BEN AND ALICE.
"Now that the wedding-feast is disposed of, I must remind you all that
there is yet work to be done. I have not heard from the mill; and poor
old Saturn must be searched for, as well as that unfortunate young man
who has made us so much trouble. It frets me to think I can do nothing.
Philip, you must do service in place of my broken arm."
The party were making ready to go out again, when two or three men
came from the mill, to inquire after the family, and to relate to the
captain the story of the vast damage his property had sustained.
"Oh, what is de riches of dis worl', masser," said Pallas, as she,
too, paused from her work to hear their interesting narrative of wreck
and chaos upon every side, with accounts which had reached them from
people farther down, where the tornado had made a yet more terrible
visitation. "What is de riches of dis worl', when a bref of de Almighty
can sweep 'em away like as dey were dust and trash. My ole masser he
turn you 'way, 'cause yer had no riches, and your chile-wife, she die
of grief; and you come out here and work and work in de wilderness half
as long as de chil'en of Israel--and you set your foot down, _you_ will
be rich, and your chile shall have much to gib her husband when she got
one--and de storm come, and all yer pine-trees is laid low, and yer
mill-wheel is broken at de fountain, and your riches pass 'way in de
whirlwind."
"It's time for me to begin thinking of these things I suppose, Pallas.
But, as to my losses--I can stand 'em. My wood-choppers must work
briskly this winter, among this fallen timber--and as for the old mill,
I think it has gone to pieces to hasten the fulfillment of my plan of
erecting a steam-mill in its place. I've worked for Alice, and now I
must work for Virginia."
"Let us at least," said the clergyman, who was standing by, "be
reminded of our duty by this humble colored woman--let us offer up
thanks for our wonderful preservation."
All knelt, except the disabled raftsman, while the minister offered up
a heartfelt thanksgiving, when the party set forth into the tangled
forest again. Alice, who had been overcome more by anxiety than by
fatigue, was so recruited, that she insisted upon going with Philip.
Her familiarity with the woods she thought would enable her to trace
the way to the spot where Ben would doubtless be found a corpse;
the fact that he was high up in the branches of a tall tree when
the tempest struck the spot, making it almost certain that he was
destroyed. Two or three foresters, Raymond, and Philip, followed their
guide, as she wound through and climbed over matted branches and fallen
trunks, pausing occasionally for some trace of the familiar aspect of
yesterday. In many places the forest looked actually as if a band of
giant reapers had passed that way and mowed down the trees in mighty
swaths. Again, when the tornado had taken a more whirling moment, the
great trunks would be twisted and snapped off in long splinters, ten
or twelve feet from the ground. An overwhelming sense of the terrific
power of their unwelcome visitor oppressed them, as they beheld its
ravages in the broad daylight.
"And yet, dear Philip, it may have been sent by Providence to save
me from a fearful fate--or at least, it _did_ save me, and I am
grateful--oh, so grateful," whispered the young wife, as Philip
assisted her over a huge tree which lay, torn up by the roots, across
their path.
"It must have been somewhere about here," she said, presently.
"I am sure I have no idea of the locality," answered Philip.
"Yes! there is the ledge of rock, and the cavern into which he thrust
me. Poor Ben! I forgive him all. I hardly dare go on--I am afraid I
shall see some dreadful sight;" and she shuddered.
"Perhaps you had better rest yourself, while we search this vicinity
closely."
"Oh, no! I am too nervous to be left alone. I will keep by your side,"
and she clung to his arm, growing paler every moment, and scarcely
daring to look before her.
"Hush!" exclaimed one of the foresters, half-an-hour later, turning
back toward the young couple who were some distance behind. "Don't let
her come near. We've found him; he's dead as a hammer."
Alice sat down upon a fallen tree-trunk, faint and trembling.
"Stay here, dearest, a few moments. I will come back to you," and
Philip went forward with the men to where, amid the ruins of the
forest,--Ben lay, a crushed and senseless human thing. He was
dreadfully mutilated, and to every appearance dead. They dragged him
out from under the heavy branches, and as they did so, a low groan
startled them. One of the men sank down and took the head upon his knee.
"Where's Alice?"
Ben unclosed his eyes, as he asked the question, moving them about from
one face to another with a searching glance.
"I'm dying--bring her quick. Oh, do bring her, won't you?"
The gasping voice was loud and thrilling in the eagerness of its
entreaty. Philip turned away and went for his wife.
"Do you think you can bear the sight?"
"If he wishes to see me, I shall not deny a dying man. He took many a
step for me, in his better days--poor boy."
Ben seemed to distinguish her footsteps as she drew near. He could not
stir, but his eyes turned in that direction.
"Are you cryin' for me?" he asked, as she stood by his side, the tears
flowing down her cheeks like rain. "It's enough to make a man die happy
to see you cryin' for him, Alice."
"O Ben! I wish I could help you," she sobbed.
"I'm past earthly help, and I'm glad of it. It's the best thing could
happen to a used-up fellow like me. I don't blame you for it, Alice,
but I'm to blame for things I've done, and I won't ask you to forgive
me. My head's been on fire for weeks--I've been in a strange state--I
can't recall what I've did or said. Then I got hurt, I don't know
how--and when I could think again, that burning pain in my head was
gone. I knew I was dyin', and I wanted to see you. I wanted to carry
the pictur' of your face to the next world. I shouldn't be ashamed to
show it to the angels--if they'll have any thing to do with a poor,
ignorant fellow like me, as Pallas said they would. You're married,
ain't you?"
"She is my wife," said Philip, gently, taking her hand.
"It made me crazy to think of it once; but it's over now. Alice, you've
my blessin' and my wishes that you may be happy all your life. Forgive
me the trouble I've made ye, and may you and him be happy long after
the grass grows over poor Ben Perkins."
Alice sobbed aloud, and the rough men standing around were grave and
silent. The last sentence had been spoken in a whisper, and it was
evident that life was ebbing away rapidly. He closed his eyes, and the
sweat gathered on the pallid face, but a short time since, rich with
the olive and crimson of health and youth.
"I shan't be twenty-two till next month," he whispered, with shut eyes.
"Put it on my tombstone, and let 'em put on it--
"'Oh, his heart, his heart was broken
For the love of Alice Wilde.'"
They stood looking at him.
"Alice--good-by. Alice--where are you? Alice!"
"Here, Ben--here I am;" but she spoke to a corpse.
He died with the name of the woman he had loved with all the power of
his passionate nature trembling upon his last breath.
The next day they buried him in a lovely spot on the bank of the river;
and, spite of all his errors and crimes, he was not unwept and not
unmourned. Once he had been gay and frank, kind and honest, handsome
and merry--and the memory of his good qualities swept away the judgment
passed upon his later actions.
Poor Saturn's remains were not discovered; and Pallas, with the
superstition of her class, was inclined to believe that he had been
translated bodily, in the chariot of the wind, to that better world of
which they had spoken so much together. It was a pleasant belief, and
afforded her great consolation.
"He allers was so fond of dressin' and good clo'es; and he'd been taken
up in his new suit as if a-purpose to please him. Ef he'd only a
partaken of de weddin'-feas', he couldn't hab been better prepared 'an
he was. Hi! hi!"
It was a picturesque-looking party which sailed away from Wilde's mill
one brilliant day in September.
"One doesn't see such a bridal-party every day, or take such a bridal
tour," remarked Virginia to the groomsman by her side. "It's better
than six fashionable weddings, with the usual routine. I used to have a
contempt for the romantic--but I'm beginning to like it."
Yes, even the aristocratic Virginia, the beautiful metropolitan, began
to be infatuated with the romance of the forest.
We may yet hear of more remarkable changes than her change of opinion.
We may yet see a villa, charming as those which grace our lordly
Hudson, rising amid the elms and beeches on the banks of that fairer
Western river--for love, beauty, taste, and money can accomplish
wonders more surprising than making the wilderness blossom like a
rose--and "out West" Aladdin's lamp is no myth.
But, for the present, we will leave this picturesque party sailing down
this broad, silver river in the purple and gold of an autumn day--leave
it to its joyous light, and leave that one new-made grave to its
silence and shadow.
THE END.
THE GOLDEN BELT
CHAPTER V.
THE CARIB'S PLEDGE.
The next day Hernando mounted his charger, and went forth to the
forest. Guarcia's flower had withered, though he had kept its stem in
crystal water all night. He was impatient to hear her voice again,
athirst for the sweet words that told him of her love. As he galloped
through the forest, followed by the hounds that had learned to crouch
at Guarcia's feet and play lovingly with her fawns, a figure stepped
suddenly across his path and seized his horse by the bit. The horse,
restive at feeling a strange hand near his head, made an attempt to
rear, but the Carib savage drew him back to the earth with a wrench
of his strong arm, and, before Hernando could speak, was looking him
gravely in his face.
"Come with me, stranger, there is a black cloud over this path."
"I am used to danger, chief, as some of your tribe may know," said
Hernando, smiling, as he touched the hilt of his sword.
"Vipers are not killed with weapons like that," answered the chief; "it
is with them you have to deal."
"Well, what of them? I prefer an open foe, like the warriors of your
tribe. You are an enemy to our people, but now and straightforward what
other assailant need I fear?"
"We are foes to the Spaniard, but not to you. Come, and I will show you
the snares which white men lay for each other."
"But what if this were itself a snare?"
The Indian drew a knife from his belt, and seizing Hernando's hand in
his iron grasp, pierced a vein with the point. Applying his lips to the
cut, he drew a mouthful of blood and swallowed it. Then dashing one
clenched hand against his broad chest, he exclaimed, with vehemence:
"The blood of my pale brother flows here. What Carib ever betrayed his
own blood?"
Hernando knew that this was a sacred pledge, and turning to the Indian,
with a smile, bade him lead on.
The Indian did not smile, but his eyes broke into a blaze of delight,
and, with a gesture, he plunged into the forest.
Some four or five miles from the place of the encounter lay a stretch
of swampy land, dark and dismal as stagnant water and the slimy growth
of swamp vegetation could render it. Many a rough passage and deep
gully lay between the broad savannas and this dreary spot; but the
savage passed them without halting, and Hernando followed, though his
good steed grew restive with the broken path. At last they came out on
a precipice which it was impossible that the horse could descend.
"Leave your beast here--he will be safe," said the Indian pointing to a
footpath which wound like a black serpent down the precipice.
Hernando dismounted, tied his horse to a sapling, and prepared to
follow his guide on foot. With a step as firm and more rapid than a
wild goat's, the savage took to the path. Hernando followed. With
a fearless and steady step, they wound their way still on the edge
of the precipice, till the moon had risen, and flung her luxuriant
gilding upon every object. They now walked more rapidly, and soon took
a southern course, and began to descend. Hernando now understood where
he was going. The continual and monotonous cries of the frogs, and the
tall trees with their long festoons of Spanish moss--which hung over
the alluvial bottom, like the curtains of a funeral pall--indicated
sufficiently that they were approximating, or had already reached the
Cypress Swamp. Many a slimy toad hopped croaking out of their way, as
they advanced in the swamps, and the angry scream of some huge "swamp
owl," as it flapped its broad wings, and malignantly snapped its bill
at them, gave him a hint that it was time to tread warily in the tracks
of his guide, or he might suddenly be precipitated headlong into the
mud and slime, for they were approaching the interior of the swamp.
After walking for some time, till even the Indian, whose knowledge
of that country was unlimited, was constrained to step with extreme
caution, for fear of sinking into the deceptive mud, they stopped. The
scene around bore a terrifying appearance--not one step further could
they advance, without being overwhelmed in mud and water. As far as
the eye could see, by the imperfect light which penetrated that dismal
spot, was but one sickening sight of the green mud and water, where no
human foot could tread without sinking ten feet or more, to find death
at the bottom.
"Look upon that spot," said the savage, pointing with his finger to
a pool of stagnant water; it had the appearance of being deep, and a
large green frog sat on a broken stump that floated there, with his
gray eyes fixed upon them, and with his hind legs drawn under him, as
if preparing to leap into their faces. Hernando turned his eyes away
from this loathsome sight. "That spot," continued the savage, still
pointing toward it--"that spot was to have been my white brother's
grave."
"What!" exclaimed Hernando, recoiling; "what you say can not be
true--who could make that spot my grave? Is this a time for trifling
with me, chief?"
"It is not, my white brother! I did not bring you here to play with
your feelings, but to save your life; you look at me,--you would
inquire what interest I have in saving your life. Listen: It was a
great many summers ago, when a Carib chief went out to shoot deer; he
walked all day--no deer--he sat on a log, tired and hungry; while he
sat there, weak and tired, almost asleep, a crouching panther sprang
upon him and bore him to the earth; the Carib fought hard, for he was
fighting for his life, but he was weak and hungry, and the panther
seized him and was bearing him off, when a white man, who heard the
noise, came running to the spot. He, drawing his knife like a true
warrior, jumped upon the enraged animal's back, and stabbed him to the
heart. The Indian was saved. The white man had a warrior's heart--he
took from his wallet some provisions, which he gave to his starving
brother, and bade him eat, then he walked off. The Carib's heart
swelled, and when the pale man had disappeared, he fell upon one knee,
and called the Great Spirit to witness, and he swore an oath; he swore
in the presence of that mighty Spirit to protect all in whom that pale
man's blood flowed."
"That man was my father," interrupted Hernando; "I have heard him tell
that story many times; and what became of the Carib?"
"He stands before you! Now will my pale brother suspect me of playing
with his feelings? But stay. The Carib became a great chief in his
nation, and sat in the councils of Caonabo. He still hunted in these
woods, and as he hunted three suns ago, sounds came to his ears, more
terrific than the swamp owl's, for it was not the sound of defiance,
but of cowardly murder. Two men advanced; your brother, who did not
wish to be seen, stepped behind a tree. It was a big Captain of the
fort, and a man whom I have seen taking care of the horses at the
fort--a slim-faced Spaniard, with eyes like a snake's; their looks were
black, and they talked of murder; your brother understood, for he had
learned their language in trading with them; they struck upon the track
that we have just passed--what would they in this track, for no game
can live here? Your brother followed them cautiously, and the slim one
cursed my white brother, because he loved a daughter of the Spaniard
whose mother was a Carib princess, and he swore he should be killed,
and hid from his comrades in the black heart of the cypress swamp. I
left them, and hunted you--here we are!"
Hernando was thunderstruck at what he heard; a feeling of horror
pervaded his frame, as he looked around on that dismal spot. The tall
trees above them bore no other verdure than the rank Spanish moss,
which swept the swamp far and wide, and the dark green water, with its
thousand loathsome reptiles, was horrible to look upon.
"My brother must keep a sharp eye about him--he must play the fox, and
if the Spaniards are too strong, send this belt to Orazimbo, and he
will find your brother, who will come to your help though he must bring
as many warriors as there are leaves on the trees."
Hernando took the belt, which glittered richly even in that murky
light; for it was a girdle of virgin gold, flexible, from its own
purity, with a rivulet of burning opal stones, rough emeralds, and rude
gems running through it like a rainbow.
READY AUGUST 15TH.
BEADLE'S DIME NOVELS, NO. 5.--"THE GOLDEN BELT; OR, THE CARIB'S
PLEDGE," COMPLETE.
Transcriber's Notes:
Added table of contents.
Italics are represented with _underscores_.
Retained some unusual (presumed archaic) spellings (e.g. "musquitoes").
Page 10, added missing quote after "no older."
Page 13, added missing quote after "new clo'es."
Page 15, changed "a a watchin'" to "a watchin'" and added missing
period after "right away."
Page 32, the line "The sun went down in a clear sky; there were no
clouds to" appeared several lines above its intended position; it has
been moved down.
Page 51, changed "your love-cracked" to "you're love-cracked."
Page 54, added missing period after "her fears."
Page 63, changed "of of thrashing" to "of thrashing."
Page 65, changed "somethimg" to "something."
Page 88, added missing period after "dis worl'."
Page 91, removed extra quote after "sure 'nuff."
Page 96, changed period to question mark in "May I pray for you, Ben?"
Page 104, changed comma to period after "groomsman with Virginia."
Added missing period after "rag-carpeting."
Page 105, changed period to question mark after "upon my trips?"
Page 113, changed comma to period after "in de wood."
Page 124, changed "begining" to "beginning."