"And underneath that face like summer's dreams,
Its lips as moveless, and its cheek as clear,
Slumbers a whirlwind of the heart's emotions,
Love, hatred, pride, hope, sorrow--all save fear."
--HALLECK.
The only singularity connected with the great age of the Indian and the
negro, was the fact that they should have been associates for near a
century, and so long intimately united in adventures and friendship. I
say friendship, for the term was not at all unsuited to the feeling that
connected these old men together, though they had so little in common in
the way of character. While the Indian possessed all the manly and high
qualities of a warrior of the woods, of a chief, and of one who had
never acknowledged a superior, the other was necessarily distinguished
by many of the wickednesses of a state of servitude; the bitter
consequences of a degraded caste. Fortunately both were temperate, by no
means an every-day virtue among the red-men who dwelt with the whites,
though much more so with the blacks. But Susquesus was born at Onondago,
a tribe remarkable for its sobriety, and at no period of his long life
would he taste any intoxicating drink, while Jaaf was essentially a
sober man, though he had a thorough "nigger" relish for hard cider.
There can be little doubt that these two aged memorials of past ages,
and almost forgotten generations, owed their health and strength to
their temperance, fortifying natural predispositions to tenacity of
life.
It was always thought that Jaaf was a little the senior of the Indian,
though the difference in their ages could not be great. It is certain
that the red-man retained much the most of his bodily powers, though,
for fifty years, he had taxed them the least. Susquesus never worked;
never would work in the ordinary meaning of the term. He deemed it to be
beneath his dignity as a warrior, and, I have heard it said, that
nothing but necessity could have induced him to plant, or hoe, even when
in his prime. So long as the boundless forest furnished the deer, the
moose, the beaver, the bear, and the other animals that it is usual for
the red-man to convert into food, he had cared little for the fruits of
the earth, beyond those that were found growing in their native state.
His hunts were the last regular occupation that the old man abandoned.
He carried the rifle, and threaded the woods with considerable vigor
after he had seen a hundred winters; but the game deserted him, under
the never-dying process of clearing acre after acre, until little of the
native forest was left, with the exception of the reservation of my own,
already named, and the pieces of woodland that are almost invariably
attached to every American farm, lending to the landscape a relief and
beauty that are usually wanting to the views of older countries. It is
this peculiarity which gives to so many of the views of the republic,
nay, it may be said to all of them, so much of the character of
park-scenery when seen at a distance, that excludes the blemishes of a
want of finish, and the coarser appliances of husbandry.
With Jaaf, though he had imbibed a strong relish for the forest, and for
forest-life, it was different in many respects. Accustomed to labor from
childhood, _he_ could not be kept from work, even by his extreme old
age. He had the hoe, or the axe, or the spade in his hand daily, many
years after he could wield either to any material advantage. The little
he did in this way, now, was not done to kill thought, for he never had
any to kill; it was purely the effect of habit, and of a craving desire
to be Jaaf still, and to act his life over again.
I am sorry to say that neither of these men had any essential knowledge,
or any visible feeling for the truths of Christianity. A hundred years
ago, little spiritual care was extended to the black, and the difficulty
of making an impression in this way on the Indian has become matter of
history. Perhaps success best attends such efforts when the pious
missionary can penetrate to the retired village, and disseminate his
doctrines far from the miserable illustration of their effects, that is
to be hourly traced, by the most casual observer, amid the haunts of
civilized men. That Christianity does produce a deep and benign
influence on our social condition cannot be doubted; but he who is only
superficially acquainted with Christian nations, as they are called, and
sets about tracing the effects of this influence, meets with so many
proofs of a contrary nature, as to feel a strong disposition to doubt
the truth of dogmas that seem so impotent. It is quite likely such was
the case with Susquesus, who had passed all the earlier years of his
exclusive association with the pale-faces, on the flanks of armies, or
among hunters, surveyors, runners, and scouts; situations that were not
very likely to produce any high notions of moral culture. Nevertheless,
many earnest and long-continued efforts had been made to awaken in this
aged Indian some notions of the future state of a pale-face, and to
persuade him to be baptized. My grandmother, in particular, had kept
this end in view for quite half a century, but with no success. The
different clergy, of all denominations, had paid more or less attention
to this Indian, with the same object, though no visible results had
followed their efforts. Among others, Mr. Warren had not overlooked this
part of his duty, but he had met with no more success than those who had
been before him. Singular as it seemed to some, though I saw nothing
strange in it, Mary Warren had joined in this benevolent project with a
gentle zeal, and affectionate and tender interest, that promised to
achieve more than had been even hoped for these many years by her
predecessors in the same kind office. Her visits to the hut had been
frequent, and I learned that morning from Patt, that, "though Mary
herself never spoke on the subject, enough has been seen by others to
leave no doubt that her gentle offices and prayers had, at last,
touched, in some slight degree, the marble-like heart of the Trackless."
As for Jaaf, it is possible that it was his misfortune to be a slave in
a family that belonged to the Episcopal Church, a sect that is so
tempered and chastened in its religious rites, and so far removed from
exaggeration, as often to seem cold to those who seek excitement, and
fancy quiet and self-control incompatible with a lively faith. "Your
priests are unsuited to make converts among the people," said an
enthusiastic clergyman of another denomination to me, quite lately.
"They cannot go among the brambles and thorns without tearing their
gowns and surplices." There may be a certain degree of truth in this,
though the obstacle exists rather with the convert than with the
missionary. The vulgar love coarse excitement, and fancy that a profound
spiritual sensibility must needs awaken a powerful physical sympathy. To
such, groans, and sighs, and lamentations must be not only audible to
exist at all, but audible in a dramatic and striking form with men, in
order to be groans, and sighs, and lamentations acceptable with God. It
is certain, at any rate, that the practices which reason, education, a
good taste, and a sound comprehension of Christian obligations condemn,
are, if not _most_ effective, still effective with the ignorant and
coarse-minded. Thus may it have been with Jaaf, who had not fallen into
the hands of the exaggerated during that period of life when he was most
likely to be aroused by their practices, and who now really seemed to
have lived beyond everything but the recollections connected with the
persons and things he loved in youth.
As men, in the higher meaning of the term, the reader will remember that
Susquesus was ever vastly the superior of the black. Jaaf's intellect
had suffered under the blight which seems to have so generally caused
the African mind to wither, as we know that mind among ourselves; while
that of his associate had ever possessed much of the loftiness of a
grand nature, left to its native workings by the impetus of an
unrestrained, though savage liberty.
Such were the characters of the two extraordinary men whom we now went
forth to meet. By the time we reached the lawn, they were walking slowly
toward the piazza, having got within the range of the shrubbery that
immediately surrounds, and sheds its perfume on the house. The Indian
led, as seemed to become his character and rank. But Jaaf had never
presumed on his years and indulgences so far as to forget his condition.
A slave he had been born, a slave had he lived, and a slave he would
die. This, too, in spite of the law of emancipation, which had, in fact,
liberated him long ere he had reached his hundredth year. I have been
told that when my father announced to Jaaf the fact that he and all his
progeny, the latter of which was very numerous, were free and at liberty
to go and do as they pleased, the old black was greatly dissatisfied.
"What good dat all do, Masser Malbone," he growled. "Why 'ey won't let
well alone? Nigger be nigger, and white gentle'em be white gentle'em. I
'speck, now, nuttin' but disgrace and poverty come on my breed! We
always _hab_ been gentle'em's nigger, and why can't 'ey let us be
gentle'em's nigger as long as we like? Ole Sus hab liberty all he life,
and what good he get? Nuttin' but poor red sabbage, for all dat, and
never be anyt'ing more. If he could be gentle'em's sabbage, I tell him,
_dat_ war' somet'ing; but, no, he too proud for dat! Gosh! so he only he
own sabbage!"
The Onondago was in high costume; much higher even than when he first
received the visit of the prairie Indians. The paint he used gave new
fire to eyes that age had certainly dimmed, though they had not
extinguished their light; and fierce and savage as was the conceit, it
unquestionably relieved the furrows of time. That red should be as much
the favorite color of the redskin is, perhaps, as natural as that our
ladies should use cosmetics to imitate the lilies and roses that are
wanting. A grim fierceness, however, was the aim of the Onondago; it
being his ambition, at that moment, to stand before his guests in the
colors of a warrior. Of the medals and wampum, and feathers, and
blankets, and moccasons, gay with the quills of the porcupine, tinged
half a dozen hues, and the tomahawk polished to the brightness of
silver, it is not necessary to say anything. So much has been said, and
written, and seen, of late, on such subjects, that almost every one now
knows how the North American warrior appears when he comes forth in his
robes.
Nor had Jaaf neglected to do honor to a festival that was so peculiarly
in honor of his friend. Grumble he would and did, throughout the whole
of that day; but he was not the less mindful of the credit and honor of
Susquesus. It is the fashion of the times to lament the disappearance of
the red-men from among us; but, for my part, I feel much more disposed
to mourn over the disappearance of the "nigger." I use the Doric, in
place of the more modern and mincing term of "colored man;" for the
Doric alone will convey to the American the meaning in which I wish to
be understood. I regret the "nigger;" the old-fashioned, careless,
light-hearted, laborious, idle, roguish, honest, faithful, fraudulent,
grumbling, dogmatical slave; who was at times good for nothing, and,
again, the stay and support of many a family. But him I regret in
particular is the domestic slave, who identified himself with the
interests, and most of all with the _credit_ of those he served, and who
always played the part of an humble privy counsellor, and sometimes that
of a prime minister. It is true, I had never seen Jaaf acting in the
latter capacity, among us; nor is it probable he ever did exactly
discharge such functions with any of his old masters; but he was a much
indulged servant always, and had become so completely associated with
us, by not only long services, but by playing his part well and manfully
in divers of the wild adventures that are apt to characterize the
settlement of a new country, that we all of us thought of him rather as
an humble and distant relative, than as a slave. Slave, indeed, he had
not been for more than fourscore years, his manumission-papers having
been signed and regularly recorded as far back as that, though they
remained a perfect dead letter, so far as the negro himself was
concerned.
The costume of Yop Littlepage, as this black was familiarly called by
all who knew anything of his existence, and his great age, as well as
that of Susquesus, had gotten into more than one newspaper, was of what
might be termed the old school of the "nigger!" The coat was scarlet,
with buttons of mother-of-pearl, each as large as a half-dollar; his
breeches were sky blue; the vest was green; the stockings striped blue
and white, and the legs had no other peculiarities about them than the
facts that all that remained of the calves was on the shins, and that
they were stepped nearer than is quite common to the centre of the foot;
the heel-part of the latter being about half as long as the part
connected with the toes. The shoes, indeed, were somewhat conspicuous
portions of the dress, having a length, and breadth, and proportions
that might almost justify a naturalist in supposing that they were never
intended for a human being. But the head and hat, according to Jaaf's
own notion, contained the real glories of his toilet and person. As for
the last, it was actually laced, having formed a part of my grandfather
General Cornelius Littlepage's uniform in the field, and the wool
beneath it was as white as the snow of the hills. This style of dress
has long disappeared from among the black race, as well as from among
the whites; but vestiges of it were to be traced, my uncle tells me, in
his boyhood; particularly at the pinkster holidays, that peculiar
festival of the negro. Notwithstanding the incongruities of his attire,
Yop Littlepage made a very respectable figure on this occasion, the
great age of both him and the Onondago being the circumstances that
accorded least with their magnificence.
Notwithstanding the habitual grumbling of the negro, the Indian always
led when they made a movement. He had led in the forest, on the early
hunts and on the war-paths; he had led in their later excursions on the
neighboring hills; he always led when it was their wont to stroll to the
hamlet together, to witness the militia musters and other similar
striking events; he even was foremost when they paid their daily visits
to the Nest; and, now, he came a little in advance, slow in movement,
quiet, with lips compressed, eye roving and watchful, and far from dim,
and his whole features wonderfully composed and noble, considering the
great number of years he had seen. Jaaf followed at the same gait, but a
very different man in demeanor and aspect. _His_ face scarce seemed
human, even the color of his skin, once so glistening and black, having
changed to a dirty gray, all its gloss having disappeared, while his
lips were, perhaps, the most prominent feature. These, too, were in
incessant motion, the old man working his jaws, in a sort of second
childhood; or as the infant bites its gums to feel its nearly developed
teeth, even when he was not keeping up the almost unceasing
accompaniment of his grumbles.
As the old man walked toward us, and the men of the prairies had not yet
shown themselves, we all advanced to meet the former. Every one of our
party, the girls included, shook hands with Susquesus, and wished him a
good morning. He knew my grandmother, and betrayed some strong feeling,
when he shook _her_ hand. He knew Patt, and nodded kindly in answer to
her good wishes. He knew Mary Warren, too, and held her hand a little
time in his own, gazing at her wistfully the while. My uncle Ro and I
were also recognized, his look at me being earnest and long. The two
other girls were courteously received, but his feelings were little
interested in them. A chair was placed for Susquesus on the lawn, and he
took his seat. As for Jaaf, he walked slowly up to the party, took off
his fine cocked hat, but respectfully refused the seat he too was
offered. Happening thus to be the last saluted, he was the first with
whom my grandmother opened the discourse.
"It is a pleasant sight, Jaaf, to see you, and our old friend Susquesus,
once more on the lawn of the old house."
"Not so berry ole house, Miss Duss, a'ter all," answered the negro, in
his grumbling way. "Remem'er him well 'nough; only built tudder day."
"It has been built threescore years, if you call that the other day. I
was then young myself; a bride--happy and blessed far beyond my deserts.
Alas! how changed have things become since that time!"
"Yes, you won'erful changed--must say _dat_ for you, Miss Duss. I
sometime surprise myself so young a lady get change so berry soon."
"Ah! Jaaf, though it may seem a short time to you, who are so much my
senior, fourscore years are a heavy load to carry. I enjoy excellent
health and spirits for my years: but age will assert its power."
"Remem'er you, Miss Duss, like dat young lady dere," pointing at
Patt--"now you _do_ seem won'erful change. Ole Sus, too, berry much
alter of late--can't hole out much longer, I do t'ink. But Injin nebber
hab much raal grit in 'em."
"And you, my friend," continued my grandmother, turning to Susquesus,
who had sat motionless while she was speaking to Jaaf--"do you also see
this great change in me? I have known you much longer than I have known
Jaaf; and _your_ recollection of me must go back nearly to childhood--to
the time when I first lived in the woods, as a companion of my dear,
excellent old uncle, Chainbearer."
"Why should Susquesus forget little wren? Hear song now in his ear. No
change at all in little wren, in Susquesus's eye."
"This is at least gallant, and worthy of an Onondago chief. But, my
worthy friend, age will make its mark even on the trees; and we cannot
hope to escape it forever!"
"No; bark smooth on young tree--rough on ole tree. Nebber forget
Chainbearer. He's same age as Susquesus--little ole'er, too. Brave
warrior--good man. Know him when young hunter--he dere when _dat_
happen."
"When _what_ happened, Susquesus? I have long wished to know what drove
you from your people; and why you, a red man in your heart and habits,
to the last, should have so long lived among us pale-faces, away from
your own tribe. I can understand why you like _us_, and wish to pass the
remainder of your days with this family; for I know all that we have
gone through together, and your early connection with my father-in-law,
and _his_ father-in-law, too; but the reason why you left your own
people so young, and have now lived near a hundred years away from them,
is what I could wish to hear, before the angel of death summons one of
us away."
While my grandmother was thus coming to the point, for the first time in
her life, on this subject, as she afterward told me, the Onondago's eye
was never off her own. I thought he seemed surprised; then his look
changed to sadness; and bowing his head a little, he sat a long time,
apparently musing on the past. The subject had evidently aroused the
strongest of the remaining feelings of the old man, and the allusion to
it had brought back images of things long gone by, that were probably
reviewed not altogether without pain. I think his head must have been
bowed, and his face riveted on the ground, for quite a minute.
"Chainbearer nebber say why?" the old man suddenly asked, raising his
face again to look at my grandmother. "Ole chief, too--he know; nebber
talk of it, eh?"
"Never. I have heard both my uncle and my father-in-law say that they
knew the reason why you left your people, so many long, long, years ago,
and that it did you credit; but neither ever said more. It is reported
here, that these red-men, who have come so far to see you, also know it,
and that it is one reason of their coming so much out of their way to
pay you a visit."
Susquesus listened attentively, though no portion of his person
manifested emotion but his eyes. All the rest of the man seemed to be
made of some material that was totally without sensibility; but those
restless, keen, still penetrating eyes, opened a communication with the
being within, and proved that the spirit was far younger than the
tenement in which it dwelt. Still, he made no revelation; and our
curiosity, which was getting to be intense, was completely baffled. It
was even some little time before the Indian said anything more at all.
When he did speak, it was merely to say--
"Good. Chainbearer wise chief--Gin'ral wise, too. Good in camp--good at
council-fire. Know _when_ to talk--know _what_ to talk."
How much further my dear grandmother might have been disposed to push
the subject, I cannot say, for just then we saw the redskins coming out
of their quarters, evidently about to cross from the old farm to the
lawn, this being their last visit to the Trackless, preparatory to
departing on their long journey to the prairies. Aware of all this, she
fell back, and my uncle led Susquesus to the tree where the benches were
placed for the guests, I carrying the chair in the rear. Everybody
followed, even to all the domestics who could be spared from the
ordinary occupations of the household.
The Indian and the negro were both seated; and chairs having been
brought out for the members of the family, we took our places near by,
though so much in the back ground as not to appear obtrusive.
The Indians of the prairies arrived in their customary marching order,
or in single files. Manytongues led, followed by Prairiefire;
Flintyheart and Eaglesflight came next, and the rest succeeded in a
nameless but perfect order. To our surprise, however, they brought the
two prisoners with them, secured with savage ingenuity, and in a way to
render escape nearly impossible.
It is unnecessary to dwell on the deportment of these strangers, as they
took their allotted places on the benches, it being essentially the same
as that described in their first visit. The same interest, however, was
betrayed in their manner, nor did their curiosity or veneration appear
to be in the least appeased by having passed a day or two in the
immediate vicinity of their subject. That this curiosity and veneration
proceeded, in some measure, from the great age and the extended
experience of the Trackless was probable enough, but I could not divest
myself of the idea that there lay something unusual behind all, which
tradition had made familiar to these sons of the soil, but which had
become lost to us.
The American savage enjoys one great advantage over the civilized man of
the same quarter of the world. His traditions ordinarily are true,
whereas, the multipled means of imparting intelligence among ourselves
has induced so many pretenders to throw themselves into the ranks of the
wise and learned, that blessed, thrice blessed is he, whose mind escapes
the contamination of falsehood and prejudice. Well would it be for men
if they oftener remembered that the very facilities that exist to
circulate the truth, are just so many facilities for circulating
falsehood; and that he who believes even one-half of that which meets
his eyes, in his daily inquiries into passing events, is most apt to
throw away quite a moiety of even that much credulity, on facts that
either never had an existence at all, or, which have been so mutilated
in the relation, that their eye-witnesses would be the last to recognize
them.
The customary silence succeeded the arrival of the visitors; then
Eaglesflight struck fire with a flint, touched the tobacco with the
flame, and puffed at a very curiously carved pipe, made of some soft
stone of the interior, until he had lighted it beyond any risk of its
soon becoming extinguished. This done, he rose, advanced with profound
reverence in his air, and presented it to Susquesus, who took it and
smoked for a few seconds, after which he returned it to him from whom it
had been received. This was a signal for other pipes to be lighted, and
one was offered to my uncle and myself, each of us making a puff or two;
and even John and the other male domestics were not neglected.
Prairiefire himself paid the compliment to Jaaf. The negro had noted
what was passing, and was much disgusted with the niggardliness which
required the pipe to be so soon returned. This he did not care to
conceal, as was obvious by the crusty observation he made when the pipe
was offered to him. Cider and tobacco had from time immemorial been the
two great blessings of this black's existence, and he felt at seeing one
standing to receive his pipe, after a puff or two, much as he might have
felt had one pulled the mug from his mouth, after the second or third
swallow.
"No need wait here"--grumbled old Jaaf--"when I done, gib you de pipe,
ag'in; nebber fear. Masser Corny, or Masser Malborne, or Masser
Hugh--dear me, I nebber knows which be libbin' and which be dead, I get
so ole, nowaday! But nebber mind if he be ole; can smoke yet, and don't
lub Injin fashion of gibbin' t'ings; and dat is gib him and den take
away ag'in. Nigger is nigger, and Injin is Injin; and nigger best. Lord!
how many years I _do_ see--I do see--most get tire of libbin' so long.
Don't wait, Injin; when I done, you get pipe again, I say. Best not make
ole Jaaf _too_ mad, or he dreadful!"
Although it is probable that Prairiefire did not understand one-half of
the negro's words, he comprehended his wish to finish the tobacco,
before he relinquished the pipe. This was against all rule, and a
species of slight on Indian usages, but the red-man overlooked all, with
a courtesy of one trained in high society, and walked away as composedly
as if everything were right. In these particulars the high-breeding of
an Indian is always made apparent. No one ever sees in his deportment, a
shrug or a half-concealed smile, or a look of intelligence; a wink or a
nod, or any other of that class of signs, or communications, which it is
usually deemed underbred to resort to in company. In all things, he is
dignified and quiet, whether it be the effect of coldness, or the result
of character.
The smoking now became general, but only as a ceremony; no one but Jaaf
setting to with regularity to finish his pipe. As for the black, his
opinion of the superiority of his own race over that of the red-man, was
as fixed as his consciousness of his inferiority to the white, and he
would have thought the circumstance that the present mode of using
tobacco was an Indian custom, a sufficient reason why he himself should
not adopt it. The smoking did not last long, but was succeeded by a
silent pause. Then Prairiefire arose and spoke.
"Father," he commenced, "we are about to quit you. Our squaws and
pappooses, on the prairies, wish to see us; it is time for us to go.
They are looking toward the great salt lake for us; we are looking
toward the great fresh-water lakes for them. There the sun sets--here it
rises; the distance is great, and many strange tribes of pale-faces live
along the path. Our journey has been one of peace. We have not hunted;
we have taken no scalps; but we have seen our great father, uncle Sam,
and we have seen our great father Susquesus; we shall travel toward the
setting sun satisfied. Father, our traditions are true; they never lie.
A lying tradition is worse than a lying Indian. What a lying Indian
says, deceives his friends, his wife, his children; what a lying
tradition says, deceives a tribe. Our traditions are true; they speak of
the Upright Onondago. All the tribes on the prairies have heard this
tradition, and are very glad. It is good to hear of justice; it is bad
to hear of injustice. Without justice an Indian is no better than a
wolf. No; there is not a tongue spoken on the prairies which does not
tell of that pleasant tradition. We could not pass the wigwam of our
father without turning aside to look at him. Our squaws and pappooses
wish to see us, but they would have told us to come back, and turn aside
to look upon our father, had we forgotten to do so. Why has my father
seen so many winters? It is the will of the Manitou. The Great Spirit
wants to keep him here a little longer. He is like stones piled together
to tell the hunters where the pleasant path is to be found. All the
red-men who see him think of what is right. No; the Great Spirit cannot
yet spare my father from the earth, lest red-men forget what is right.
He is stones piled together."
Here Prairiefire ceased, sitting down amid a low murmur of applause. He
had expressed the common feeling, and met with the success usual to such
efforts. Susquesus had heard and understood all that was said, and I
could perceive that he felt it, though he betrayed less emotion on this
occasion than he had done on the occasion of the previous interview.
Then, the novelty of the scene, no doubt, contributed to influence his
feelings. A pause followed this opening speech, and we were anxiously
waiting for the renowned orator Eaglesflight, to rise, when a singular
and somewhat ludicrous interruption of the solemn dignity of the scene
occurred. In the place of Eaglesflight whom Manytongues had given us
reason to expect would now come forth with energy and power, a much
younger warrior arose and spoke, commanding the attention of his
listeners in a way to show that he possessed their respect. We were told
that the young warrior's name, rendered into English, was Deersfoot, an
appellation obtained on account of his speed, and which we were assured
he well merited. Much to our surprise, however, he addressed himself to
Jaaf, Indian courtesy requiring that something should be said to the
constant friend and tried associate of the Trackless. The reader may be
certain we were all much amused at this bit of homage, though every one
of us felt some little concern on the subject of the answer it might
elicit. Deersfoot delivered himself, substantially, as follows:--
"The Great Spirit sees all things; he makes all things. In his eyes,
color is nothing. Although he made children that he loved of a red
color, he made children that he loved with pale faces, too. He did not
stop there. No; he said, 'I wish to see warriors and men with faces
darker than the skin of the bear. I will have warriors who shall
frighten their enemies by their countenances.' He made black men. My
father is black; his skin is neither red, like the skin of Susquesus,
nor white, like the skin of the young chief of Ravensnest. It is now
gray, with having had the sun shine on it so many summers; but it was
once the color of the crow. Then it must have been pleasant to look at.
My black father is very old. They tell me he is even older than the
Upright Onondago. The Manitou must be well pleased with him, not to have
called him away sooner. He has left him in his wigwam, that all the
black men may see whom their Great Spirit loves. This is the tradition
told to us by our fathers. The pale men come from the rising sun, and
were born before the heat burned their skins. The black men came from
under the sun at noon-day, and their faces were darkened by looking up
above their heads to admire the warmth that ripened their fruits. The
red men were born under the setting sun, and their faces were colored by
the hues of the evening skies. The red man was born here; the pale man
was born across the salt lake; the black man came from a country of his
own, where the sun is always above his head. What of that? We are
brothers. The Thicklips (this was the name by which the strangers
designated Jaaf, as we afterward learned) is the friend of Susquesus.
They have lived in the same wigwam, now, so many winters, that their
venison and bear's-meat have the same taste. They love one another.
Whomsoever Susquesus loves and honors, all just Indians love and honor.
I have no more to say."
It is very certain that Jaaf would not have understood a syllable that
was uttered in this address, had not Manytongues first given him to
understand that Deersfoot was talking to him in particular, and then
translated the speaker's language, word for word, and with great
deliberation, as each sentence was finished. Even this care might not
have sufficed to make the negro sensible of what was going on, had not
Patt gone to him, and told him, in a manner and voice to which he was
accustomed, to attend to what was said, and to endeavor, as soon as
Deersfoot sat down, to say something in reply. Jaaf was so accustomed to
my sister, and was so deeply impressed with the necessity of obeying
her, as one of his many "y'ung missuses"--_which_ he scarcely knew
himself--that she succeeded in perfectly arousing him; and he astonished
us all with the intelligence of his very characteristic answer, which he
did not fail to deliver exactly as he had been directed to do.
Previously to beginning to speak, the negro champed his toothless gums
together, like a vexed swine; but "y'ung missus" had told him he _must_
answer, and answer he _did_. It is probable, also, that the old fellow
had some sort of recollection of such scenes, having been present, in
his younger days, at various councils held by the different tribes of
New York; among whom my grandfather, General Mordaunt Littlepage, had
more than once been a commissioner.
"Well," Jaaf began, in a short, snappish manner, "s'pose nigger _must_
say somet'in'. No berry great talker, 'cause I no Injin. Nigger had too
much work to do, to talk all 'e time. What you say 'bout where nigger
come from, isn't true. He come from Africa, as I hear 'em say, 'long
time ago. Ahs, me! how ole I do get! Sometimes I t'ink poor ole black
man be nebber to lie down and rest himself. It _do_ seem dat ebberybody
take his rest but old Sus and me. I berry strong, yet; and git stronger
and stronger, dough won'erful tired; but Sus, he git weaker and weaker
ebbery day. Can't last long, now, poor Sus! Ebbery body _must_ die some
time. Ole, ole, ole masser and missus, fust dey die. Den Masser Corny
go; putty well adwanced, too. Den come Masser Mordaunt's turn, and
Masser Malbone, and now dere anudder Masser Hugh. Well, dey putty much
all de same to me. I lubs 'em all and all on 'em lubs me. Den Miss Duss
count for somet'in', but she be libbin', yet. Most time she die, too,
but don't seem to go. Ahs, me! how ole I _do_ git! Ha! dere come dem
debbils of Injins, ag'in, and dis time we _must_ clean 'em out! Get your
rifle, Sus; get your rifle, boy, and mind dat ole Jaaf be at your
elbow."
Sure enough, there the Injins _did_ come; but I must reserve an account
of what followed for the commencement of the next chapter.