazed at the repose which reigned in the firmfeatures of his victim. For an instant, his purpose wavered.

"The Mohicans are a great tribe!" he added; "and the race of Uncas isgetting few. We will paint our brother so that the lying Narragansettsshall not know him, and he will be a warrior on the main land."

This relenting of his enemy had a corresponding effect on the generous,temper of Conanchet. The lofty pride deserted his eye, and his look becamemilder and more human. For a minute, intense thought brooded around hisbrow; the firm muscles of his mouth played a little, though scarcelyenough to be seen, and then he spoke.

"Mohican," he said, "why should your young men be in a hurry? My scalpwill be the scalp of a Great Chief to-morrow. They will not take two,should they strike their prisoner now."

"Hath Conanchet forgotten any thing, that he is not ready?"

"Sachem, he is always ready--But"----he paused, and spoke in tones thatfaltered,--"does a Mohican live alone?"

"How many suns doth the Narragansett ask?"

"One: when the shadow of that pine points towards the brook, Conanchetwill be ready. He will then stand in the shade, with naked hands."

"Go," said Uncas, with dignity; "I have heard the words of a Sagamore."

Conanchet turned, and passing swiftly through the silent crowd, his personwas soon lost in the surrounding forest.

"Therefore, lay bare your bosom."

Merchant of Venice.

The night that succeeded was wild and melancholy. The moon was nearlyfull, but its place in the heavens was only seen, as the masses of vaporwhich drove through the air occasionally opened, suffering short gleams offitful light to fall on the scene below. A south-western wind rathermoaned than sighed through the forest, and there were moments when itsfreshness increased, till every leaf seemed a tongue, and each low plantappeared to be endowed with the gift of speech. With the exception ofthese imposing and not unpleasing natural sounds, there was a solemn quietin and about the village of the Wish-Ton-Wish. An hour before the momentwhen we resume the action of the legend, the sun had settled into theneighboring forest, and most of its simple and laborious inhabitants hadalready sought their rest.

The lights however still shone through many of the windows of the"Heathcote house," as, in the language of the country, the dwelling of thePuritan was termed. There was the usual stirring industry in and about theoffices, and the ordinary calm was reigning in the superior parts of thehabitation. A solitary man was to be seen on its piazza. It was young MarkHeathcote, who paced the long and narrow gallery, as if impatient of someinterruption to his wishes.

The uneasiness of the young man was of short continuance; for, ere he hadbeen many minutes at his post, a door opened, and two light and timidforms glided out of the house.

"Thou hast not come alone, Martha," said the youth, half-displeased. "Itold thee that the matter I had to say was for thine own ear."

"It is our Ruth. Thou knowest, Mark, that she may not be left alone, forwe fear her return to the forest. She is like some ill-tamed fawn, thatwould be apt to leap away at the first well-known sound from the woods.Even now, I fear that we are too much asunder.

"Fear nothing; my sister fondles her infant, and she thinketh not offlight; thou seest I am here to intercept her, were such her intention.Now speak with candor, Martha, and say if thou meanest in sincerity thatthe visits of the Hartford gallant, were less to thy liking than most ofthy friends have believed?"

"What I have said cannot be recalled."

"Still it may be repented of."

"I do not number the dislike I may feel for the young man among myfailings. I am too happy, here, in this family, to wish to quit it.And now that our sister----there is one speaking to her at thismoment, Mark!"

"Tis only the innocent," returned the young man, glancing his eye to theother end of the piazza. "They confer often together. Whittal hath justcome in from the woods, whither he is much inclined to pass an hour ortwo, each evening. Thou wast saying that now we have our sister--?"

"I feel less desire to change my abode."

"Then why not stay with us for ever, Martha?"

"Hist!" interrupted his companion, who, though conscious of what she wasabout to listen to, shrunk, with the waywardness of human nature, from thevery declaration she most wished to hear, "hist--there was a movement. Ah!our Ruth and Whittal are fled!"

"They seek some amusement for the babe--they are near the out-buildings.Then why not accept a right to remain for ever----"

"It may not be, Mark," cried the girl wresting her hand from his grasp;"they are fled!"Mark reluctantly released his hold, and followed to the spot where hissister had been sitting. She was, in truth, gone; though, some minutespassed before even Martha seriously believed that she had disappearedwithout an intention of returning. The agitation of both rendered thesearch ill-directed and uncertain, and there was perhaps a secretsatisfaction in prolonging their interview even in this vague manner, thatprevented them for some time from giving the alarm. When that moment didcome, it was too late. The fields were examined, the orchards andout-houses thoroughly searched, without any traces of the fugitives. Itwould have been useless to enter the forest in the darkness, and all thatcould be done in reason, was to set a watch during the night, and toprepare for a more active and intelligent pursuit in the morning.

But, long before the sun arose, the small and melancholy party of thefugitives threaded the woods at such a distance from the valley, as wouldhave rendered the plan of the family entirely nugatory. Conanchet had ledthe way over a thousand forest knolls, across water-courses, and throughdark glens, followed by his silent partner, with an industry that wouldhave baffled the zeal of even those from whom they fled. Whittal Ring,bearing the infant on his back, trudged with unwearied step in the rear.Hours had passed in this manner, and not a syllable had been uttered byeither of the three. Once or twice, they had stopped at some spot wherewater, limpid as the air, gushed from the rocks; and, drinking from thehollows of their hands, the march had been resumed with the samespeechless industry as before.

At length Conanchet paused He studied the position of the sun, gravely,and took a long and anxious look at the signs of the forest, in order thathe might not be deceived in its quarter. To an unpractised eye, the archesof the trees, the leaf-covered path, and the mouldering logs, would haveseemed everywhere the same. But it was not easy to deceive one so trainedin the woods. Satisfied equally with the progress he had made, and withthe hour the chief signed to his two companions to place themselves at hisside, and took a seat on a low shelf of rock, that thrust its naked headout of the side of a hill.

For many minutes, after all were seated, no one broke the silence. The eyeof Narra-mattah sought the countenance of her husband, as the eye of womanseeks instruction from the expression of features that she has been taughtto revere; but still she spoke not. The innocent laid the patient babe atthe feet of its mother, and imitated her reserve.

"Is the air of the woods pleasant to the Honey-suckle, after living in thewigwam of her people?" asked Conanchet, breaking the long silence. "Can aflower, which blossomed in the sun, like the shade?"

"A woman of the Narragansetts is happiest in the lodge of her husband."

The eye of the chief met her confiding look with affection, and then itfell, mild and full of kindness, on the features of the infant that lay attheir feet. There was a minute, during which an expression of uttermelancholy gathered about his brow.

"The Spirit that made the earth," he continued, "is very cunning. He hasknown where to put the hemlock, and where the oak should grow. He has leftthe moose and the deer to the Indian hunter, and he has given the horseand the ox to a Pale-face. Each tribe hath its hunting-grounds, and itsgame. The Narragansetts know the taste of a clam, while the Mohawks eatthe berries of the mountains. Thou hast seen the bright bow which shinesin the skies, Narra-mattah, and knowest how one color is mixed withanother, like paint on a warrior's face. The leaf of the hemlock is likethe leaf of the sumach; the ash, the chestnut; the chestnut, the linden;and the linden, the broad-leaved tree which bears the red fruit, in theclearing of the Yengeese; but the tree of the red fruit is little like thehemlock! Conanchet is a tall and straight hemlock, and the father ofNarra-mattah is a tree of the clearing, that bears the red fruit. TheGreat Spirit was angry when they grew together."

The sensitive wife understood but too well the current of the chief'sthoughts. Suppressing the pain she felt, however, she answered with thereadiness of a woman whose imagination was quickened by her affections.

"What Conanchet hath said is true. But the Yengeese have put the apple oftheir own land on the thorn of our woods, and the fruit is good!"

"It is like that boy," said the chief, pointing to his son; "neither rednor pale. No, Narra-mattah; what the Great Spirit hath commanded, even aSachem must do."

"And doth Conanchet say this fruit is not good?" asked his wife, liftingthe smiling boy with a mother's joy before his eyes.

The heart of the warrior was touched. Bending his head, he kissed thebabe, with such fondness as parents less stern are wont to exhibit. For amoment, he appeared to have satisfaction in gazing at the promise of thechild. But, as he raised his head, his eye caught a glimpse of the sun,and the whole expression of his countenance changed. Motioning to hiswife to replace the infant on the earth, he turned to her with solemnity,and continued--

"Let the tongue of Narra-mattah speak without fear. She hath been in thelodges of her father, and hath tasted of their plenty. Is her heart glad?"

The young wife paused. The question brought with it a sudden recollectionof all those reviving sensations, of that tender solicitude, and of thosesoothing sympathies, of which she had so lately been the subject. Butthese feelings soon vanished; for, without daring to lift her eyes to meetthe attentive and anxious gaze of the chief, she said firmly, though witha voice that was subdued by diffidence--

"Narra-mattah is a wife."

"Then will she listen to the words of her husband. Conanchet is achief no longer. He is a prisoner of the Mohicans. Uncas waits for himin the woods!"

Notwithstanding the recent declaration of the young wife, she heard ofthis calamity with little of the calmness of an Indian woman. At first, itseemed as if her senses refused to comprehend the meaning of the words.Wonder, doubt, horror, and fearful certainty, each in its turn prevailed;for she was too well schooled in all the usages and opinions of the peoplewith whom she dwelt, not to understand the jeopardy in which her husbandwas placed.

"The Sachem of the Narragansetts a prisoner, of Mohican Uncas!" sherepeated in a low tone, as if the sound of her voice were necessary todispel some horrible illusion. "No! Uncas is not a warrior to strikeConanchet!"

"Hear my words," said the chief, touching the shoulder of his wife, asone arouses a friend from his slumbers. "There is a Pale-face in thesewoods who is a burrowing fox. He hides his head from the Yengeese. Whenhis people were on the trail, barking like hungry wolves, this mantrusted to a Sagamore. It was a swift chase, and my father is gettingvery old. He went up a young hickory, like a bear, and Conanchet led offthe lying tribe. But he is not a moose. His legs cannot go like runningwater, for ever!"

"And why did the great Narragansett give his life for a stranger?"

"The man is a brave;" returned the Sachem, proudly: "he took the scalp ofa Sagamore!"

Again Narra-mattah was silent. She brooded, in nearly stupid amazement, onthe frightful truth.

"The Great Spirit sees that the man and his wife are of different tribes,"she at length ventured to rejoin. "He wishes them to become the samepeople. Let Conanchet quit the woods, and go into the clearings with themother of his boy. Her white father will be glad, and Mohican Uncas willnot dare to follow."

"Woman, I am a Sachem and a warrior among my people!"

There was a severe and cold displeasure in the voice of Conanchet, thathis companion had never before heard. He spoke in the manner of a chief tohis woman, rather than with that manly softness with which he had beenaccustomed to address the scion of the Pale-faces. The words came over herheart like a withering chill, and affliction kept her mute. The chiefhimself sate a moment longer in a stern calmness, and then rising indispleasure, he pointed to the sun, and beckoned to his companions toproceed. In a time that appeared to the throbbing heart of her whofollowed his swift footsteps, but a moment, they had turned a littleeminence, and, in another minute, they stood in the presence of a partythat evidently awaited their coming. This grave group consisted only ofUncas, two of his fiercest-looking and most athletic warriors, the divine,and Eben Dudley.

Advancing rapidly to the spot where his enemy stood, Conanchet took hispost at the foot of the fatal tree. Pointing to the shadow, which had notyet turned towards the east, he folded his arms on his naked bosom, andassumed an air of haughty unconcern. These movements were made in themidst of a profound stillness.

Disappointment, unwilling admiration, and distrust, all struggled throughthe mask of practised composure, in the dark countenance of Uncas. Heregarded his long-hated and terrible foe, with an eye that seemed willingto detect some lurking signs of weakness. It would not have been easy tosay whether he most felt respect, or regret, at the faith of theNarragansett. Accompanied by his two grim warriors, the chief examined theposition of the shadow with critical minuteness, and when there no longerexisted a pretext for affecting to doubt the punctuality of their captive,a deep ejaculation of assent issued from the chest of each. Like some waryjudge, whose justice is fettered by legal precedents, as if satisfiedthere was no flaw in the proceedings, the Mohegan then signed to the whitemen to draw near.

"Man of a wild and unreclaimed nature!" commenced Meek Wolfe, in his usualadmonitory and ascetic tones, "the hour of thy existence draws to its end!Judgment hath had rule; thou hast been weighed in the balances, and artfound wanting. But Christian charity is never weary. We may not resist theordinances of Providence, but we may temper the blow to the offender. Thatthou art here to die, is a mandate decreed in equity, and rendered awfulby mystery; but further, submission to the will of Heaven doth not exact.Heathen, thou hast a soul, and it is about to leave its earthly tenementfor the unknown world----"

Until now, the captive had listened with the courtesy of a savage whenunexcited. He had even gazed at the quiet enthusiasm, and singularlycontradictory passions, that shone in the deep lines of the speaker'sface, with some such reverence as he might have manifested at anexhibition of one of the pretended revelations of a prophet of his tribe.But when the divine came to touch upon his condition after death, his mindreceived a clear, and to him an unerring, clue to the truth. Laying afinger suddenly on the shoulder of Meek, he interrupted him, by saying--

"My father forgets that the skin of his son is red. The path to the happyhunting-grounds of just Indians lies before him."

"Heathen, in thy words hath the Master Spirit of Delusion and Sin utteredhis blasphemies!"

"Hist!--Did my father see that which stirred the bush?"

"It was the viewless wind, idolatrous and idle-minded infant, in the formof adult man!"

"And yet my father speaks to it," returned the Indian, with the grave butcutting sarcasm of his people. "See," he added, haughtily, and even withferocity; "the shadow hath passed the root of the tree. Let the cunningman of the Pale-faces stand aside; a Sachem is ready to die!"

Meek groaned audibly, and in real sorrow; for, notwithstanding the veilwhich exalted theories and doctrinal subtleties had drawn before hisjudgment, the charities of the man were grounded in truth. Bowing to whathe believed to be a mysterious dispensation of the will of Heaven, hewithdrew to a short distance, and, kneeling on a rock, his voice washeard, during the remainder of the ceremonies lifting its tones in ferventprayer for the soul of the condemned.

The divine had no sooner quitted the place, than Uncas motioned to Dudleyto approach. Though the nature of the borderer was essentially honest andkind, he was, in opinions and prejudices, but a creature of the times. Ifhe had assented to the judgment which committed the captive to the mercyof his implacable enemies, he had the merit of having suggested theexpedient that was to protect the sufferer from those refinements incruelty which the savages were known to be too ready to inflict. He hadeven volunteered to be one of the agents to enforce his own expedient,though, in so doing, he had committed no little violence to his naturalinclinations. The reader will therefore judge of his conduct, in thisparticular, with the degree of lenity that a right consideration of thecondition of the country and of the usages of the age may require Therewas even a relenting and a yielding of purpose in the countenance of thiswitness of the scene, that was favorable to the safety of the captive, ashe now spoke. His address was first to Uncas.

"A happy fortune, Mohegan, something aided by the power of the white men,hath put this Narragansett into thy hands," he said. "It is certain thatthe Commissioners of the Colony have consented that thou shouldst exercisethy will on his life; but there is a voice in the breast of every humanbeing, which should be stronger than the voice of revenge, and that is thevoice of mercy. It is not yet too late to hearken to it Take the promiseof the Narragansett for his faith--take more, take a hostage in thischild, which with its mother shall be guarded among the English, and letthe prisoner go."

"My brother asketh with a big mind!" said Uncas, drily.

"I know not how nor why it is I ask with this earnestness," resumedDudley, "but there are old recollections and former kindnesses, in theface and manner of this Indian! And here, too, is one, in the woman, thatI know is tied to some of our settlements, with a bond nearer than that ofcommon charity--Mohegan, I will add a goodly gift of powder and ofmuskets, if thou wilt listen to mercy, and take the faith of theNarragansett."

Uncas pointed with ironical coldness to his captive, as he said--

"Let Conanchet speak!"

"Thou nearest, Narragansett. If the man I begin to suspect thee to be,thou knowest something of the usages of the whites. Speak; wilt swear tokeep peace with the Mohegans, and to bury the hatchet in the path betweenyour villages?"

"The fire that burnt the lodges of my people turned the heart of Conanchetto stone," was the steady answer.

"Then can I do no more than see the treaty respected," returned Dudley, indisappointment. "Thou hast thy nature, and it will have way. The Lord havemercy on thee, Indian, and render thee such judgment as is meet for one ofsavage opportunities."

He made a gesture to Uncas that he had done, and fell back a few pacesfrom the tree, his honest features expressing all his concern, while hiseye did not refuse to do its duty by closely watching each movement of theadverse parties. At the same instant, the grim attendants of the Moheganchief, in obedience to a sign, took their stations on each side of thecaptive. They evidently waited for the last and fatal signal, to completetheir unrelenting purpose. At this grave moment there was a pause, as ifeach of the principal actors pondered serious matter in his inmost mind.

"The Narragansett hath not spoken to his woman," said Uncas, secretlyhoping that his enemy might yet betray some unmanly weakness, in a momentof so severe trial. "She is near."

"I said my heart was stone;" coldly returned the Narragansett.

"See--the girl creepeth like a frightened fowl among the leaves. If mybrother Conanchet will look, he will see his beloved."

The countenance of Conanchet grew dark, but it did not waver.

"We will go among the bushes, if the Sachem is afraid to speak to hiswoman with the eyes of a Mohican on him. A warrior is not a curious girl,that he wishes to see the sorrow of a chief!"

Conanchet felt, hurriedly, for some weapon that might strike his enemy tothe earth, and then a low murmuring sound at his elbow stole so softly onhis ear, as suddenly to divert the tempest of passion.

"Will not a Sachem look at his boy?" demanded the suppliant. "It is theson of a great warrior: why is the face of his father so dark on him?"

Narrah-mattah had drawn near enough to her husband, to be within reach ofhis hand. With extended arms she held the pledge of their formerhappiness towards the chief, as if to beseech a last and kindly look ofrecognition and love.

"Will not the great Narragansett look at his boy?" she repeated, in avoice that sounded like the lowest notes of some touching melody. "Why ishis face so dark, on a woman of his tribe?"

Even the stern features of the Mohegan Sagamore showed that he wastouched. Beckoning to his grim attendants to move behind the tree, heturned and walked aside, with the noble air of a savage, when influencedby his better feelings. Then light shot into the clouded countenance ofConanchet. His eyes sought the face of his stricken and grieved consort,who mourned less for his danger than she grieved for his displeasure. Hereceived the boy from her hands, and studied his features long andintently. Beckoning to Dudley, who alone gazed on the scene, he placed theinfant in his arms.

"See!" he said, pointing to the child; "it is a blossom of the clearings.It will not live in the shade."

He then fastened a look on his trembling partner There was a husband'slove in the glance. "Flower of the open land!" he said; "the Manitou ofthy race will place thee in the fields of thy fathers. The sun will shineupon thee, and the winds from beyond the salt lake will blow the cloudsinto the woods. A Just and Great Chief cannot shut his ear to the GoodSpirit of his people. Mine calls his son to hunt among the braves thathave gone on the long path; thine points another way. Go, hear his voice,and obey. Let thy mind be like a wide clearing; let all its shadows benext the woods; let it forget the dream it dreamt among the trees. 'Tisthe will of the Manitou."

"Conanchet asketh much of his wife; her son is only the soul of a woman!"

"A woman of the Pale-faces; now let her seek her tribe. Narra-mattah, thypeople speak strange traditions. They say that one just man died for allcolors. I know not. Conanchet is a child among the cunning, and a man withthe warriors. If this be true, he will look for his woman and boy in thehappy hunting-grounds, and they will come to him. There is no hunter ofthe Yengeese that can kill so many deer. Let Narra-mattah forget her chieftill that time, and then, when she calls him by name, let her speakstrong, for he will be very glad to hear her voice again. Go; a Sagamoreis about to start on a long journey. He takes leave of his wife with aheavy spirit. She will put a little flower of two colors before her eyes,and be happy in its growth. Now let her go. A Sagamore is about to die."

The attentive woman caught each slow and measured syllable, as one trainedin superstitious legends would listen to the words of an oracle. But,accustomed to obedience and bewildered with her grief, she hesitated nolonger. The head of Narra-mattah sunk on her bosom, as she left him, andher face was buried in her robe. The step with which she passed Uncas wasso light as to be inaudible; but when he saw her tottering form, turningswiftly, he stretched an arm high in the air. The terrible mutes justshowed themselves from behind the tree, and vanished. Conanchet started,and it seemed as if he were about to plunge forward; but, recoveringhimself by a desperate effort, his body sunk back against the tree, and hefell in the attitude of a chief seated in council. There was a smile offierce triumph on his face, and his lips evidently moved. Uncas did notbreathe, as he bent forward to listen:--

"Mohican, I die before my heart is soft!" uttered firmly, but with astruggle, reached his ears. Then came two long and heavy respirations. Onewas the returning breath of Uncas, and the other the dying sigh of thelast Sachem of the broken and dispersed tribe of the Narragansetts.

"Each lonely scene shall thee restore;
For thee the tear be duly shed:
Beloved till life could charm no more,
And mourn'd till pity's self be dead."

Collins.

An hour later, and the principal actors in the foregoing scene haddisappeared. There remained only the widowed Narra-mattah, with Dudley,the divine, and Whittal Ring.

The body of Conanchet still continued, where he had died, seated like achief in council. The daughter of Content and Ruth had stolen to its side,and she had taken her seat, in that species of dull woe, which sofrequently attends the first moments of any unexpected and overwhelmingaffliction. She neither spoke, sobbed, nor sorrowed in anyway that griefis wont to affect the human system. The mind seemed palsied, though awithering sense of the blow was fearfully engraven on every lineament ofher eloquent face. The color had deserted her cheeks, the lips werebloodless, while, at moments, they quivered convulsively, like thetremulous movement of the sleeping infant; and, at long intervals, herbosom heaved, as if the spirit within struggled heavily to escape from itsearthly prison. The child lay unheeded at her side, and Whittal Ring hadplaced himself on the opposite side of the corpse.

The two agents, appointed by the Colony to witness the death of Conanchet,stood near, gazing mournfully on the piteous spectacle. The instant thespirit of the condemned man had fled, the prayers of the divine hadceased, for he believed that then the soul had gone to judgment. But therewas more of human charity, and less of that exaggerated severity in hisaspect, than was ordinarily seated in the deep lines of his austerecountenance. Now that the deed was done, and the excitement of his exaltedtheories had given way to the more positive appearance of the result, hemight even have moments of harassing doubts concerning the lawfulness ofan act that he had hitherto veiled under the forms of a legal andnecessary execution of justice. The mind of Eben Dudley vacillated withnone of the subtleties of doctrine or of law. As there had been lessexaggeration in his original views of the necessity of the proceeding, sowas there more steadiness in his contemplation of its fulfilment.Feelings, they might be termed emotions, of a different nature troubledthe breast of this resolute but justly-disposed borderer.

"This hath been a melancholy visitation of necessity, and a severemanifestation of the foreordering will," said the Ensign, as he gazed atthe sad spectacle before him. "Father and son have both died, as it were,in my presence, and both have departed for the world of spirits, in amanner to prove the inscrutableness of Providence. But dost not see, here,in the face of her who looketh like a form of stone, traces of acountenance that is familiar?"

"Thou hast allusion to the consort of Captain Content Heathcote?"

"Truly, to her only. Thou art not, reverend sir, of sufficient residenceat the Wish-Ton-Wish, to remember that lady in her youthfulness. But tome, the hour when the Captain led his followers into the wilderness,seemeth but as a morning of the past season. I was then active in limb,and something idle in reflection and discourse; it was in that journey,that the woman who is now the mother of my children and I first madeacquaintance. I have seen many comely females in my time, but never did Ilook on one so pleasant to the eye, as was the consort of the Captainuntil the night of the burning. Thou hast often heard the loss she thenmet, and, from that hour, her beauty hath been that of the October leafrather than its loveliness in the season of fertility. Now look on theface of this mourner, and say if there be not here such an image as thewater reflects from the overhanging bush. In verity, I could believe itwas the sorrowing eye and bereaved look of the mother herself!"

"Grief hath struck its blow heavily on this unoffending victim," utteredMeek, with great and subdued softness in his manner. "The voice ofpetition must be raised in her behalf, or----"

"Hist!--there are some in the forest; I hear the rustling of leaves!"

"The voice of him, who made the earth, whispereth in the winds; his breathis the movement of nature!"

"Here are living men!--But, happily, the meeting is friendly, and therewill be no further occasion for strife. The heart of a father is sure asready eye and swift foot."

Dudley suffered his musket to fall at his side, and both he and hiscompanion stood in attitudes of decent composure, to await the arrival ofthose who approached. The party that drew near, arrived on the side of thetree opposite to that on which the death of Conanchet had occurred. Theenormous trunk and swelling roots of the pine concealed the group at itsfeet, but the persons of Meek and the Ensign were soon observed. Theinstant they were discovered, he who led the new-comers bent his footstepsin that direction.

"If, as thou hast supposed, the Narragansett hath again led her thou hastso long mourned into the forest," said Submission, who acted as guide tothose who followed, "here are we, at no great distance from the place ofhis resort. It was near yon rock that he gave the meeting with thebloody-minded Philip, and the place where I received the boon of anuseless and much-afflicted life from his care, is within the bosom of thatthicket which borders the brook. This minister of the Lord, and our stoutfriend the Ensign, may have further matter to tell us of his movements."

The speaker had stopped within a short distance of the two he named, butstill on the side of the tree opposite to that where the body lay. He hadaddressed his words to Content, who also halted to await the arrival ofRuth, who came in the rear, supported by her son, and attended by Faithand the physician, all equipped like persons engaged in a search throughthe forest. A mother's heart had sustained the feeble woman for many aweary mile, but her steps had begun to drag, shortly before they sohappily fell upon the signs of human beings, near the spot where they nowmet the two agents of the Colony.

Notwithstanding the deep interest which belonged to the respectivepursuits of the individuals who composed these two parties, the interviewwas opened with no lively signs of feeling on either side. To them ajourney in the forest possessed no novelties, and after traversing itsmazes for a day, the newly-arrived encountered their friends, as men meeton more beaten tracks, in countries where roads unavoidably lead them tocross each other's paths. Even the appearance of Submission in front ofthe travellers, elicited no marks of surprise in the unmoved features ofthose who witnessed his approach. Indeed, the mutual composure of on whohad so long concealed his person, and of those who had more than once seenhim in striking and mysterious situations, might well justify a beliefthat the secret of his presence near the valley had not been confined tothe family of the Heathcotes. This fact is rendered still more probable,by the recollection of the honesty of Dudley, and of the professionalcharacters of the two others.

"We are on the trail of one fled, as the truant fawn seeketh again thecovers of the woods," said Content. "Our hunt was uncertain, and it mighthave been vain, so many feet have lately crossed the forest, were it notthat Providence hath cast our route on that of our friend, here, who hathhad reason to know the probable situation of the Indian camp. Hast seenaught of the Sachem of the Narragansetts, Dudley? and where are those thouled'st against the subtle Philip? That thou fell upon his party, we haveheard; though further than thy general success, we have yet to learn. TheWampanoag escaped thee?"

"The wicked agencies that back him in his designs, profited the savage inhis extremity. Else would his fate have been that which I fear a farworthier spirit hath been doomed to suffer."

"Of whom dost speak?--but it mattereth not We seek our child; she, whomthou hast known, and whom thou hast so lately seen, hath again left us. Weseek her in the camp of him who hath been to her--Dudley, hast seen aughtof the Narragansett Sachem?"

The Ensign looked at Ruth, as he had once before been seen to gaze on-thesorrowing features of the woman; but he spoke not. Meek folded his arms onhis breast, and seemed to pray inwardly. There was, however, one who brokethe silence, though his tones were low and menacing.

"It was a bloody deed!" muttered the innocent. "The lying Mohican hathstruck a Great Chief, from behind. Let him dig the prints of his moccasonfrom the earth, with his nails, like a burrowing fox: for there'll be oneon his trail, before he can hide his head. Nipset will be a warrior thenext snow!"

"There speaks my witless brother!" exclaimed Faith, rushing ahead--sherecoiled, covered her face with her hands, and sunk upon the ground, underthe violence of the surprise that followed.

Though time moved with his ordinary pace, it appeared to those whowitnessed the scene which succeeded, as if the emotions of many days werecollected within the brief compass of a few minutes. We shall not dwell onthe first harrowing and exciting moments of the appalling discovery.

A short half-hour served to make each person acquainted with all that itwas necessary to know. We shall therefore transfer the narrative to theend of that period.

The body of Conanchet still rested against the tree. The eyes were open,and though glazed in death, there still remained about the brow, thecompressed lips, and the expansive nostrils, much of that lofty firmnesswhich had sustained him in the last trial of life. The arms were passiveat its sides, but one hand was clenched in the manner with which it had sooften grasped the tomahawk, while the other had lost its power in a vaineffort to seek the place in the girdle where the keen knife should havebeen. These two movements had probably been involuntary, for, in all otherrespects, the form was expressive of dignity and repose. At its side, theimaginary Nipset still held his place menacing discontent betraying itselfthrough the ordinary dull fatuity of his countenance.

The others present were collected around the mother and her strickenchild. It would seem that all other feelings were, for the moment,absorbed in apprehensions for the latter. There was much reason to dread,that the recent shock had suddenly deranged some of that fearful machinerywhich links the soul to the body. This dreaded effect, however, was moreto be apprehended by a general apathy and failing of the system, than byany violent and intelligible symptom.

The pulses still vibrated, but it was heavily, and like the irregular andfaltering evolutions of the mill, which the dying breeze is ceasing tofan. The pallid countenance was fixed in its expression of anguish. Colorthere was none, even the lips resembling the unnatural character which isgiven by images of wax. Her limbs, like her features, were immovable; andyet there was, at moments, a working of the latter, which would seem toimply not only consciousness, but vivid and painful recollections of therealities of her situation.

"This surpasseth my art," said Doctor Ergot, raising himself from a longand silent examination of the pulse; "there is a mystery in theconstruction of the body, which human knowledge hath not yet unveiled. Thecurrents of existence are sometimes frozen in an incomprehensible manner,and this I conceive to be a case that would confound the most learned ofour art, even in the oldest countries of the earth. It hath been myfortune to see many arrive and but few depart from this busy world, andyet do I presume to foretell that here is one destined to quit its limitsere the natural number of her days has been filled!"

"Let us address ourselves, in behalf of that which shall never die, to Himwho hath ordered the event from the commencement of time," said Meek,motioning to those around him to join in prayer.

The divine then lifted up his voice, under the arches of the forest, inan ardent, pious, and eloquent petition. When this solemn duty wasperformed, attention was again bestowed on the sufferer. To the surpriseof all, it was found that the blood had revisited her face, and that herradiant eyes were lighted with an expression of brightness and peace. Sheeven motioned to be raised, in order that those near her person might bebetter seen.

"Dost know us?" asked the trembling Ruth. "Look on thy friends,long-mourned and much-suffering daughter! 'Tis she who sorrowed over thyinfant afflictions, who rejoiced in thy childish happiness, and who hathso bitterly wept thy loss, that craveth the boon. In this awful moment,recall the lessons of youth. Surely, surely, the God that bestowed thee inmercy, though he hath led thee on a wonderful and inscrutable path, willnot desert thee at the end! Think of thy early instruction, child of mylove; feeble of spirit as thou art, the seed may yet quicken, though ithath been cast where the glory of the promise hath so long been hid."

"Mother!" said a low struggling voice in reply The word reached every ear,and it caused a general and breathless attention. The sound was soft andlow, perhaps infantile, but it was uttered without accent, and clearly.

"Mother--why are we in the forest?" continued the speaker. "Have anyrobbed us of our home, that we dwell beneath the trees?"

Ruth raised a hand imploringly, for none to interrupt the illusion.

"Nature hath revived the recollections of her youth," she whispered. "Letthe spirit-depart, if such be his holy will, in the blessedness of infantinnocence!"

"Why do Mark and Martha stay?" continued the other. "It is not safe, thouknowest, mother, to wander far in the woods; the heathen may be out oftheir towns, and one cannot say what evil chance might happen to theindiscreet."

A groan struggled from the chest of Content, and the muscular hand ofDudley compressed itself on the shoulder of his wife, until thebreathlessly attentive woman withdrew, unconsciously, with pain.

"I've said as much to Mark, for he doth not always remember thywarnings, mother; and those children do so love to wander together!--butMark is, in common, good; do not chide, if he stray too far--mother,thou wilt not chide!"

The youth turned his head, for even at that moment, the pride of youngmanhood prompted him to conceal his weakness.

"Hast prayed to-day, my daughter?" said Ruth, struggling to be composed."Thou shouldst not forget thy duty to His blessed name, even though we arehouseless in the woods."

"I will pray now, mother," said the creature of this mysterioushallucination, struggling to bow her face into the lap of Ruth. Her wishwas indulged, and for a minute, the same low childish voice was hearddistinctly repeating the words of a prayer adapted to the earliest periodof life. Feeble as were the sounds, none of their intonations escaped thelisteners, until near the close, when a species of holy calm seemed toabsorb the utterance. Ruth raised the form of her child, and saw that thefeatures bore the placid look of a sleeping infant. Life played upon them,as the flickering light lingers on the dying torch. Her dove-like eyeslooked up into the face of Ruth, and the anguish of the mother wasalleviated by a smile of intelligence and love. The full and sweet organsnext rolled from face to face, recognition and pleasure accompanying eachchange. On Whittal they became perplexed and doubtful, but when they metthe fixed, frowning, and still commanding eye of the dead chief, theirwandering ceased for ever. There was a minute, during which, fear, doubt,wildness, and early recollections, struggled for the mastery. The hands ofNarra-mattah trembled, and she clung convulsively to the robe of Ruth.

"Mother!--mother!--" whispered the agitated victim of so many conflictingemotions, "I will pray again--an evil Spirit besets me."

Ruth felt the force of her grasp, and heard the breathing of a few wordsof petition; after which the voice was mute, and the hands relaxed theirhold. When the face of the nearly insensible parent was withdrawn, to theothers the dead appeared to gaze at each other with a mysterious andunearthly intelligence. The look of the Narragansett was still, as in hishour of pride, haughty, unyielding, and filled with defiance; while thatof the creature who had so long lived in his kindness was perplexed,timid, but not without a character of hope. A solemn calm succeeded, andwhen Meek raised his voice again in the forest, it was to ask theOmnipotent Ruler of Heaven and Earth to sanctify his dispensation to thosewho survived.

The changes which have been wrought, on this continent, within a centuryand a half, are very wonderful. Cities have appeared where the wildernessthen covered the ground, and there is good reason to believe that aflourishing town now stands on, or near, the spot where Conanchet met hisdeath. But, notwithstanding so much activity has prevailed in the country,the valley of this legend remains but little altered. The hamlet hasincreased to a village; the farms possess more of the air of cultivation;the dwellings are enlarged, and are somewhat more commodious; thechurches are increased to three; the garrisoned houses, and all othersigns of apprehension from violence, have long since disappeared; butstill the place is secluded, little known, and strongly impressed with themarks of its original sylvan character.

A descendant of Mark and Martha is, at this hour, the proprietor of theestate on which so many of the moving incidents of our simple tale wereenacted. Even the building which was the second habitation of hisancestor, is in part standing, though additions and improvements havegreatly changed its form. The orchards, which in 1675 were young andthrifty, are now old and decaying. The trees have yielded their characterfor excellence, to those varieties of the fruit which the soil and theclimate have since made known to the inhabitants. Still they stand, for itis known that fearful scenes occurred beneath their shades, and there is adeep moral interest attached to their existence.

The ruins of the block-house, though much dilapidated and crumbling, arealso, visible. At their foot is the last abode of all the Heathcotes whohave lived and died in that vicinity, for near two centuries. The gravesof those of later times are known by tablets of marble: but nearer to theruin are many, whose monuments, half-concealed in the grass, are cut inthe common coarse free-stone of the country.

One, who took an interest in the recollection of days long gone, hadoccasion a few years since to visit the spot. It was easy to trace thebirths and deaths of generations, by the visible records on the morepretending monuments of those interred within a hundred years. Beyond thatperiod, research became difficult and painful. But his zeal was not to beeasily defeated.

To every little mound, one only excepted, there was a stone, and on eachstone, illegible as it might be, there was an inscription. Theundistinguished grave, it was presumed, by its size and its position, wasthat which contained the bones of those who fell in the night of theburning. There was another, which bore, in deep letters, the name of thePuritan. His death occurred in 1680. At its side there was an humblestone, on which, with great difficulty, was traced the single word'Submission.' It was impossible to ascertain whether the date was 1680, or1690. The same mystery remained about the death of this man, as hadclouded so much of his life. His real name, parentage, or character,further than they have been revealed in these pages, was never traced.There still remains, however, in the family of the Heathcotes, anorderly-book of a troop of horse, which tradition says had some connexionwith his fortunes. Affixed to this defaced and imperfect document, is afragment of some diary or journal, which has reference to the condemnationof Charles I. to the scaffold.

The body of Content lay near his infant children, and it would seem thathe still lived in the first quarter of the last century. There was an agedman, lately in existence, who remembers to have seen him, a white-headedpatriarch, reverend by his years, and respected for his meekness andjustice. He had passed nearly, or quite, half-a-century unmarried. Thismelancholy fact was sufficiently shown by the date on the stone of thenearest mound. The inscription denoted it to be the grave of "Ruth,daughter of George Harding of the Colony of Massachusetts Bay, and wife ofCapt. Content Heathcote." She died in the autumn of 1675, with, as thestone reveals, "a spirit broken for the purposes of earth, by much familyaffliction, though with hopes justified by the covenant and her faith inthe Lord."

The divine, who lately officiated, if he do not now officiate, in theprincipal church of the village, is called the reverend Meek Lamb. Thoughclaiming a descent from him who ministered in the temple at the period ofour tale, time and intermarriages have produced this change in the name,and happily some others in doctrinal interpretations of duty. When thisworthy servant of the church found the object which had led one born inanother state and claiming descent from a line of religionists who hadleft the common country of their ancestors to worship in still anothermanner, to take an interest in the fortunes of those who first inhabitedthe valley, he found a pleasure in aiding the inquiries. The abodes of theDudleys and Rings were numerous in the village and its environs. He showeda stone, surrounded by many others that bore these names, on which wasrudely carved, "I am Nipset, a Narragansett; the next snow, I shall be awarrior!" There is a rumor, that though the hapless brother of Faithgradually returned to the ways of civilized life, he had frequent glimpsesof those seducing pleasures which he had once enjoyed in the freedom ofthe woods.

Whilst wandering through these melancholy remains of former scenes, aquestion was put to the divine concerning the place where Conanchet wasinterred. He readily offered to show it. The grave was on the hill, anddistinguished only by a head-stone that the grass had concealed fromformer search. It merely bore the words--"the Narragansett."

"And this at its side?" asked the inquirer. "Here is one also,before unnoted."

The divine bent in the grass, and scraped the moss from the humblemonument. He then pointed to a line, carved with more than usual care. Theinscription simply said--

"The Wept of Wish-Ton-Wish."