MICAH MUMMYCHOG.
About ten years before the period when this narrative begins, Micah
Mummychog had come to this country from the Kennebec River, in the
State of Maine.
He soon purchased a dozen acres of land, partially cleared them, and
built a large-sized, comfortable log house. It was situated not far
from the Dubois house, at a short distance from the bank of the river,
and on the edge of a grove of forest trees.
Micah inhabited his house usually only a few months during the year,
as he was a cordial lover of the unbroken wilderness, and was as
migratory in his habits as the native Indian. On the morning after the
events related in the last chapter, he happened to be at home. While
Adèle was guiding the missionary to his cottage, he was sitting in his
kitchen, which also served for a general reception room, burnishing up
an old Dutch fowling-piece.
The apartment was furnished with cooking utensils, and coarse wooden
furniture; the walls hung around with fishing tackle, moose-horns,
skins of wild animals and a variety of firearms.
Micah was no common, stupid, bumpkin-looking person. Belonging to the
genus Yankee, he had yet a few peculiar traits of his own. He had a
smallish, bullet-shaped head, set, with dignified poise, on a pair of
wide, flat shoulders. His chest was broad and swelling, his limbs
straight, muscular, and strong. His eyes were large, round, and blue.
When his mind was in a state of repose and his countenance at rest,
they had a solemn, owl-like expression. But when in an excited,
observant mood, they were keen and searching; and human orbs surely
never expressed more rollicking fun than did his, in his hours of
recreation. He had a habit of darting them around a wide circle of
objects, without turning his head a hairsbreadth. This, together with
another peculiarity of turning his head, occasionally, at a sharp
angle, with the quick and sudden motion of a cat, probably was
acquired in his hunting life.
Micah had never taken to himself a helpmate, and as far as mere
housekeeping was concerned, one would judge, on looking around the
decent, tidy apartment in which he sat and of which he had the sole
care, that he did not particularly need one. He washed, scoured,
baked, brewed, swept and dusted as deftly as any woman, and did it all
as a matter of course. These were, however, only his minor
accomplishments. He commanded the highest wages in the lumber camp,
was the best fisherman to be found in the region, and had the good
luck of always bringing down any game he had set his heart upon.
Micah had faults, but let these pass for the present. There was one
achievement of his, worthy of all praise.
It was remarked, that the loggery was situated on the edge of a grove.
This grove, when Micah came, was "a piece of woods", of the densest
and most tangled sort. By his strong arm, it had been transformed into
a scene of exceeding beauty. He had cut away the under growth and
smaller trees, leaving the taller sons of the forest still rising
loftily and waving their banners toward heaven. It formed a
magnificent natural temple, and as the sun struck in through the long,
broad aisles, soft and rich were the lights and shadows that flickered
over the green floor. The lofty arches, formed by the meeting and
interlaced branches above, were often resonant with music. During the
spring and summer months, matin worship was constantly performed by a
multitudinous choir, and praises were chanted by tiny-throated
warblers, raising their notes upon the deep, organ base, rolled into
the harmony by the grand old pines.
It is true, that hardly a human soul worshipped here, but when the "Te
Deum" rose toward heaven, thousands of blue, pink, and white blossoms
turned their eyes upward wet with dewy moisture, the hoary mosses
waved their tresses, the larches shook their tassels gayly, the
birches quivered and thrilled with joy in every leaf, and the rivulets
gurgled forth a silvery sound of gladness. On this particular
September morning Micah's grove was radiant with beauty. The wild
equinoctial storm, which had so fiercely assailed it the day before,
had brightened it into fresh verdure and now it glittered in the
sunbeams as if bejewelled with emerald.
Mr. Norton and Adèle reached the cottage door, on which she tapped
softly.
"Come in", Micah almost shouted, without moving from his seat or
looking up from his occupation.
The maiden opened the door, and said, "Good morning, Micah".
At the sound of her voice he rose instantly and handing a chair into
the middle of the floor, said, "O! come in, Miss Ady; I didn't know ez
it was yeou".
"I cannot stop now, Micah, but here is a gentleman who has a little
business with you. I came to show him the way. This is Mr. Norton".
And away Adèle sped, without farther ceremony.
Micah looked after her for a moment, with a half smile on his
weather-beaten face, then turned and motioning Mr. Norton to a chair,
reseated himself on a wooden chest, with his gun, upon which he again
commenced operations, his countenance setting into its usual owl-like
solemnity.
He was not courtly in his reception of strangers. The missionary,
however, had dealt with several varieties of the human animal before,
and was by no means disturbed at this nonchalance.
"I believe you are from the States, as well as myself, Mr. Mummychog",
said he, after a short silence.
"I'm from the Kennebec River", said Micah, laconically.
"I am quite extensively acquainted in that region, but do not remember
to have heard your name before. It is rather an uncommon one".
"I guess ye won't find many folks in them parts, ez is called
Mummychog", said Micah, with a twinkle of the eye and something like a
grin, on his sombre visage.
"You've a snug place here, Mr. Micah", said Mr. Norton, who, having
found some difficulty in restraining a smile, when repeating Mr.
Mummychog's surname, concluded to drop it altogether, "but what could
have induced you to leave the pleasant Kennebec and come to this
distant spot?"
"Well, I cam' to git a chance and be somwhere, where I could jest be
let alone".
"A chance for what, Mr. Micah?"
"Why, hang it, a chance to live an' dew abeout what I want tew. The
moose an' wolves an' wildcats hev all ben hunted eout o' that kentry.
Thar wa'nt no kind ev a chance there. So I cam' here".
"You have a wife, I suppose, Mr. Micah?"
"Wife! no. Do ye spose I want to hev a woman kep' skeered a most to
death abeout me, all the time? I'm a fishin' an' huntin good part o'
the year. Wild beasts and sech, is what I like".
"Don't you feel lonely here, sometimes, Mr. Micah?"
"Lunsum! no. There's plenty o' fellers reound here, all the time.
They're a heowlin' set tew, ez ever I see".
"You have a good gun there", suggested the missionary.
"Well, tolable", said Micah, looking up for the first time since Mr.
Norton had entered the house, and scanning him from head to foot with
his keen, penetrating glance. "I spose you aint much used to
firearms?"
"I have some acquaintance with them; but my present vocation don't
require their use".
Here Mr. Mummychog rose, and laying his gun on the table, scratched
his head, turned toward Mr. Norton and said, "Hev yeou any pertikilar
business with me?"
"Yes sir, I have. I came to Miramichi to accomplish an important
object, and I don't know of another person who can help me about it so
well as you can".
"Well, I dunno. What upon arth is it?"
"To be plain upon the point", said the missionary, looking serious and
earnest, "I have come here to preach the gospel of Christ".
"Whew! religin, is it? I can tell ye right off, its no go en these ere
parts".
"Don't you think a little religion is needed here, Mr. Micah?"
"Well, I dunno. Taint _wanted_. Folks ez lives here, can't abide
sermans and prayers en that doleful stuff".
"You say you came here for a chance, Mr. Micah. I suppose your friends
came for the same purpose. Now, I have come to show them, not a
_chance_, but a glorious certainty for happiness in this world and in
the eternity beyond".
"Well, they don't want tew know anything abeout it. They just want tew
be let alone", said Micah.
"I suppose they do wish to be let alone", said Mr. Norton. "But I
cannot permit them to go down to wretchedness and sorrow unwarned. You
have influence with your friends here, Mr. Micah. If you will collect
the men, women, and children of this neighborhood together, some
afternoon, in your beautiful grove, I will promise to give them not a
long sermon, but something that will do them good to hear".
"I can't dew it no heow. There's ben preachers along here afore, an'
a few 'ud go eout o' curiosity, an' some to make a disturbance an'
sech, an' it never 'meounts to anything, no heow. Then sposin we haint
dun jest as we'd oughter, who'se gin _yeou_ the right tew twit us on
it?"
"I certainly have no right, on my own responsibility, to reproach you,
or your friends for sin, for I am a sinful man myself and have daily
need of repentance. But I trust I have found out a way of redemption
from guilt, and I wish to communicate it to my fellow-beings that they
also may have knowledge of it, and fly to Christ, their only safety
and happiness in this world".
Micah made no reply.
There was a pause of several minutes, and then the missionary rose and
said, "Well, Mr. Micah, if you can't help me, you can't. The little
maiden that came with me, told me you could render me aid, if any one
could, and from what she said, I entertained a hope of your
assistance. The Lord will remove the obstacles to proclaiming this
salvation in some way, I know".
"Miss Ady didn't say I could help ye neow, did she?" said Micah,
scratching his head.
"Certainly. Why did she bring me here?"
"Well, ef that aint tarnal queer", said Micah, falling into a deep
reverie.
In a few moments, Mr. Norton shook his new acquaintance heartily by
the hand and bade him good morning. Was the good man discouraged in
his efforts? By no means.
He had placed in the mind of Micah Mummychog a small fusee, so to
speak, which he foresaw would fire a whole train of discarded ideas
and cast-off thoughts, and he expected to hear from it.
He filled up the day with a round of calls upon the various families
of the neighborhood, and came home to his lodgings at Mr. Dubois's
with his heart overwhelmed by the ignorance and debasement he had
witnessed.
Yet his courage and hopes were strong.