"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 in
civilized warfare would be called parties of observation, lingered in the
skirts of the forest nearest to the village; and the settlers still stood
to their arms, posted among the buildings, or maintaining their array at
the foot of the palisadoes. Though the toil of securing the valuables
continued, it was evident that, as the first terrors of alarm had
disappeared, the owners of the hamlet began to regain some assurance in
their ability to make it good against their enemies. Even the women were
now seen moving through its grassy street with greater seeming confidence,
and there was a regularity in the air of the armed men, which denoted a
determination that was calculated to impose on their wild and
undisciplined assailants.
But the dwelling, the out-buildings, and all the implements of domestic
comfort, which had so lately contributed to the ease of the Heathcotes,
were completely in the possession of the Indians. The open shutters and
doors, the scattered and half-destroyed furniture, the air of devastation
and waste, and the general abandonment of all interest in the protection
of the property, proclaimed the licentious disorder of a successful
assault. Still the work of destruction and plunder did not go on.
Although here and there might be seen some warrior, decorated, according
to the humors of his savage taste, with the personal effects of the
former inmates of the building, every hand had been checked, and the
furious tempers of the conquerors had been quieted, seemingly by the
agency of some unseen and extraordinary authority. The men, who so lately
had been moved by the fiercest passions of our nature, were suddenly
restrained if not appeased; and, instead of that exulting indulgence of
vengeance which commonly accompanies an Indian triumph, the warriors
stalked about the buildings and through the adjacent grounds, in a
silence which, though gloomy and sullen, was marked by their
characteristic submission to events.
The principal leaders of the inroad, and all the surviving sufferers by
the defeat, were assembled in the piazza of the dwelling. Ruth, pale,
sorrowing, and mourning for others rather than for herself, stood a little
apart, attended by Martha and the young assistant, whose luckless fortune
it was to be found at her post, on this eventful day. Content, the
stranger, and Mark, were near, subdued and bound, the sole survivors of
all that band they had so recently led into the conflict. The gray hairs
and bodily infirmities of the Puritan spared him the same degradation. The
only other being present, of European origin, was Whittal Ring. The
innocent stalked slowly among the prisoners, sometimes permitting ancient
recollections and sympathies to come over his dull intellect, but oftener
taunting the unfortunate with the injustice of their race, and with the
wrongs of his adopted people.
The chiefs of the successful party stood in the centre, apparently engaged
in some grave deliberation. As they were few in number, it was evident
that the council only included men of the highest importance. Chiefs of
inferior rank, but of great names in the limited renown of those simple
tribes, conversed in knots among the trees, or paced the court at a
respectful distance from the consultation of their superiors.
The least practised eye could not mistake the person of him on whom the
greatest weight of authority had fallen. The turbaned warrior, already
introduced in these pages, occupied the centre of the group, in the calm
and 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 axe
were returned to his girdle He had thrown a light blanket, or it might be
better termed a robe of scarlet cloth, over his left shoulder, whence it
gracefully fell in folds, leaving the whole of the right arm free, and
most of his ample chest exposed to view. From beneath this mantle, blood
fell slowly in drops, dying the floor on which he stood. The countenance
of this warrior was grave, though there was a quickness in the movements
of an ever-restless eye, that denoted great mental activity, no less than
the disquiet of suspicion. One skilled in physiognomy might too have
thought, that a shade of suppressed discontent was struggling with the
self-command of habits that had become part of the nature of the
individual.
The two companions nearest this chief were, like himself, men past the
middle age, and of mien and expression that were similar, though less
strikingly marked; neither showing those signs of displeasure, which
occasionally shot from organs that, in spite of a mind so trained and so
despotic, could not always restrain their glittering brightness. One was
speaking, and by his glance, it was evident that the subject of his
discourse was the fourth and last of their number, who had placed himself
in 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 who
had confronted Mark, and whose rapid movement on the flank of Dudley had
first driven the Colonists from the meadows. The eloquent expression of
limb, the tension of sinews, and the compression of muscles, as last
exhibited, were now gone. They had given place to the peculiar repose that
distinguishes the Indian warrior in his moments of inaction, quite as much
as 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 the
other, 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 other
covering than that in which he had fought, and, unlike his more aged
companion in authority, his body had escaped without a wound.
In form and in features, this young warrior might be deemed a model of
the excellence of Indian manhood. The limbs were full, round, faultlessly
straight, and distinguished by an appearance of extreme activity, without
being equally remarkable for muscle. In the latter particular, in the
upright attitude, and in the distant and noble gaze which so often
elevated his front, there was a close affinity to the statue of the
Pythian Apollo; while in the full, though slightly effeminate chest,
there was an equal resemblance to that look of animal indulgence, which
is to be traced in the severe representations of Bacchus. This
resemblance however to a Deity that is little apt to awaken lofty
sentiments in the spectator, was not displeasing, since it in some
measure relieved the sternness of an eye that penetrated like the glance
of the eagle, and that might otherwise have left an impression of too
little sympathy with the familiar weaknesses of humanity. Still the young
chief was less to be remarked by this peculiar fullness of chest, the
fruit of intervals of inaction, constant indulgence of the first wants of
nature, and a total exemption from toil, than most of those, who either
counselled in secret near, or paced the grounds about the building. In
him, it was rather a point to be admired, than a blemish; for it seemed
to say, that notwithstanding the evidences of austerity which custom, and
perhaps character, as well as rank, had gathered in his air, there was a
heart beneath that might be touched by the charities of humanity. On the
present occasion, the glances of his roving eye, though searching and
full of meaning, were evidently weakened by an expression that betrayed a
strange and unwonted confusion of mind.
The conference of the three was ended, and the warrior with a turbaned
head advanced towards his captives, with the step of a man whose mind had
come to a decision. As the dreaded chief drew near, Whittal retired,
stealing to the side of the younger warrior, in a manner that denoted
greater familiarity and perhaps greater confidence. A sudden thought
lighted the countenance of the latter. He led the innocent to the
extremity of the piazza, spoke low and earnestly, pointing to the forest,
and when he saw that his messenger was already crossing the fields, at the
top of his speed, he moved, with calm dignity, into the centre of the
group, taking his station so near his friend, that the folds of the
scarlet blanket brushed his elbows Until this movement, the silence was
not broken. When the great chief felt the passage of the other, he glanced
a look of hesitation at his friends, but resuming his former air of
composure, he spoke:
"Man of many winters," he commenced, in an English that was quite
intelligible, while it betrayed a difficulty of speech we shall not
attempt imitating, "why hath the Great Spirit made thy race like hungry
wolves?--why hath a Pale-face the stomach of a buzzard, the throat of a
hound, 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 a
Yengeese so big, that it must hold all that lies between the rising and
the setting sun? Speak, for we would know the reason, why arms so long are
found on so little bodies?"
The events of that day had been of a nature to awaken all the latent
energies of the Puritan. He had lifted up his spirit, with the morning,
in the customary warmth with which he ever hailed the Sabbath; the
excitement of the assault had found him sustained above most earthly
calamities, and while it quickened feelings that can never become extinct
in one who has been familiar with martial usages, it left him, stern in
his manhood, and exalted in his sentiments of submission and endurance.
Under such influences, he answered with an austerity that equalled the
gravity 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 shall
come good; and from this triumph of the ignorant shall proceed an
everlasting victory!"
The chief gazed intently at the speaker, whose attenuated frame, venerable
face, and long locks, aided by the hectic of enthusiasm that played
beneath a glazed and deep-set eye, imparted a character that seemed to
rise superior to human weakness. Bending his head in superstitious
reverence, he turned gravely to those who, appearing to possess more of
the world in their natures, were more fitting subjects for the designs he
meditated.
"The mind of my father is strong, but his body is like a branch of the
scorched hemlock!" was the pithy declaration with which he prefaced his
next remark. "Why is this?" he continued, looking severely at the three
who had so lately been opposed to him in deadly contest. "Here are men
with skins like the blossom of the dog-wood, and yet their hands are so
dark that I cannot see them!"
"They have been blackened by toil, beneath a burning sun," returned
Content, who knew how to discourse in the figurative language of the
people in whose power he found himself. "We have labored, that our women
and 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 hath
given might still be ours, and that our scalps might not be blown about in
the smoke of a wigwam. Would a Narragansett hide his arms, and tie up his
hands, with the war-whoop ringing in his ears?"
When allusion was made to the ownership of the valley, the blood rushed
into the cheek of the warrior in such a flood, that it it deepened even
the natural swarthy hue; but, clenching the handle of his axe
convulsively, he continued to listen, like one accustomed to entire
self-command.
"What a red man does may be seen," he answered, pointing with a grim smile
towards the orchard; exposing, by the movement of the blanket, as he
raised his arm, two of the reeking trophies of victory attached to his
belt. "Our ears are open very wide. We listen, to hear in what manner the
hunting-grounds of the Indian have become the plowed fields of the
Yengeese. Now let my wise men hearken, that they may grow more cunning, as
the snows settle on their heads. The pale-men have a secret to make the
black seem white!"
"Narragansett----"
"Wampanoag!" interrupted the chief, with the lofty air with which an
Indian identifies himself with the glory of his people--then glancing a
milder look at the young warrior at his elbow, he added, hastily, and in
the tone of a courtier: "'tis very good--Narragansett, or
Wampanoag--Wampanoag or Narragansett. The red men are brothers and
friends. They have broken down the fences between their hunting-grounds,
and they have cleared the paths, between their villages, of briars. What
have you to say to the Narragansett?--he has not yet shut his ear."
"Wampanoag, if such be thy tribe," resumed Content, "thou shalt hear that
which my conscience teacheth is language to be uttered. The God of an
Englishman is the God of men of all ranks, and of all time." His listeners
shook their heads doubtingly, with the exception of the youngest chief,
whose eye never varied its direction while the other spoke, each word
appearing to enter deep within the recesses of his mind. "In defiance of
these 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 the
deeds, and searcheth, with inscrutable knowledge, into, the hearts of
both. This earth is his footstool; yonder heaven his throne! I pretend not
to enter into his sacred mysteries, or to proclaim the reason why one-half
of his fair work hath been so long left in that slough of ignorance and
heathenish abomination in which my fathers found it; why these hills never
before echoed the songs of praise or why the valleys have been so long
mute. 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 and
righteous spirit hath led hither men, filled with the love of truth and
pregnant with the designs of a heavily-burthened faith, inasmuch as their
longings are for things pure, while the consciousness of their
transgressions bends them in deep humility to the dust. Thou bringest
against us the charge of coveting thy lands, and of bearing minds filled
with the corruption of riches This cometh of ignorance of that which hath
been abandoned, in order that the spirit of the godly might hold fast to
the truth. When the Yengeese came into this wilderness, he left behind him
all that can delight the eye, please the senses, and feed the longing of
the human heart, in the country of his fathers: for fair as is the work of
the Lord in other lands, there is none that is so excellent as that from
which these pilgrims in the wilderness have departed. In that favored
isle, the earth groaneth with the abundance of its products; the odors of
its sweet savors salute the nostrils, and the eye is never wearied in
gazing at its loveliness.--No: the men of the Pale-faces have deserted
home, and all that sweeteneth life, that they might serve God; and not at
the instigations of craving minds, or of evil vanities!"
Content paused, for as he grew warm with the spirit by which he was
animated, he had insensibly strayed from the closer points of his subject.
His conquerors maintained the decorous gravity with which an Indian always
listens to the speech of another, until he had ended; and then the Great
Chief, or Wampanoag, as he had proclaimed himself to be, laid a finger
lightly on the shoulder of his prisoner, as he demanded--
"Why have the people of the Yengeese lost themselves on a blind path? If
the country they have left is pleasant, cannot their God hear then from
the wigwams of their fathers? See--if our trees are but bushes, leave them
to the red man he will find room beneath their branches to lie in the
shade. If our rivers are small, it is because the Indians are little. If
the hills are low and the valleys narrow, the legs of my people are weary
with much hunting, and they will journey among them the easier. Now what
the Great Spirit hath made for a red man, a red man should keep. They
whose skins are like the light of the morning should go back towards the
rising 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 in
the subtleties of controversy, according to the fashion of the people to
whom he belonged.
"God hath otherwise decreed," said Content. "He hath led his servants
hither, that the incense of praise may arise from the wilderness."
"Your Spirit is a wicked Spirit. Your ears have been cheated. The counsel
that told your young men to come so far, was not spoken in the voice of
the 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 not
be so dark."
"I know not what injury may have been done the Wampanoags, by men of
wicked minds, for some such there are, even in the dwellings of the
well-disposed; but wrong to any hath never come from those that dwell
within my doors. For these lands, a price hath been paid; and what is now
seen of abundance in the valley, hath been wrought by much labor. Thou art
a Wampanoag, and dost know that the hunting-grounds of thy tribe have been
held sacred by my people. Are not the fences standing, which their hands
placed, that not even the hoof of colt should trample the corn? and when
was 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 the
hawk 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 the
fence with their own hands. The arm of a hungry man is strong. A cunning
Pale-face hath made that fence--it shutteth out the colt, and it shutteth
in the Indian But the mind of a warrior is too big; it will not be kept
at grass with the ox."
A low but expressive murmur of satisfaction from the mouths of his grim
companions, succeeded the reply of the chief.
"The country of thy tribe is far distant," returned Content, "and I will
not lay untruth to my soul by presuming to say whether justice or
injustice hath been done them in the partition of the lands. But in this
valley hath wrong never been done to the red man. What Indian hath asked
for food and not got it? If he hath been a-thirst, the cider came at his
wish; if he hath been a-cold, there was a seat by the hearth; and yet hath
there been reason why the hatchet should be in my hand, and why my foot
should be on the war-path! For many seasons we lived on lands, which were
bought of both red and white man, in peace. But though the sun shone clear
so long, the clouds came at last. There was a dark night fell upon this
valley, 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 a
glimpse of the pale and drooping countenance of her who leaned on the arm
of the still excited and frowning Mark for support. The young chief
listened with a charmed ear. As Content had proceeded, his body was
inclined a little forward, and his whole attitude was that which men
unconsciously assume when intensely occupied in listening to sounds of the
deepest interest.
"But the sun rose again!" said the great chief pointing at the evidences
of prosperity which were everywhere apparent in the settlement, casting at
the same time an uneasy and suspicious glance at his youngest companion.
"The morning was clear, though the night was so dark. The cunning of a
Pale-face knows how to make corn grow on a rock. The foolish Indian eats
roots, when crops fail and is scarce."
"God ceased to be angry;" returned Content meekly, folding his arms in a
manner to show he wished to speak no more.
The great chief was about to continue, when his younger associate laid a
finger on his naked shoulder, and, by a sign, indicated that he wished to
hold communication with him apart. The former met the request with
respect, though it might be discovered that he little liked the expression
of his companion's features, and that he yielded with reluctance, if not
with disgust. But the countenance of the youth was firm, and it would have
needed more than usual hardihood to refuse a request seconded by so steady
and 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 natural
and so dignified that it might have graced the air of a courtier, he
announced his readiness to proceed. Notwithstanding the habitual reverence
of the aborigines for age, the others gave way for the passage of the
young man, in a manner to proclaim that merit or birth, or both, had
united to purchase for him a personal distinction, which far exceeded that
shown, in common, to men of his years. The two chiefs left the piazza in
the noiseless manner of the moccasoned foot.
The passage of these dignified warriors towards the grounds in the rear of
the dwelling, as it was characteristic of their habits, is worthy of being
mentioned. Neither spoke, neither manifested any womanish impatience to
pry into the musings of the other's mind, and neither failed in those
slight but still sensible courtesies by which the path was rendered
commodious and the footing sure. They had reached the summit of the
elevation so often named, ere they believed themselves sufficiently
retired to indulge in a discourse which might otherwise have enlightened
profane ears. When beneath the shade of the fragrant orchard which grew on
the hill, the senior of the two stopped, and throwing about him one of
those quick, nearly imperceptible, and yet wary glances, by which an
Indian understands his precise position, as it were by instinct, he
commenced 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 much
enlightened were we to record it in the precise words in which it has been
transmitted to us, a translation into English, as freely as the subject
requires, and the geniuses of the two languages will admit, shall be
attempted.
"What would my brother have?" commenced he with the turbaned head,
uttering the guttural sounds in the low, soothing tones of friendship, and
even of affection. "What troubles the Great Sachem of the Narragansetts?
His thoughts seem uneasy. I think there is more before his eye, than one
whose sight is getting dim can see. Doth he behold the spirit of the brave
Miantonimoh, who died, like a dog, beneath the blows of cowardly Pequots
and false-tongued Yengeese? Or does his heart swell, with longing, to see
the scalps of treacherous Pale-faces hanging at his belt? Speak, my son;
the hatchet hath long been buried in the path between our villages, and
thy words will enter the ears of friend."
"I do not see the spirit of my father," returned the young Sachem; "he is
afar off, in the hunting-grounds of just warriors. My eyes are too weak to
look over so many mountains, and across so many rivers. He is chasing the
moose in grounds where there are no briars; he needeth not the sight of a
young man to tell him which way the trail leadeth. Why should I look at
the place where the Pequot and the Pale-face took his life? The fire which
scorched this hill hath blackened the spot, and I can no longer find the
marks of blood."
"My son is very wise--cunning beyond his winters! That which hath been
once revenged, is forgotten. He looks no further than six moons. He sees
the warriors of the Yengeese coming into his village, murdering his old
women, and slaying the Narragansett girls; killing his warriors from
behind, and lighting their fires with the bones of red men. I will now
stop 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 red
with the blood of my people, is here! my mind is dark: none of my race
have since looked upon the place where the lodges of the Narragansetts
stood, and yet it hath never been hid from our sight. Since that time have
we travelled in the woods, bearing on our backs all that is left but our
sorrow; that we carry in our hearts."
"Why is my brother troubled? There are many scalps among his people, and
see, his own tomahawk is very red! Let him quiet his anger till the night
cometh, and there will be a deeper stain on the axe. I know he is in a
hurry, but our councils say it is better to wait for darkness, since the
cunning 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; or
unwilling to stay, when men of gray heads say 'tis better? I like your
counsel; it is full of wisdom. Yet an Indian is but a man! Can he fight
with 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 I
cannot see the white Manitou. The pale-men were talking to him when we
raised the whoop in their fields, and yet he has not heard them. Go--my
son has struck their warriors with a strong hand; has he forgotten to
count how many dead lie among the trees with the sweet-smelling blossoms?"
"Metacom," returned he who has been called the Sachem of the
Narragansetts, stepping cautiously nearer to his friend, and speaking
lower, as if he feared an invisible auditor; "thou hast put hate into the
bosoms of the red men, but canst thou make them more cunning than the
Spirits? Hate is very strong, but cunning hath a longer arm. See," he
added, raising the fingers of his two hands before the eyes of his
attentive companion, "ten snows have come and melted, since there stood a
lodge of the Pale-faces on this hill. Conanchet was then a boy. His hand
had struck nothing but deer. His heart was full of wishes. By day he
thought of Pequot scalps, at night he heard the dying words of
Miantonimoh. Though slain by cowardly Pequots and lying Yengeese, his
father came with the night into his wigwam, to talk to his son. 'Does the
child of so many great Sachems grow big?' would he say; 'is his arm
getting strong, his foot light, his eye quick, his heart valiant? Will
Conanchet be like his fathers?--when will the young Sachem of the
Narragansetts 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 his
naked 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 to
succeed the emphatic words of his companion. "He bade his son arise, and
go among the Yengeese, that he might return with scalps to hang in his
wigwam; for the eyes of the dead chief liked not to see the place so
empty. The voice of Conanchet was then too feeble for the council-fire; he
said nothing--he went alone. An evil spirit gave him into the hands of the
Pale-faces. He was a captive many moons. They shut him in a cage, like a
tamed panther! It was here. The news of his ill-luck passed from the
mouths of the young men of the Yengeese, to the hunters; and from the
hunters it came to the ears of the Narragansetts. My people had lost their
Sachem, and they came to seek him. Metacom, the boy had felt the power of
the God of the Yengeese! His mind began to grow weak; he thought less of
revenge; the spirit of his father came no more at night. There was much
talking with the unknown God, and the words of his enemies were kind. He
hunted with them. When he met the trail of his warriors in the woods, his
mind was troubled, for he knew their errand. Still he saw his father's
spirit, and waited. The whoop was heard that night; many died, and the
Narragansetts took scalps. Thou seest this lodge of stone, over which fire
has passed. There was then a cunning place above, and in it the pale-men
went to fight for their lives. But the fire kindled, and then there was no
hope. The soul of Conanchet was moved at that sight, for there was much
honesty in them within. Though their skins were so white, they had not
slain his father. But the flames would not be spoken to, and the place
became like the coals of a deserted council-fire. All within were turned
to ashes. If the spirit of Miantonimoh rejoiced, it was well; but the soul
of his son was very heavy. The weakness was on him, and he no longer
thought 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 he
who talked much with his God. The elder chief, who struck our young men so
hard, was then also a captive in this lodge. He who spoke, and she, who
seems even paler than her race, died that night; and yet are they now
here! Even the brave youth, that was so hard to conquer, looks like a boy
that was in the fire! The Yengeese deal with unknown Gods; they are too
cunning for an Indian!"
Philip heard this strange tale, as a being educated in superstitious
legends would be apt to listen; and yet it was with a leaning to
incredulity, that was generated by his fierce and indomitable desire for
the destruction of the hated race. He had prevailed, in the councils of
his nation, over many similar signs of the supernatural agency that was
exercised in favor of his enemies, but never before had facts so imposing
come so directly and from so high a source before his mind. Even the proud
resolution and far-sighted wisdom of this sagacious chief were shaken by
such testimony, and there was a single moment when the idea of abandoning
a league that seemed desperate took possession of his brain. But true to
Himself and his cause, second thoughts and a firmer purpose restored his
resolution, though they could not remove the perplexity of his doubts.
"What does Conanchet wish?" he said. "Twice have his warriors broke into
this valley, and twice have the tomahawks of his young men been redder
than the head of the woodpecker. The fire was not good fire; the tomahawk
will 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 they
now 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 young
and much moved companion, he made a sign to a youth who was straying about
the fields, to approach. This young warrior was made the bearer of an
order to lead the captives to the hill, after which the two chiefs stalked
to and fro in silence, each brooding over what had passed, in a humor that
was suited to his particular character and more familiar feelings.