The next day ushered in a crisis in the affairs of the would-be
stationers--the house-raising began. All the men of the settlement
gathered to the fore, and the cabins--a substantial double-cabin the
larger was, and the other, one room and a loft--went up as if by magic.
The stockade, boles of stout young trees sawed off in lengths of twenty
feet and sharply pointed at the upper end, the other end deeply sunken
into the ground, began to grow apace. The spring was within the
enclosure--a point of vast importance in that day, since in times of
danger from the Indians it was not necessary to sally forth from the
protection of the stockade for the indispensable water-supply for
household and cattle. The prospects of many an early station were
blighted by overlooking in a period of comparative peace and comfort
this urgent advantage, and many a life was taken during some desperate
sortie with piggins and pails by the defenders of the stockade, who
could have held out valiantly against the savage except for the menace
of death by thirst. The officers had urged this point upon the
pioneers.
"Of course in any emergency," Demere argued, "the forces at the fort
would relieve you at once. But the true military principle ought to
govern even in such a minor stronghold. An unfailing water-supply ought
to be a definitely recognized necessity in every military post subject
to beleaguerment. Otherwise the station can be held only very
temporarily; one can lay in provisions and stand a siege, but drouth
means death, for surrender is massacre."
Nevertheless, eastward at the time, and later in westward settlements,
this obvious precaution was often neglected and the obvious disaster as
often ensued.
The woodland spring within the stockade was a charming and rocky spot
with no suggestion of flowing water till one might notice that the moss
and mint beneath a gigantic tree were moist; then looking under a broad,
flat, slab-like ledge might be descried a deep basin four feet in
diameter filled with water, crystal, clear, and brown in the deep
shadow--brown and liquid as the eyes of some water-nymph hidden among
the rocks and the evergreen laurel.
And, oh joy! the day when Odalie kindled her own fire once more on her
own hearth-stone--good, substantial flagging; when traversing the
passage from one room to another she could look down through the open
gate of the stockade at the silvery rushing of the Tennessee in its
broad expanse under the blue sky, giving, as it swirled around, a long
perspective, down the straight and gleaming reach before it curved anew.
And oh, the moment of housewifely pride when the slender stock of goods
was unpacked and once more the familiar articles adjusted in their
places, her flax wheel in the chimney corner, her china ranged to its
best advantage on the shelf; and often did she think about the little
blue jug that came from France and marvel what had been its fate! All
her linen that was saved, the pride of her heart, made, too, its brave
show. She had a white cloth on her table, albeit the table seemed to
have much ado to stand alone since its legs were of unequal length, and
white counterpanes on her beds, and gay curtains at the windows opening
within the stockade--the other side had but loop-holes--on which birds
of splendid plumage, cut from East Indian chintz, had been overcast on
the white dimity, and which looked when the wind stirred them, for there
was no glass and only a batten shutter, as if all the winged denizens of
the brilliant tropics were seeking entrance to this happy bower; the
room had an added woodland suggestion because of the bark adhering to
the logs of the walls, for the timbers of these primitive houses were
unhewn, although the daubing and the chinking were stout and close, and
with the aid of the great flaring fires stood off Jack Frost with a very
valiant bluff.
So many things had she brought in small compass. When the fire was
a-flicker on a dull wintry afternoon, and the snow a-whirl outside, and
the tropical birds quite still on their shadowy perches against the
closed batten shutters, Odalie, Hamish, Fifine, and the cat were wont to
congregate together and sit on the buffalo rug spread on the puncheon
floor beside the hearth, and explore sundry horns of buffalo or elk in
which many small articles of varying degrees of value had been compactly
packed. They all seemed of an age--and this a young age--when the joyous
exclamations arose upon the recognition of sundry treasured trifles
whose utility had begun to be missed.
"My emery bag!" her eyes dewy with delight, "and oh, my cake of wax!"
"And Lord!" exclaimed Hamish, "there's my bullet-mould--whoever would
have thought of that!"
"And your new ribbon; 'tis a very pretty piece," and Odalie let the
lustrous undulations catch the firelight as she reeled it out. "The best
taffeta to tie up your queue."
[Illustration: "And oh, the moment of housewifely pride!"]
"I don't intend to plait my hair in a queue any more," Hamish
declared contemptuously. "The men in this country," he continued with a
lofty air, "have too much men's work to do to busy themselves with
plaiting hair and wearing a bobbing pig-tail at their ears." He shook
his own dangling curls as he spoke.
Fifine babbled out an assortment of words with many an ellipsis and many
a breathy aspiration which even those accustomed to the infant
infirmities of her tongue could with difficulty interpret. Both Odalie
and Hamish, bending attentive eyes upon her, discerned at last the words
to mean that Mr. Gilfillan had no hair to plait. At this Hamish looked
blank for a moment and in consternation; Odalie exclaimed, "Oh, oh!" but
Fifine infinitely admired Mr. Gilfillan, and nothing doubted him worthy
of imitation.
"I'll have none, but for a different reason. I'll cut my lovely locks
close with Odalie's shears as soon as she finds them," Hamish declared.
He did not dream that they were already found and bestowed in a safe
nook in a crevice between the chinking where they would not be again
discovered in a hurry, for he had earlier expressed his determination to
forsake the gentility of long hair in emulation of sundry young wights,
the roaring blades of single men about the settlement.
Odalie was too tactful to remonstrate. "And oh!" she exclaimed with a
sort of ecstasy. "My pouncet-box! how sweet! _delicieux!_" She presented
the gold filigree at the noses successively of Hamish and Fifine and the
cat, all of whom sniffed in polite ecstasy, but Kitty suddenly wiped her
nose with her paw several times and then began to wash her face.
"My poppet! my poppet!" cried Fifine, ecstatically, as a quaint and tiny
wooden doll of a somewhat Dutch build and with both arms stretched out
straight was fished out. She snuggled it up to her lips in rapture, then
showed it to the cat, who evidently recognized it, and as it was danced
seductively before her on the buffalo rug, put out her paw and with a
delicate tentative gesture and intent brow was about to play with it
after her fashion of toying with a mouse, when one of her claws caught
in a mesh of the doll's bobinet skirt. Now the doll's finery, while
limited in compass to minuteness, was very fine, and as Josephine's
short shriek of indignation, "_Quelle barbarie!_" arose on the air, the
cat turned around carrying the splendidly arrayed poppet off on her
unwilling claw--to be lost, who knew where, in the wilderness! The
frantic little owner seized the tail of the _mignonne toute cherie_,
which sent up a wail of poignant discordance; the romping Hamish, with a
wicked mimicry of the infantile babbling cry, "_Quelle barbarie!_"
impeded the progress of Fifine by catching the skirt of her little
jacket, called a josie; whereupon Odalie, imitating his dislocated
French accent and boyish hoarseness in the exclamation, "_Quelle
barbarie!_" laid hold upon his long curly hair, held together by a
ribbon as an apology for a pig-tail. There ensued an excited scramble
around on the buffalo rug before the fire, during which the horn was
turned over and some of its small treasures escaped amidst the long fur.
This brought Odalie to a pause, for the lost articles were buttons of
French gilt, and they must be found in the fur and counted; for did they
not belong to Sandy's best blue coat, and could not be dispensed with?
In the course of the merry-go-round the cat's claw had become
disentangled from the doll's frock. Fifine had released the clutch of
reprisal on the cat's tail. Hamish had been visited with a fear that the
end of Fifine's josie might give way in rents before her obstinacy would
relax; and Odalie had not the heart to pull his hair with more cruelty
than she had heretofore indulged. So the magic circle gave way by its
own impulse as it had formed, and all the heads were once more bent
together in earnest absorption in the search and the subsequent
disclosures of the buffalo horn. Such choice symposia as these were
usually reserved for the dusk of the afternoon in bad weather when the
outdoor work was done, and Odalie--her house all in order--needed more
light for her other vocations. It was quite incredible how soon a loom
was set up and warping-bars constructed, and all the details in motion
of that pioneer home life, which added the labor and interests of
domestic manufacture to the other absorbing duties of the housewife that
have survived in these times of machinery and delegated responsibility.
These were the holiday moments of the day, but once when the mother and
the little girl and the cat sat intent upon the rug, their treasures
spread before them, Odalie's face paled and her heart almost sprang into
her mouth as she heard Hamish's step outside, quick and disordered. As
he burst into the room she knew by his eyes that something of grave
import had happened. And yet, as she faced him speechless, he said
nothing. She noted his uncaring casual glance at that potent fascinator,
the buffalo horn, and his hasty, unsettled gesture. He seemed resolved
not to speak--then he suddenly exclaimed solemnly:--
"Odalie, there is the prettiest creature in this settlement that you
ever saw in your life--and--the gracefullest!"
"A fawn?" said the mercurial Odalie, who recovered her poise as suddenly
as it was shaken.
He looked at her in a daze for a moment.
"A fawn? What absurdity!"
"Nothing less than a dear, I must needs be sure."
He apprehended her sarcasm. Then, too absorbed to be angry, he reverted
to himself.
"Oh," he cried with bitterness, "why do you let me go about in
worshipful company with my hair like this?--" he clutched at his tousled
locks.
"Yes--yes, I see. It always goes to the head," said Odalie, demurely.
"Don't laugh at me," he exclaimed, "but how had you the heart--and
Sandy's hair always in such trim-wise, and you and Fifine like people of
fashion."
Odalie could but laugh in truth; she had known such splendors as
colonial life at that day could present and she was well aware how the
ill-equipped wife of a pioneer on the furthest frontier failed of that
choice aspect.
"I thought," she said, still laughing, "that you were ambitious of the
fashion of such coiffure as Mr. Gilfillan affects--oh, poor man!--and
had made up your mind to plait your hair no more."
Hamish took this very ill, and in dudgeon would not divulge the name and
quality of the fair maiden the sight of whom had so gone to his head.
But it was the next evening only that they were to attend a ball in the
officers' mess-hall at the fort, in celebration of the joys of
Christmastide, and Odalie perceived the rancor of resentment gradually
departing when he came and begged--not her pardon--but that she would
do him the infinite favor to plait his hair. Try as he would, and he had
tried for an hour, he could not achieve a coiffure that seemed
satisfactory to him in the solicitous state of his feelings. This
ceremony she performed, perched upon what she called a _tabouret_, which
was nothing but a stout, square billet of wood with a cover and valance
of a dull blue fustian, while he sat at her feet, and Sandy looked on
with outward gravity, but with a twinkle in his sober eyes that made
Hamish's blood boil to realize that she had told his brother of the
sudden reason for a change of heart touching the mode of wearing his
hair, and that they had quietly laughed at him about it. Nevertheless,
now he valued every strand of it as if it were spun gold, and would have
parted with it as hardly.
The Christmas ball was indeed an affair of much splendor. Profuse
wreaths of holly, with berries all aflame, decorated the walls of the
great hall, and among them the lines of buffalo horns and the antlers of
deer and the waving banners showed with enhanced effect. From the centre
of the ceiling the mystic mistletoe depended with such suggestively
wide-spreading boughs that it might seem that no fair guest could hope
to escape the penalty; this was the broad jest of the masculine
entertainers. The hosts, all the commissioned officers being present,
were in full uniform, seeming brilliant against the decorated walls and
in the great flare of the fire; even lace ruffles were to be seen and
many a queue was braided and tied as fairly as Hamish's own. A huge Yule
log, such as could not be discredited by any that had ever sent up
sparks and flame at this sacred season, made the great chimney place one
vast scarlet glow; the door of necessity stood open, although the snow
was on the ground, and the dark, bare branches of the rows of trees left
in military alignment, down the centre of the parade, whitely glimmered
with frost and ice akin to the chilly glitter of the wintry stars which
they seemed to touch with their topmost boughs.
The garrison had been surprised on the previous midnight by the sudden
outbreak of the sound on the icy air of certain familiar old Christmas
carols sung by a few of the soldiers, who had the memory and the voice
to compass the feat, and who had been wont for a time to steal off to
the woods to rehearse in secret, in order to bring to the Yule-tide, so
surely coming, even to these far-away fastnesses, something of the
blithe association and yet the spirit of sanctity of the old remembered
Yule-tides of long distances agone both of time and place. The
enthusiasm that this reminder awakened nullified all thought of the
breach of discipline. The singers were summoned into the hall by the
commandant, and the embers stirred up, and they drank his health and
the king's as long as he dared let them have the liquor. And now, all
unseen in the darkness, the waits were stationed at a little distance to
mellow the sound, and were singing these old Christmas carols while the
guests gathered. The rough martial voices rang out with a sort of
jubilant solemnity and a strongly defined _tempo giusto_, very natural
to men who "mark time" for their sins, and whose progress through life
is to the sound of the drum.
The iterative beat pulsed through the open doors to the groups about the
big Yule-tide fires and those coming in out of the dark wilderness, not
daring to stir without firelock, knife, and pistol, for fear of a
treacherous foe. And in the hearts and minds of the full-armed guests
was roused a sentiment not new but half-forgotten, to hear in those
confident, mellow, assured tones--
"God rest ye, merry gentlemen,
Let nothing ye dismay;
For Jesus Christ our Saviour
Was born upon this day."
Between each stanza when silence came unwelcome to the ear and the
chatter of tongues seemed dull and trivial a bugle sang out suddenly,
its golden-sweet notes vibrating and ringing in the air in the intervals
of this sweet old hymning theme.
After this tribute, such as they could pay to the holier character of
the day and the reminder of home, the festivity and jollity began. The
introduction was auspicious and touched the sense of the picturesque of
those to whom life was wont to show but a sordid aspect. The settlers
were pleased with the pomp and ceremony of their reception, genuinely
delighted with the effect of the carols and the summoning up of old
memories and homing thoughts so tenderly stirred, satisfied with
themselves and disposed to admire each other.
One would hardly have believed that there was so much finery in the
settlement--of different dates and fashions, it is true, and various
nationalities. The wife of one settler wore a good gown of brocade,
although her husband seemed quite assured in his buckskins. Two or three
heads were held the higher from a proud consciousness of periwigs[7] and
powder. Mrs. Halsing had a tall, curious comb of filigree silver and
great silver ear-rings, a sad-colored stuff gown, but a queer foreign
apron across which were two straight bands of embroidery of a pattern
and style that might have graced a museum; Odalie, the expert,
determined that the day was not far distant when she should sue for the
privilege of examining the stitch. She herself was clad in the
primrose-flowered paduasoy, with a petticoat of dark red satin and all
her Mechlin lace for a fichu, while pearls--her grand'maman's
necklace--were in her dark hair. Mrs. Beedie had woven her own frock
with her own sturdy hands, and with a fresh mob-cap on her head and a
very fresh rose on her cheek actively danced the whole night through.
The widow of the man who had come hither to forward his passion for the
ministry to the Indian savages, and who had lost his life in the
fruitless effort, now probably deemed dissent a grievous folly and had
returned to earlier ways of thinking and conventional standards. She
wore no weeds--one could not here alter the fashion of one's dress, the
immutable thing, for so transitory a matter as grief. She regarded the
scene with the face of one who has little share, although she wore a
puce-colored satin with some fine lace frills and a modish cap on her
thin hair.
But the daughter! With a lordly carriage of her delicate head that might
have been reminiscent of her grandfather, the bishop, and yet joyous
girlish red lips, full and smiling and set about with deep dimples; with
her hair of red-gold, and sapphire eyes, she was eminently calculated to
shatter what poor remnant of peace of mind the young ensign and two
young lieutenants who clustered about her had been able to keep in this
desert place--the more precarious since it was well understood that the
fair Belinda had high expectations, and as to matrimonial bait hoped for
the opportunity to "bob for whale." This gay exile herself, born and
reared in the provinces and surrounded always by the little court her
beauty summoned about her, did not look forward to a life on the
frontier. She anticipated at some time an invasion of England and a life
worthy the brilliance of her aspect, and occasionally when her
interlocutors were such as could attribute to her no braggart pride, she
would mention that she had relatives there--of good quality--who would
doubtless be glad to receive her. The mother, poor sad-visaged martyr of
deceit, would only draw her thin wrinkled collapsed lips the closer,
holding hard hidden the fact that the girl's father had been looked upon
by these relatives "of good quality" as a monster of ingratitude, and at
the same time as a candidate for a strait waist-coat, whose apostasy and
voluntary exile had hastened the good bishop's old age and broken his
heart; that the children of the ingrate would be avoided by this
conventional clique, like the leprosy, and esteemed sure to develop
sooner or later terrible and infinitely inconvenient heresies, and
occasion heaven only knew what bouleversement in any comely and orthodox
and reasonable method of life. She had not much vigor of sentiment, but
such flicker of hatred as could burn among the ashes of her nature
glowed toward those who had cut her husband off and ostracized him, and
made of his earnest sacrificial effort to do his duty, as it was
revealed to him, a scoff, a burlesque, a reproach, and a bitter
caricature. She knew, too, how much of money, of dress, and of
connections it would require to return to that country where they would
have no base from which to organize the brave campaign that the
brilliantly equipped daughter contemplated with such gay and confident
courage.
The girl's brother, however, Hamilton Rush, five years her senior,
forgetting that he was the grandson of a prelate and the son of a martyr
by election, bent all the energies he had inherited from both in the
effort to build up home and wealth and a fair future in this rich land,
which held out such bounties to the strong hand and the brave heart. He
was here to-night, looking on at the scene of pleasure with as absent
and absorbed a face as a London stockbroker might have worn in the midst
of a financial crisis.
The brilliant mirage before the shining anticipative eyes of the fair
Belinda did not preclude her from entering with youthful ardor into
these festivities now _faute de mieux_ garbed in a canary-colored tabby,
of which the moire effect, as we should say nowadays, glistened and
shoaled in the light and the luster of the silk. It was worn opening
over a skirt of white satin with yellow stripes, enclosing in each a
delicate pattern of a vine of roses in several natural tints from pink
to a deep purplish red, all having that sere sort of freshness which
comes from solicitous preservation rather than newness--like a pressed
flower; one might imagine that garbed thus the galvanized widow had
captured the affections of the bishop's son, not then perhaps so
severely ascetic of outlook. But Miss Belinda danced as graciously with
the ensign as if she had no splendid ulterior views, and graced the
minuet which Odalie and Captain Demere led. Hamish looking at them
thought that though she was as unlike Odalie as a splendid tulip differs
from the stately, tender sweetness of the aspect of a white rose, they
both adorned the dance like flowers in a parterre. He resolved with a
glow of fraternal pride that he would tell Odalie how beautiful she was
in her primrose-tinted gown and deep red jupon with her dark hair rolled
high, and its string of white pearls, her step so deliberate and smooth
with its precision of grace as with uplifted clasped hands she and the
officer opened the dance.
This minuet was a splendid maze to Hamish's limited experience, as the
firelight glowed and flashed on the scarlet uniforms and the delicate,
dainty tints of the gowns of the ladies, giving out the gloss of satin
and now and again showing the soft whiteness of a bare arm held upward
to the clasp of a partner's hand in a lace ruffle and a red sleeve in
the graceful attitudes prescribed by the dance. The measured and stately
step, the slow, smooth whirl, the swinging changing postures, the fair
smiling faces and shining eyes, all seemed curiously enhanced by the
environment--the background of boughs of holly on the walls, and the
military suggestions of the metallic flashing of the arms resting on the
line of deer antlers that encircled the room--it was like a bird singing
its roundelay perched in a cannon's mouth.
Hamish himself stood against the wall, and for a time it may be doubted
if any one saw how very handsomely his "lovely locks" were plaited, so
did he court the shadows. Sandy noted with secret amusement how
persistently the boy's eyes followed the beautiful Miss Rush, for it was
evident that she was nineteen or twenty years of age, at least three
years older than her latest admirer.
Despite his sudden infatuation, however, Hamish was a person of
excellent good sense, and he soon saw the fatuity of this worship from
afar. "Let the ensign and the lieutenants pine to death," he
thought--then with the rough old frontier joke, "I'm saving _my_ scalp
for the Injuns." Nevertheless he was acutely glad that his hair was like
a gentleman's, and when he finally ventured out of the crowd he
secured, to his great elation, a partner for one of the contra-dances
that succeeded the minuet, for the men so greatly outnumbered the women
that this argued considerable enterprise on a newcomer's part. Hamish
had determined to dance, if with nobody but Mrs. Halsing; but there were
other girlish flowers, somewhat overshadowed by the queens of the
parterre, whom he found when his eyes had lost their dazing gloat upon
the beauty of the belle of the settlement--mere little daisies or
violets, as near half wild as himself, knowing hardly more of civilized
society than he did. Most of these were clad in bright homespun; one or
two were so very young that they found it amazing sport, and in truth so
did he, although he had the style of patronizing the enterprise, to
plunge out of the great hall and scamper across the snowy parade to a
room, emptied by the gradual exhaustion of the munitions it had
contained, and now devoted to the entertainment of the children of the
settlers, who it is needless to say had come necessarily with the elder
members of the pioneer families to participate in the gayeties of the
fort. It was a danger not to be contemplated to leave them in the wholly
deserted settlement; so, sequestered here in this big room, bare of all
but holly boughs upon the wall and a great fire and a bench or two
about the chimney corner, they added _eclat_ to the occasion of the
officers' ball by reason of the enthusiastic spirit that pervaded the
Christmas games under the direction of Corporal O'Flynn. He had been
delegated to supervise and control the juvenile contingent, being
constituted master of the revels. With his wild Irish spirit aflame he
was in his element. A finer looking Bruin than he was when enveloped in
a great bearskin never came out of the woods, and certainly none more
active as he chased the youthful pioneers, who were screaming shrilly,
from one side of the hall to the other. As "Poor Puss" he struggled
frantically for a corner, failing, however, when a settler of the
advanced age of four, but mighty enterprising, made in swiftly between
his knees, gave him a tremendous fall, and gained the coveted goal.
"Mily, mily bright" was infinitely enlivened by the presence of the
recruits from the ball-room, and the romp became tumultuous when Hamish
undertook the _role_ of one of the witches that waited by the way to
intercept those--among whom was the corporal--who sought to get there by
"candle-light," and who were assured that they could do this if their
"legs were long enough." When he pursued the soldier and his juvenile
party from one side of the room to the other, winding and doubling and
almost tumbling into the fire, the delighted screams of the children
were as loud and shrill as if they were all being scalped, and caused
the sentries in the block-house towers to look in surprise and doubt in
that direction more than once, and finally brought Captain Stuart from
the officers' quarters to see for himself what was going on. As he stood
in the door with his imperious face, his bluff manner, his military
dress, and his great muscular height, the children, inspired by that
love of the incongruous which always characterizes childhood, swarmed
about him with the insistence that he should be blindfolded in
Blindman's Buff. And surely he proved the champion blind man of the
world! After one benighted stumbling rush half across the room, amidst a
storm of squealing ecstasy, he plunged among his pygmy enemies with such
startling success as to have caught two or three by the hair of their
heads with one hand, while with the other he was laying about him with
such discrimination that his craft became apparent. He was not playing
fair!--he could see!--he peeped! he peeped! and his laugh being much
resented, he was put to the door by his small enemies, who evidently
expected him to feel such repentance as he might experience if he were
to be court-martialed.
O'Flynn, watching him go off across the snowy shadowy parade, noticed
that he did not at once return to the open door of the great hall where
the swirl of the dance could be seen in a kaleidoscopic glow of color,
and whence the glad music came forth in a mellow gush of sound; but
stood at some little distance watching the progress of the corporal of
the guard, who with the relief was on his way to the posts of the
sentinels; then Stuart disappeared within one of the block-houses,
evidently ascending to the tower; after an interval he came out and
again traversed the parade, going diagonally across the whole enclosure
without doubt to the block-house at the further bastion; thus from these
two coigns of vantage he could survey the whole of the region on the
four sides of the fort.
"I'll go bail, ould Foxy," said Corporal O'Flynn, apostrophizing his
superior officer under his breath, "that there's nothin' that your sharp
eyes doesn't see--if it's just a snake takin' advantage o' the privacy
o' the dark hour to slough his skin. But I'd give ye," he hesitated, "me
blessin', if you'd tell me what 'tis ye're lookin' for. I want to know,
not from a meddlesome sphirit, but jist from sheer curiosity--because my
mother was a woman an' not a witch."
For Captain Stuart had encountered a difficulty in these simple
backwoods Christmas festivities which was altogether unexpected. He had
diligently considered the odds against success, in which, however, the
chief seemed the lack of appropriate refreshment, for one could not
serve venison and buffalo and wild fowl to hunters as luxuries, and the
limited compass and utilitarian character of the goods sent from the
base of supplies over the mountains rendered even the accumulation of
the requisite materials for the punch-bowl a matter of forethought and
skilled strategy. After the wheat-bread had been secured to make the
ramequins this feature came near to being dropped because of the
difficulty of obtaining the simple ingredients of eggs and cheese to
compound the farce wherewith they should be spread. But this too had
been accomplished. The method of providing for the safety and
entertainment of the children of the settlers, without whom they could
not leave home yet whose presence would have hindered if not destroyed
the enjoyment of the elders, seemed a stroke of genius. The soldiers and
non-commissioned officers were satisfactorily assigned a share in the
entertainment appropriate to their military rank and in consonance with
their taste, and were even now carousing gayly in their quarters, where
there was more Christmas spirit in circulation than spirituous liquor,
for the commandant's orders were niggardly indeed as to serving out the
portions of tafia, not in the interests of temperance so much as of
discipline in view of their perilous situation so far from help, so
alone in the midst of hordes of inimical savages; his parsimony in this
regard passed with them as necessity, since they knew that rum was hard
to come by, and even this meager dole was infrequent and a luxury.
Therefore they drank their thimbleful with warm hearts and cool heads;
the riotous roared out wild songs and vied with one another in wrestling
matches or boxing encounters; the more sedate played cards or dominoes
close in to the light of the flaring fire, or listened with ever fresh
interest to the great stories often told by the gray-headed drum-major
who had served under the Duke of Cumberland in foreign lands, and
promptly smote upon the mouth any man who spoke of his royal highness as
"Billy the Butcher";[8] for there were Scotchmen in the garrison
intolerant of the title of "Hero of Culloden," having more or less
remote associations with an experience delicately mentioned in Scotland
as "being out in the Forty-five." With each fresh narration the
drum-major produced new historical details of the duke's famous fields
and added a few to the sum of the enemies killed and wounded, till it
seemed that if the years should spare him, it would one day be
demonstrated that the warlike William Augustus had in any specified
battle slain more men by sword and bayonet and good leaden ball than
were ever mustered into any army on the face of the earth. All the
soldiers were in their spruce parade trim, and every man had a bunch of
holly in his hat.
Even the Indians had been considered. In response to the invitation,
they had sent the previous day their symbolic white swan's wings painted
with streaks of white clay, and these were conspicuously placed in the
decorated hall. The gates of the fort that morning had been flung wide
open to all who would come. Tafia--in judiciously small quantities, it
is true--was served to the tribesmen about the parade, but the head-men,
Atta-Kulla-Kulla, Willinawaugh, Rayetaeh, Otacite, more than all,
Oconostota, the king of the Cherokee nation, were escorted to the great
hall of the officers' quarters, the latter on the arm of Captain Stuart
himself; the Indian king, being a trifle lame of one leg,--he was known
among the soldiers as "Old Hop,"--was evidently pleased by the
exceptional attention and made the most of his infirmity, leaning
heavily on the officer's arm. Arrayed in their finest fur robes with
beautiful broad collars of white swan's down about their necks, with
their faces mild and devoid of paint, seated in state before the great
fire, the head-men were regaled with French brandy, duly diluted, and
the best Virginia tobacco, offered in very curious pipes, which, with
some medals and gorgets imported for the purpose, were presented as
gifts when the ceremony was concluded, and which the Cherokees accepted
with a show of much pleasure; indeed, they conducted themselves always
under such circumstances with a very good grace and a certain dignity
and propriety of feeling which almost amounted to good breeding.
This was maintained when, invited by the commandant, they witnessed the
dress parade, especially elaborate in honor of the occasion, and they
listened attentively when Captain Stuart made a short address to the
troops on the subject of the sacred character of the day and adjured
them in a frank and soldierly fashion to have a care that they
maintained the moral discipline in which they had all been drilled and
gave no advantage to the Enemy because they were here, cut off from the
main body of Christianity, so far from the ministrations of a chaplain
and the beneficent usages of civilization. "Every soldier learns command
from obedience," he said. "And if I should send a detail from the ranks
on some special duty, the file-leader would know how to command it,
although he had never given an order in his life. You are each, with all
your spiritual forces, detached on special duty. You are veteran
soldiers of the Cross and under marching orders!"
Oconostota, with a kingly gesture, signified that the interpreter should
repeat in his ear this discourse, and now and again nodded his head
during its translation with cogitation and interest, and as if he
understood and approved it. He watched too, as if with sympathy, the
ranks go suddenly down upon their knees, as the commandant read the
collect for the day followed by the unanimous delivery of the Lord's
prayer, in their hearty, martial voices.
After the tap of the drum had given a resonant "Amen!" they marched off
upon the word and broke ranks; and such little observance as the fort
could offer in commemoration of the event was over.
The Indians all realized this, and were soon loitering out of the great
gate, the commandant receiving their compliments upon the good behavior
of his "young men" and their fine appearance, an elaborate and flowery
speech of farewell. Then Oconostota took his presents, by far the
largest and most elaborate of the collection, and, leaning on Stuart's
arm, left the fort, the officer attending him in this fashion down to
the river-bank, where his pettiaugre awaited him. Stuart evolved,
apparently without effort, a felicitous phrase of farewell and esteem,
graded carefully to suit the rank of the other head-men who followed
with Captain Demere and several lieutenants. These words,
Atta-Kulla-Kulla, a Cherokee of an intelligent, spirited countenance,
either had the good feeling or the art to seem to especially value.
"Such smoke as goes up from this pipe between my face and your face, my
friend," he said through the interpreter, "shall never come between you
and me. I shall always see you very clear, for I know your heart. Your
ways are strange; you come from a far place; but I know you well, for I
know your heart."
He laid his hand for a moment on the broad chest of the red coat of the
tall, blond officer, then stepped into the canoe, and the little craft
shoved off to join a very fleet of canoes, so full was the shining
surface of the river of Indians who had come from the towns above to the
celebration of the "big Sunday"[D] at the fort.
Captain Stuart felt relieved that all had gone off so well and that they
were rid of the Cherokees for the day.
But now the unforeseen was upon him, the fatally uncovenanted event for
which none can prepare. An express had come after nightfall from over
the mountains, bringing, besides the mail, rumors of another Indian
outbreak on the South Carolina frontier. A number of settlers had been
massacred, and the perpetrators of the deed had escaped unpunished.
Stuart, charging the man to say nothing of his news to blight the
Christmas festivities--since the reports might not be true--sent him to
make merry among the soldiers. Anxiety had taken possession of that
stout heart of Stuart's. When the settlers had begun to gather to the
ball, the earliest arrivals brought no suggestion of difficulty. The
next comers, however, had seen straggling bands of Indians across the
river, but they were mentioned casually and with no sense of
premonition. The guests to enter last had been somewhat surprised to
notice numbers of canoes at the landing-place, and presently Captain
Stuart was called aside by the officer of the day, who stated that in
making the rounds he had learned that the sentinel at the gate had
reported having observed bands of Indians lurking about on the edge of
the woods, and that quite a number had come, singly and in groups, to
the gate to demand admission. The gathering of the white people had
roused their attention evidently. They had always held the
cannon-mounted fort and the presence of the soldiery as a menace, and
they now sought to discern what this unprecedented assemblage might
portend. If their entrance were resisted, they who so often frequented
the place, it was obviously inimical to them. They had heard--for the
transmission of news among the Indians was incredibly swift--of the
massacres on the frontier and feared some effort at reprisal. The scanty
numbers of the garrison invited their blood-thirsty rapacity, but they
were awed by the cannon, and although entertaining vague ideas
concerning the management and scope of artillery, realized its terrible
potencies.
Perhaps it was with some idea of forcing an entrance by surprise--that
they might be within the walls of the fort and out of the range of the
guns at this critical juncture of the massing of the forces of the
settlers and the garrison--that a party of thirty or forty Cherokees
suddenly rushed past the sentinel on the counterscarp, who had hardly
time to level his firelock and to call lustily on the guard. The guard
at once turning out, the soldiers met the onset of the savages at the
gate and bore them back with the bayonet. There was the sudden, quick
iterative tramp on the frozen ground of a man running at full speed, and
as Stuart dashed through the sally-port he called out "Bar the gates!
Bar the gates!" in a wild, imperative voice.
In another moment he was standing outside among the savages, saying
blandly in Cherokee, of which he had mastered sundry phrases--"How now,
my friends,--my best friends!" and holding out his hand with his frank,
genial manner first to one of the Indians, then to another.
They looked upon his hand in disdain and spat upon the ground.
The sentry in the gate-house above, his firelock ready leveled to his
shoulder, gazed down at the officer, as he stood with his back to the
heavy iron-spiked oaken gates; there was light enough in the reflection
of the snow, that made a yellow moon, rising higher and higher into the
blue night and above the brown, shadowy woods, seem strangely intense of
color, and in the melancholy radiation from its weird, gibbous disk to
show the officer's calm, impassive face; his attitude, with his arms
folded, the rejected hand withdrawn; even the gold lace on his red coat
and the color of his hair in the thick braid that hung down under his
cocked hat. Even the latent expectation might be discerned in his eyes
that the interval of silence would prove too irksome to the hot impulse,
which had nerved the rush on the gates, to be long continued, and that
the moment would reveal the leader and the purpose of the demonstration.
A Cherokee stepped suddenly forward--a man with a tuft of eagle feathers
on his scalp-lock quivering with angry agitation, his face smeared with
vermilion, clad in the buckskin shirt and leggings that the settlers had
copied from the Indians, with pistols at his belt as well as a firelock
in one hand--the barrel sawed off short to aid its efficacy. The air was
bitterly cold, but the blood blazed hot in his face; in Cherokee he
spoke and he paused for no interpreter; if the _unaka_ Captain did not
understand him, so much the worse for the _unaka_ Captain. Through his
teeth the tense swift utterances came in half-suppressed breathless
tones, save when a sudden loud exclamation now and again whizzed out on
the air like the ascent of a bursting rocket. His fury was such that
even without the disguise of the paint on his face, Stuart might hardly
have recognized him were it not for his peculiarly sinewy, slight
elegance of shape. He had advanced one foot and he brandished his
tomahawk--a furious gesture, but without immediate intention, for now
and again he thrust the weapon into his belt.
"The white captain calls on his friends--and where are they? Not on the
outside of these great guns that bar us from our own. The fort is ours!
_To-e-u-hah!_ It is our own. _To-e-u-hah!_[E] Did we not bargain for it
in solemn treaty! Did we not make our peace and smoke our pipe and give
our belts of white wampum and sign names to the treaty we made with the
white English? _Wahkane?_[F] Did we not join his cause and fight his
battles and shed our blood in his wars against the French? _Wahkane_,
John Stuart, _wahkane_? And for what? That the great King George should
build us some forts in our nation to protect our women and children,
our old men and our young boys while the Cherokee braves are away
fighting the battles of this great King George against the French--yes,
and to make strong the arm of our warriors should the French come here
with the great guns like these, that make naught of the small gun,"--he
looked scornfully at the firelock and shook it in his left hand--"and
the bow and arrows--"he spat upon the ground. "And what does the great
Earl of Loudon? He builds this fort for which we have paid with our
blood! blood! blood!--these guns bought with long marches and burnt
towns and the despiteful usage of the Virginians"--once more he spat
upon the ground. "And then he sends his redcoat soldiers to hold our
fort from us and man our great guns and be a threat and a danger forever
to our peace and make us slaves to the fear of the great cannon!
_Yo-he-wah! Yo-he-wah!_[G] And when we send a talk to tell him this, he
sends more soldiers! And the white men gather together for grief to the
red man, and take the Indians' fort paid for with the Indians' blood and
turn the great cannon against him who bought them with a dear price, and
bar out his entrance from his own"--the foam flew from his lips. "You
call on your friend--where?"
He turned a scornful fiery face to look at the scornful fiery faces
about him. "Where?"
"Here!" Captain Stuart's calm, full voice struck the vibrating air at
least an octave lower than the keen, high vociferation of the Cherokee.
"Here is my friend! That is the moon, Atta-Kulla-Kulla, _neus-se
a-nan-to-ge_"[H]--he lifted his arm and with his debonair, free gesture
pointed at it. "Another sun has not risen. And yet this day, and before
the sun was high, you told me that naught should come between you and
me. You told me that even a cloud coming between you and me could not
separate us because you knew my heart--and my heart swelled with pride
at your words."
He hesitated for a moment; he detected a sudden change in the Indian's
face. "My heart swelled with pride," he went on, firmly, "for I believed
you! And I believe you still, for"--he laid his hand on the Cherokee's
breast in imitation of the gesture of Atta-Kulla-Kulla as he repeated
Atta-Kulla-Kulla's words--"for I know _your heart_."
There was a moment of tense silence. Then not waiting for the dramatic
effect to be lost, he continued: "And now, if you say it is not well to
shut the gates on this array of braves, I open them! I come here because
I am sent--a _unaka_ soldier has no will of his own. He is held to a
strict law, and has no liberty such as your young fighting men, who
sometimes grow rash, however, and make the wisdom of the plans of your
'beloved men,' your sage councils, mere folly. The Earl of Loudon sent
the garrison here. Perhaps if you send a 'talk' to the new head-man,
General Amherst, he will take the soldiers away. I go or stay according
to orders--I march at a word. But to-night the children of the settlers
make merry. I told you this morning of our religion. This day is the
festival of the Child. So the children make merry--you can hear them now
at their play." And indeed there was a sharp, wild squealing upon the
air, and Stuart hoped that the beat of the dancing feet might be
supposed to be of their making and the sound of the music for their
behoof--for the dance of the Indians often heralds war and is not for
sheer joy. "The parents bring them here and share their mirth. For this
is the festival of the Child. Now your warriors are brave and splendid
and terrible to look upon. If they go through the gates, the little
children would be smitten with fear; the heart of a little child is like
a leaf in the wind--so moved by fear. Do not the Cherokee children flee
from me--who am not a great warrior and have not even paint for my
face--when I come to visit you at Nachey Creek. Say the word--and I open
the gates."
There was something in this Cherokee which Stuart saw both then and
afterward, and which also attracted the attention of others, that
indicated not only an acute and subtle intelligence and a natural
benignity, but a wide and varied scope of emotion, truly remarkable in a
savage without education, of course, and without even the opportunity of
observing those of a higher culture and exercising sentiments esteemed
of value and grace in a civilized appraisement. Yet he was experiencing
as poignant a humiliation to be convicted of an ungenerous attitude of
mind and upbraided with a protest belied as if he had been a Knight of
the Round Table, bred to noble thoughts as well as to chivalrous deeds
of arms, and had never taken the scalp of a child or treacherously slain
a sleeping enemy.
Stuart could feel the Cherokee's heart beat fast under his hand.
Atta-Kulla-Kulla grasped it suddenly in his own, gripping it hard for a
moment, while with his other hand he waved a command for his men to
retire, which they did, slowly, with lowering, surprised eyes and
clouded brows.
"Go back!" he said to Stuart. "Hold the gate fast. You make your feast.
Keep it. I believe your words. And because--" there was a slight
convulsion of his features--"of the wicked ways of the wicked Earl
Loudon I have forgot to-night my words I said to-day, I say them
again--and I do not always forget!"
He turned suddenly and went down toward the river, the sad, yellow moon
sending his brown, elongated shadow with its quivering tuft of feathers
far along the stretches of white snow. Captain Stuart paused for a
moment, leaning heavily against the gate; then as he slipped within it
and into the shadow of the wall, he was full glad to hear the dancing
feet, all unconscious of the danger that had been so near, and the
childish treble scream of the unscalped children.
"A little more, and there would have been another massacre of the
innocents," he said, walking slowly across the parade; he had hardly the
strength for a speedier gait. He rescinded the order concerning the hour
at which "tattoo" and "lights out" should sound. "For," he thought,
noticing the cheerful groups in the soldiers' quarters, "I could get
them under arms much more quickly if awake than by drumming them up out
of their beds in barracks."
He carried no sign of the agitation and the significance of the
interview just past when he returned to the prismatic tinted swirl of
the dancing figures in the flaring light of the great fire, made more
brilliant by the glow of the holly boughs and the flutter of banners and
the flash of steel from the decorated walls about them. He, too, trod a
gay measure with the fair Belinda Rush, and never looked more at ease
and care-free and jovially imperious than in the character of gallant
host. Even in the gray dawn as he stood at the sally-port of the fort
and there took leave of the guests, as group by group departed, he was
as debonair and smiling throughout the handshaking as though the revels
were yet to begin.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote D: The Indians in North Carolina called the Christmas holidays
_Winick-kesbuse_, or "the Englishman's God's moon."]
[Footnote E: It is most true.]
[Footnote F: Is it not so?]
[Footnote G: It has been maintained that this exclamation constantly
used by the Cherokees in solemn adjuration signified "Jehovah."]
[Footnote H: Literally "the sun of the night."]