Anxious though Paul Burns naturally was for the fate of the crew of the
_Water Wagtail_, he could not help being interested in, and impressed
by, the fine country which he was thus unexpectedly obliged to traverse.
His mind being of a practical and utilitarian cast, as well as
religious, he not only admired the grand and richly diversified land as
being part of the works of God, but as being eminently suitable for the
use and enjoyment of man.
"Look there," he said to Captain Trench, as they plodded steadily along,
at the same time pointing to a break in a neighbouring cliff which
revealed the geological features of the land. "Do you see yonder beds
of rock of almost every colour in the rainbow? These are marble-beds,
and from the look of the parts that crop out I should say they are
extensive."
"But not of much use," returned the captain, "so long as men are content
to house themselves in huts of bark and skins."
"So might some short-sighted mortal among our own savage forefathers
have said long ago if the mineral wealth of Britain had been pointed out
to him," returned Paul. "Yet we have lived to see the Abbey of
Westminster and many other notable edifices arise in our land."
"Then you look forward to such-like rising in this land?" said the
captain, with something of a cynical smile.
"Well, not exactly, Master Trench; but our grandchildren may see them,
if men will only colonise the land and strive to develop its resources
on Christian principles."
"Such as--?" asked Trench.
"Such as the doing to others as one would have others do to one's-self,
and the enacting of equal laws for rich and poor."
"Then will Newfoundland _never_ be developed," said the captain
emphatically; "for history tells us that the bulk of men have never been
guided by such principles since the days of Adam."
"Since when were you enrolled among the prophets, Master Trench?"
"Since you uttered the previous sentence, Master Paul. I appeal to your
own knowledge of history."
"Nay, I question not your historical views, but your prophetical
statements, as to the fate of this island. Have you not heard of this
writing--that `the knowledge of the Lord shall cover the earth as the
waters cover the sea?' Does not that signify completeness in the spread
of knowledge? And when that comes to pass, will it bear no good fruit?
If not, why is it recorded as a blessed state of things to which we may
look forward, and towards which we may strive? I admit that the
wickedness of man may delay the desired end. Unjust laws, interference
with freedom of action, hatred of truth, may check progress here as it
has done elsewhere; but who can tell how soon the truth, as it is in
Jesus, may begin to operate, or how rapidly it may culminate?"
"You may be right, Master Paul; I know not. Anyhow I withdraw my claim
to be numbered with the prophets--all the more that I see Strongbow
making signals which I don't rightly understand."
The Indian guide, who had been walking somewhat in advance of the party,
was seen standing on the summit of a knoll making signals, not to his
friends behind him, but apparently to some one in front. Hastening
forward they soon found that he had discovered friends,--a body of
Indians, who were hurrying to meet him; while down in the valley beyond,
which suddenly burst upon their view, stood an extensive Indian village.
It was of that evanescent and movable kind, which consists of cone-like
tents made of skins and bark spread upon poles.
"They are friends," said Strongbow, when Hendrick and the others reached
him; "kinsmen of the murdered Little Beaver."
"Friends of Hendrick also, I see," said the captain to Paul, as the
hunter hastened forward to meet the Indians and salute them.
He was right, and a few minutes' conversation with his friends sufficed
to put the guide in possession of all he wished to know. Returning to
his companions, he at once relieved their minds, to some extent at
least, by telling them that it was indeed the tribe into whose hands
their old shipmates had fallen, and that the sailors were still alive
and well, though prisoners, and lying under sentence of death.
"Come, that at all events is good news," said Paul. "I thank God we are
not too late, and I make no doubt that we will persuade the Indians to
delay execution of the sentence till we find out whether or not they
have been guilty of this murder. Some of our old shipmates I know are
capable of it, but others are certainly innocent."
Hendrick did not at once reply. It was evident from his looks that he
had not much hope in the merciful disposition of the Indians.
"I know some men of this tribe," he said, "but not all of them--though
they all know me by report. You may at least depend on my influence
being used to the utmost in behalf of your friends. Come, we will
descend."
A few minutes' walk brought them to the foot of the hill where the
Indian tents were pitched. Here they found a multitude of men, women,
and children watching them as they descended the hill, and, from the
looks of many of the former, it seemed not at all improbable that a
rough reception awaited them.
"You see," said Paul, in a low voice to the captain, "they probably
class us with the murderers, because of our white skins. Our only hope,
under God, rests in Hendrick."
That Paul's hope was not ill-founded became apparent the moment the
hunter made himself known. For the scowling brows cleared at once, and
one or two men, who had formerly met with the white hunter, came forward
and saluted him in the European manner which he had already taught to
many of the red men, namely, with a shake of the hand.
A great palaver followed in the wigwam of the chief, Bearpaw, in the
course of which many things were talked about; but we confine our record
to that part of the talk which bears specially on our tale.
"The men must die," said Bearpaw sternly. "What you tell me about their
harsh treatment of their chief and his son and friend only proves them
to be the more deserving of death. My two young braves who visited them
on the island were treated like dogs by some of them, and Little Beaver
they have slain. It is just that they should die."
"But my three friends here," returned Hendrick, "treated your braves
well, and they had no knowledge or part in the killing of Little Beaver.
Perhaps the palefaces did _not_ kill him. Do they admit that they
did?"
"How can we tell what they admit? We know not their language, nor they
ours. But there is no need to palaver. Did not Strongbow and his
braves find the dead body of Little Beaver bruised and broken? Did they
not see his black dog in the paleface camp, and has not Rising Sun
disappeared like the early frost before the sun? Doubtless she is now
in the camp with those palefaces who have escaped us, but whom we will
yet hunt down and kill."
"Bearpaw is right," said Hendrick, "murderers deserve to die. But
Bearpaw is also just; he will let the men of the sea speak in their own
defence now that I am here to interpret?"
"Bearpaw is just," returned the chief. "He will hear what the palefaces
have got to say. One of the young men will take you to their prison."
He signed as he spoke to a young Indian, who instantly left the tent,
followed by Hendrick and his friends.
Passing right through the village the party reached a precipice, on the
face of which was what appeared to be the entrance to a cavern. Two
Indians stood in front of it on guard. A voice was heard within, which
struck familiarly, yet strangely, on Paul and the captain's ears. And
little wonder, for it was the voice of Grummidge engaged in the
unaccustomed act of prayer! The young Indian paused, and, with a solemn
look, pointed upwards, as if to intimate that he understood the
situation, and would not interrupt. Those whom he led also paused and
listened--as did the sentinels, though they understood no word of what
was said.
Poor Grummidge had evidently been brought very low, for his once manly
voice was weak and his tones were desponding. Never before, perhaps,
was prayer offered in a more familiar or less perfunctory manner.
"O Lord," he said, "_do_ get us out o' this here scrape somehow! We
don't deserve it, though we _are_ awful sinners, for we've done nothin'
as I knows on to hurt them savages. We can't speak to them an' they
can't speak to us, an' there's nobody to help us. Won't _you_ do it,
Lord?"
"Sure it's no manner o' use goin' on like that, Grummidge," said another
voice. "You've done it more than wance a'ready, an' there's no answer.
Very likely we've bin too wicked intirely to deserve an answer at all."
"Speak for yourself Squill," growled a voice that was evidently that of
Little Stubbs. "I don't think I've been as wicked as you would make
out, nor half as wicked as yourself! Anyhow, I'm goin' to die game, if
it comes to that. We can only die once, an' it'll soon be over."
"Ochone!" groaned Squill, "av it wasn't for the short allowance they've
putt us on, an' the bad walkin' every day, an' all day, I wouldn't mind
so much, but I've scarce got strength enough left to sneeze, an' as to
my legs, och! quills they are instid of Squill's."
"For shame, man," remonstrated Grummidge, "to be makin' your bad jokes
at a time like this."
The tone of the conversation now led the young Indian to infer that
interruption might not be inappropriate, so he turned round the corner
of rock that hid the interior from view, and led his party in front of
the captives. They were seated on the ground with their backs against
the wall, and their arms tied behind them.
The aspect of the unfortunate prisoners was indeed forlorn. It would
have been ludicrous had it not been intensely pitiful. So woe-begone
and worn were their faces that their friends might have been excused had
they failed to recognise them, but, even in the depths of his misery and
state of semi-starvation, it was impossible to mistake the expressive
visage of poor Squill, whose legs were indeed reduced to something not
unsuggestive of "quills," to say nothing of the rest of his body.
But all the other prisoners, Grummidge, Stubbs, Blazer, Taylor, and
Garnet, were equally reduced and miserable, for the harsh treatment and
prolonged journeying through forest and swamp, over hill and dale, on
insufficient food, had not only brought them to the verge of the grave,
but had killed outright one or two others of the crew who had started
with them.
The visitors, owing to their position with their backs to the light of
the cave's mouth, could not be recognised by the prisoners, who regarded
them with listless apathy, until Captain Trench spoke, swallowing with
difficulty a lump of some sort that nearly choked him.
"Hallo! shipmates! how goes it? Glad to have found ye, lads."
"Och!" exclaimed Squill, starting up, as did all his companions; but no
other sound was uttered for a few seconds. Then a deep "thank God"
escaped from Grummidge, and Little Stubbs tried to cheer, but with small
success; while one or two, sitting down again, laid their thin faces in
their hands and wept.
Reader, it were vain to attempt a description of the scene that
followed, for the prisoners were not only overwhelmed with joy at a
meeting so unexpected, but were raised suddenly from the depths of
despair to the heights of confident hope, for they did not doubt that
the appearance of their mates as friends of the Indians was equivalent
to their deliverance. Even when told that their deliverance was by no
means a certainty, their joy was only moderated, and their hope but
slightly reduced.
"But tell me," said Paul, as they all sat down together in the cave,
while the Indians stood by and looked silently on, "what is the truth
about this Indian who was murdered, and the dog and the woman?"
"The Indian was never murdered," said Grummidge stoutly. "He had
evidently fallen over the precipice. We found him dead and we buried
him. His dog came to us at last and made friends with us, though it ran
away the day the settlement was attacked. As to the woman, we never saw
or heard of any woman at all till this hour!"
When Bearpaw was told how the matter actually stood, he frowned and said
sternly--
"The palefaces lie. If they never saw Rising Sun, why did she not come
back to us and tell what had happened? She was not a little child. She
was strong and active, like the young deer. She could spear fish and
snare rabbits as well as our young men. Why did she not return? Where
is she? Either she is dead and the palefaces have killed her, or they
have her still among them. Not only shall the palefaces answer for her
with their lives, but the Bethucks will go on the war-path to the coast
and sweep the paleface settlement into the sea!"
It was of no avail that Hendrick pleaded the cause of the prisoners
earnestly, and set forth eloquently all that could be said in their
favour, especially urging that some of them had been kind to the two
Indians who first visited the white men. Rising Sun had been a
favourite with the chief; she was dead--and so the palefaces must die!