[Illustration: 9038]
URING the frequent wars between the Indians and the early settlers of
New England, the former defeated a party of English soldiers. Their
retreat was without order; and a young English officer, in attempting
to escape, was pursued by two savages. Finding escape impracticable, and
determined to sell his life as dearly as possible, he turned round to
face his foes. A violent struggle commenced, and he must have fallen, if
an old chief had not thrown himself between the combatants. The red men
instantly retired with respect. The old man took the young officer by
the hand, dispelled his fears, and led him through the forest to his
wigwam, where he treated him with the greatest kindness. He seemed to
take pleasure in the youth’s company; he was his constant companion;
he taught him his language, customs, and arts. Thoughts of home would
sometimes haunt the young Englishman. At these times, Wanou would survey
his young friend attentively, and the tears would fill his eyes.
[Illustration: 0039]
When the spring returned, the war was renewed, and Wanou whose strength
was still sufficient to bear the toils of war, set out with the rest of
the braves, and his white prisoner.
When the Indians arrived in sight of the English camp, Wanou showed
the young officer his countrymen, observing his countenance the while.
“There are thy brethren,” said he, “waiting to fight us. Listen to me.
I have saved thy life. I have taught thee to make a canoe, and bow and
arrows; to hunt the bear and the buffalo; to bring down the deer at full
speed, and to outwit even the cunning fox. What wast thou when I first
led thee to my wigwam? Thy hands were like those of a child; they served
neither to support nor to defend thee; thou wert ignorant, but from me
thou hast learned every thing. Wilt thou be ungrateful, and raise up thy
arm against the red man?”
The young man declared with warmth that he would rather lose his own
life than shed the blood of his Indian friends. The old warrior covered
his face with his hands, bowed his head and remained in that posture
for some time, as if overcome by some painful recollection. Then with a
strong effort, he said to the young man, “Hast thou a father?”
“He was living,” said the young man, “when I left my native country.”
“Oh! how fortunate he is still to have a son!” cried the Indian; and
then, after a moment’s silence, he added, “Knowest thou that I have been
a father; but I am no longer so! I saw my son fall in battle; he fought
bravely by my side; my son fell covered with wounds, and he died like a
man! but I revenged his death; yes, I _revenged_ his death!”
Wanou pronounced these words with a terrible vehemence; but at length
he became calm, and turning towards the east, where the sun had just
risen, he said, “Young man, thou seest that glorious light--does it
afford thee any pleasure to behold it?”
“Yes,” replied the officer, “I never look upon the rising sun without
pleasure, or without feeling thankful to our great father who created
it.”
“I am glad thou art happy, but there is no more pleasure for me,” said
Wanou. A moment after, he showed the young man a shrub in full bloom,
and said, “Hast thou any pleasure in beholding this plant?”
“Yes, great pleasure,” replied the young man.
“To me, it can no longer give pleasure,” said the old man; and then
embracing the young Englishman, he concluded with these words, “Begone!
hasten to thy country, that thy father may still have pleasure in
beholding the rising sun, and the flowers of spring.”
Poor chief; the death of his beloved son had broken his heart.
[Illustration: 0044]
[Illustration: 0045]
[Illustration: 0047]