compliments, 'the Rattle-snake' came up to me and spoke in his own
language, saying, I have no doubt, several things which I should have
very much liked to understand. I suppose, however, that my countenance
showed him that he might as well have been talking to one of the trees,
for he presently turned to Moon-eye and beckoned her to approach, which
she accordingly did. Then he spoke to her in the same tongue, and she
interpreted what he said to me in her pretty broken English.
"'Chief say he tank pale-face broder for kill bad Indian. Pawnee him
friend,--white skin, Pawnee heart.'
"When I understood what the girl said, I replied at once that I was
very much obliged for his good opinion, but that as a matter of fact my
killing the bad Indians was not on account of any particular friendship
for his tribe, but because if I had not done so, the beggars would
certainly have killed _me_. 'The Rattle-snake' listened to this
explanation with great attention, and answered through the interpreter
that this was doubtless very true, inasmuch as these thieving Indians
would kill any fellow they found in the woods if it suited their
purpose; but that, nevertheless, a warrior who had assisted in
disposing of so many Sioux _must_ be a friend to the Pawnees, even if
he had never heard of them before.
"There was no arguing against such a reason as this, and I therefore at
once professed myself as a decided friend to the Pawnees, then and for
ever. To tell the truth, I was not disinclined to become so, since
Moon-eye had made such a deep impression upon me, that I felt a natural
liking towards her people. The thought had several times crossed my
mind during the last few days, whether I should not be much happier if
I gave up the roving life which I had followed so long, and settled
down comfortably in some quiet nook of the world, exchanging continual
restlessness for domestic tranquillity. Coupled with this thought came
another, namely, that I had become so unused to the polished manners of
civilized people, that an Indian home and an Indian bride might
possibly bring me more happiness than a return to my native land. So I
resolved to accept the offer of the Pawnees to return with them to
their own village, and bethought me at the same time that if I could
but win the heart of the lovely Moon-eye, I might settle down among her
people and become a regular Pawnee.
"Perhaps, my dear children, this might have been the case, and your
dear uncle might now have been walking about with his head shaved for
the most part, with an eagle's feather behind his ear, moccasins on his
feet, and in every respect a perfect Indian. One little circumstance
alone prevented me, and this was the painful fact that Moon-eye herself
took a different view of the case. I soon discovered that her young
affections had long been fixed upon a young chief of her tribe, who
enjoyed the appellation of 'the Rising Sun,' and as he seemed to return
the young lady's feelings, I thought I should only get into hot water
if I acted upon my first idea. So I forthwith made up my mind that it
would be a shocking thing for a white man of my education and position
to marry an ignorant Indian girl, and that it was evidently my duty to
think no more of it.
"I went to the Pawnee's village with them and stayed for a few weeks
very happily. You will perhaps be glad to hear that Pig-face and his
young men were not tortured after all. They were exchanged for
prisoners whom the Sioux had taken in their last raid, and I never
heard any more about them. Moon-eye was very gracious to me whilst I
was with her people, but it annoyed me to see that fellow 'Rising Sun'
always following her about, and I therefore shortened my stay.
"Jumbo and I took our departure early one morning, and were accompanied
by a number of the tribe for some distance on our way. We had many more
curious adventures together in the woods, my trusty companion and I,
and very lucky we were to have come so well out of them all. But on
looking back to my forest and wilderness life, I never remember to have
had a more stirring adventure than that of which I have just told you.
It sometimes comes back to me now, as I lie awake at nights: I fancy I
see those ten vagabonds tramping after me through the woods,--then
comes the horrid scene with the snake--the battle--the slaughter--the
waking--the flight with Moon-eye--the capture--the rescue,--all comes
flitting like a vision before my eyes, and I drop to sleep at last,
wondering how I have been preserved through so much trouble and so many
dangers, and thinking how lucky it is for you young ones to have a
respectable old uncle with so many experiences to relate, and such
interesting and curious tales with which to instruct and amuse your
young minds."
ZAC'S BRIDE.
King Fridolin sat gloomily in the ancient halls of his race. A mighty
race, forsooth, had they been for many a long year, and a mighty king
was Fridolin. I shall not tell you the precise situation of his
kingdom, for it is only by avoiding particular descriptions that we
historians escape a variety of impertinent and troublesome questions.
Suffice it to say that the monarch ruled over a territory of goodly
size, containing mountains, forests, houses, vineyards, cornfields, and
everything else which the neighbourhood of a mighty river could supply.
For a river, mighty, indeed, in size and reputation, flowed through his
kingdom, and was the principal glory of his land. The monarch had
succeeded to the throne at an early age, and had reigned for long years
over his people. They, poor creatures, had apparently only been created
in order to minister to his comfort. Ground down by oppressive
taxation, their spirits broken, their bodies subject to the will of
their despotic master, their homes held only at his pleasure, and
scarcely daring to call their very thoughts their own, they dragged on
such a miserable existence as was permitted to them, without a hope or
an idea that their condition could ever be improved by any effort of
their own. But with him, their imperious lord, the case was surely
different. He, one would have imagined, had everything to make him
happy. Lands, vassals, money--what would he more? And yet King Fridolin
sat gloomily in his ancient halls. His crown was upon his
head--surmounted by his favourite crest, representing the figure of an
eagle clapping its wings; his left hand rested upon the hilt of the
mighty sword which he and his fathers before him had so often wielded
in battle, whilst in his right hand he held a watering-pot, by means of
which he tormented his Lord Chamberlain, who, having offended him, and
being troubled with a bad cold, had been ordered to stand below the
balcony upon which his majesty sat, whilst the royal hand let iced
water fall upon his bald head. But even as he watered, King Fridolin
pondered, and melancholy were his thoughts the while. Broad, indeed,
were his lands, full were his coffers, obedient his vassals, but he
lacked that sunshine of the heart, without which life is dull and heavy
at the best. Moreover, he had no one who dared to contradict him, no
one who ventured to suggest to him any alteration in his way of living,
no new occupation which could relieve him from the oppressive dulness
under which he suffered. So there he sat, watering and thinking and
wishing for he knew not what--_anything_ to relieve the dreary monotony
of his existence. Suddenly he started up.
"I've hit it!" he cried--which, if he referred to the Lord
Chamberlain's head, he certainly had, for, as he spoke, the
watering-pot fell directly upon the bald pate of that unlucky
functionary.
"I've hit it!" again cried the king--and the Chamberlain was not
prepared to dispute the statement. In fact, the king gave him no time
to do so, for the next moment, apparently forgetting his cause of
displeasure against the high official in question, he eagerly called
him up to the balcony, and bade him listen to the development of a new
idea which had suddenly entered his royal brain.
"Pompous," he cried (for such was the name of the Lord Chamberlain),
"Pompous, I've thought of something!"
"Happy the thing which has had the honour of occupying your majesty's
mind," returned the ancient courtier, deeming it right to preserve
honey upon his tongue, although bitter gall was in his heart, in
consequence of the treatment to which he had just been exposed.
"Don't be an ass, Pompous!" replied the king hastily. "I tell you I've
thought of something. Guess what it is."
The Lord Chamberlain drew himself up to his full height, bowed low,
coughed, hemmed, and, after repeating this process several times,
meekly answered that he could not tell what his gracious majesty might
have been pleased to think of.
"Tell? Why, of course not, you old noodle," said the King, whose manner
of addressing his attendants was occasionally barely polite. "Who
expected you to tell? I told you to _guess_, but since you are too
stupid to do so, I may as well tell you what it is. We'll have a
pig-race!"
"A _what_, your majesty?" faltered out the Lord Chamberlain.
"A pig-race, you old idiot!" roared the king into his ear. "P I G, pig,
R A C E, race--_pig-race_. Do you hear now?"
And the old man was obliged to own that he did; but although he heard,
he hardly understood what the king could really mean. Old Pompous,
however, was a thorough courtier, and having had the misfortune to
offend his royal master _once_ that morning, was far too good a
judge to do so again, if he could by any possibility avoid it. He
therefore put on a smiling face, declared that the idea was excellent,
and pretended to enjoy it vastly, all the time wondering what could
have caused the king to think of such a ridiculous project, and by what
means it could ever be carried out. Whether any difficulty had
suggested itself to the mind of the king, or what had put the project
into his head at all, are questions which it is both useless and
unnecessary to ask. It is sufficient to know that there it was, and
when the despotic king of a country has a practical idea, something
generally happens in consequence, and it is a fortunate thing for his
people if it is nothing worse than a pig-race. Now it happened that the
kingdom of Fridolin was famous for its breed of pigs. They grew to a
very large size, and were much thought of by the people of that and
neighbouring countries, who bred, bought, sold, and ate them to a great
extent. A pig-race, however, was not a common event, nor, indeed, had
one ever been heard of in the memory of the oldest inhabitant. A pig
had certainly been more than once turned out, on festive occasions,
with his tail soaped, and a prize given to the rustic who should
succeed in securing the animal by holding on to that appendage; but
this was not what the king meant. He announced his intention of giving
a prize, to be run for by pigs, each pig to be ridden by a boy under
fourteen years of age, and fixed that day month for the event. Pompous
received the order with obsequious readiness, and was too wise to raise
any objection to the project, or express any doubt as to the
possibility of carrying it out. Next morning, accordingly, it was made
known to the world, and the whole kingdom was agitated from one end to
the other. It was not a great racing country; but, if it had been, a
race between pigs, and pigs, too, ridden by boys, would have been a
novelty, and the publication of the king's intentions caused a great
deal of surprise and excitement. The race was to take place upon a
common in the immediate neighbourhood of the capital city of the
kingdom, and the course, which was to be half a mile long, was settled
and marked out long before the day arrived on which the event was to
come off. A great number of competitors had entered for the race, and
it was calculated that at least twenty would start. Some complaints
there had been of the shortness of time allowed for training either
boys or pigs; but that was not a country in which many complaints were
made against anything the king did, as those who made them generally
had their heads cut off with a promptitude which had a signal effect in
preventing others from following their example. So there was very
little said against the arrangements which had been made, and people
only talked of the curious scene they expected to witness, and
speculated upon the chance of success possessed by the pigs which came
from their several neighbourhoods. As the day approached, the
excitement increased, and every available lodging was occupied in
anticipation of the great event. It is right to state, perhaps, that
the intensity of the interest caused by the coming race, was not only
due to the love of sport which existed in that country. King Fridolin
had perhaps no other intention than that of providing amusement for
himself, when he first set on foot the race which now attracted so much
of public attention, although he had, as a truly gracious monarch, no
objection to his subjects sharing that amusement, so long as his own
would not be lessened thereby. But when he came to consider the nature
of the prize which he should offer, another thought struck him, upon
which he had immediately acted.
He had read and heard of many kings who, upon suitable occasions, when
they wanted their country to be delivered from some misfortune, or if
they desired to obtain the performance of some mighty deed of valour,
or some great feat of agility, had endeavoured to get what they wanted
by offering the hand of their daughter as the prize for which all
efforts should be made.
This kind of proceeding had, of course, its disadvantages, as, in a
country where only one wife was permitted, the prize would be one which
shut out at once from competition all married men, and thus greatly
limited the possible number of competitors. But Fridolin was in a
peculiar position in this respect.
In the first place, as only boys of tender age were to ride, there was
very little probability that any of them would be married, and, in the
next place, he had a daughter whom he thought very unlikely to be
married, unless by some clever contrivance such as that which he had
now planned. Belinda was the youngest of three princesses who owned
Fridolin for their father, and she was at this time just ten years of
age. But, unhappily, whilst her two sisters, the Princesses Amabilia
and Concaterina were lovely and well shaped, Belinda had no such
recommendations. Her mother, having had the misfortune to offend a
powerful and wicked witch, had expired, through her machinations,
shortly after the birth of her third daughter. One would have supposed
that the vengeance of a witch would have been satisfied by the death of
its object; but the witch Nuisancenika was not so easily appeased. She
visited the dying queen, made use of language which, always
objectionable in itself, was doubly improper, when used at such a
moment, and solemnly doomed the baby child to ugliness and deformity.
This pretty well finished the poor mother of itself, and she actually
died outright, when, within ten minutes of the cruel doom having been
pronounced, a palpable hump appeared upon the infant's back, and her
features assumed an expression of ugliness seldom seen in the females
of that country. So the child had grown up, deformed and ugly, though
with a sweetness of disposition which atoned for both defects in the
eyes of those who knew her well. This scarcely applied to Fridolin, who
cared little for his children, although he occasionally had the pretty
ones down to dessert to show off to his friends, whilst poor Belinda
was left alone and neglected in the nursery.
Under these painful circumstances it was singular that Belinda should
not have grown up as deformed in mind as body, and this might very
possibly have been the case but for the unwearied love and devotion of
her foster-mother. This estimable person was the wife of one of the
king's shepherds, and no mother could have watched over her own child
more constantly or more tenderly than she tended Belinda. Being
moreover of a remarkably even temper, and blessed with a kindly
disposition withal, the good woman doubtless did much towards the
development of that remarkable sweetness of character, which the
princess had inherited from her mother. Be this how it may, she
certainly grew up in such a manner as to cause the remark to be
frequently made that her mind evinced a marked and singular contrast to
her body, and she was generally beloved in the royal household. This,
then, was the daughter whose destiny King Fridolin had resolved to
determine by the chances of a pig-race, and the fact was duly notified
to those concerned, and advertised in the newspapers throughout the
whole length and breadth of the country.
Although, as I have said, the circumstances of that country prevented
people from commenting too freely upon any proceeding of the king's,
yet nothing could prevent this matter being talked about in private
circles, and wherever the conversation could be safely carried on great
surprise was expressed at the course which Fridolin had thought fit to
take. It was argued with some reason that the king, had he so chosen,
might have ordered any of his subjects to marry Belinda, should no
suitable admirer have appeared from among any of the neighbouring
princes, and that, if he deemed it necessary that the princess should
be married at all, he might in this manner have at least secured for
her a husband more eligible than might now fall to her lot. Besides,
the class of people who would be likely to contend for the prize in a
pig-race would be of a varied character. It was undoubtedly true that
many of the highest nobility of the land were breeders of pigs, but it
was equally certain that there were a far greater number of small
farmers and even labourers who could also claim to be included in the
same category.
Moreover, it was more than probable that the more aristocratic and
refined was a pig-breeder, the less likely would it be that one of his
own sons would ride in the race, and it was to the rider and not to the
owner of the animal that the prize was to be given. So far, indeed, the
king seemed to have been kind and considerate, for this plan would
secure to his little daughter a husband better suited to her tender age
than if she had been bestowed upon some pig-owner of advanced years, to
whom she would have made a most unsuitable wife. But the king's
intention was plainly declared; whoever won the pig-race would win
Belinda too, and although a few years might be permitted to pass, so
that her education might be completed and the age of the bridegroom be
allowed to ripen, yet at the end of that time, which the king would fix
according to circumstances, the nuptials would certainly be celebrated.
As I have already said, everyone in the kingdom knew the conditions
before the day arrived, and many and various were the speculations as
to the result.
At last the sun shone upon the eventful morning of the day which was to
decide the issue of the race and the fate of Belinda. From every
quarter people came hurrying into the town; carts, carriages and
vehicles of every description and size thronged the roads, which were
also crowded with foot-passengers, all dressed in holiday garments, and
pushing forward in one direction, namely, to the race-course. There the
crowd was enormous, and the grand-stand was filled with a distinguished
company, as well as by many of those individuals who are only
distinguished by their extraordinary capacity for getting money out of
other people's pockets.
In a private stand which was appropriated to royalty, sat Fridolin and
his daughters, surrounded by the nobles of the court. The king was in
the highest spirits, chaffing old Pompous, flirting with the maids of
honour, and teasing his two eldest daughters by telling them that if
the affair went off to his satisfaction, he should probably have
another on _their_ account before long. The two princesses tossed
their heads haughtily at this, although they stood too much in awe of
their royal parent to make any open protest. They were both dressed in
the extreme of the fashion, and displayed in their features the beauty
for which their race had always been celebrated. At a little distance
sat poor Belinda, who had been ordered by her father to be present, but
who did not seem much to enjoy it, although she endeavoured to preserve
a cheerful demeanour. The child was simply dressed in white muslin,
and her dress was in no way calculated to remove the disagreeable
impression produced by her ugliness and bodily defect. As her sisters
were known to be the king's favourites, it was naturally around them
that the courtiers clustered, and Belinda sat neglected, and almost
alone, though some of the more kindly disposed and tender-hearted of
the court ladies paid her a little attention.
There was the usual shouting and betting, card-playing and band-playing,
pick-pocketing and cheating, wrangling and chaffing, which accompany a
race-course, I am told, even down to the present day; and there was a
dog, which issued no one knew where from, and ran down the very centre
of the course, howled at by the crowd and vainly chased by the
policemen, just before the race began. Carriages of all sorts were
drawn up by the side of the course, several rows deep, and the
occupants of many of them appeared to have come there principally for
the purpose of eating and drinking, for there was a vast and continuous
popping of corks, carving of chickens and mixing of salads, apparently
much enjoyed by those who were no more immediately concerned in the
consumption of the same, and as greatly envied by many hungry
lookers-on, who passed and repassed the carriages with eager and
longing eyes.
At last the bell for saddling rung, and after a while the course was
cleared, and the animals which had been entered for the race came out
of the adjoining paddock for their preliminary gallop. There were
eighteen who actually started, of whom nine were black pigs and nine
sandy coloured. The symmetry of their forms was generally admired, and
as they cocked their little ears, twitched their tails, and grunted
loudly in anticipation of the struggle, great was the interest and
intense the excitement of the spectators. The little jockeys, clad in
their jackets of different colours, sat gallantly on their steeds, and
although the galloping was of a somewhat curious and uncertain
character, no accident occurred, and the eighteen competitors were duly
marshalled at the starting post. Then began the difficulty. It seemed
as if no power on earth could induce the animals to range themselves as
required or to keep any order at all. They grunted, squealed, turned
round the wrong way, and exhibited altogether such restlessness and
queer temper, that a fair start really seemed to be an impossibility.
This went on for nearly half-an-hour, when suddenly the starter
effected his purpose--the flag fell--and a hushed whisper of "They're
off!" ran through the crowd from one end to another. The excitement was
tremendous. Luncheons were abandoned--champagne glasses put down when
in the very act of being lifted to thirsty lips--opera-glasses and
telescopes were everywhere in requisition, and no one in all that vast
assembly had for the moment eyes or ears for anything but the pig-race.
Those who were in the secret knew that seven of the animals which were
running belonged to members of the aristocracy, whilst no less than
eleven were owned by breeders and jobbers of an inferior class. Among
these knowing ones there was great speculation as to the class from
which the winner would come, also as to the colour, black or sandy,
which would be successful. There was no limit as to the sex of the
animals, and the only stipulation was that each competitor should be
two years old, it being considered in that country injurious to the
constitution of pigs that they should be allowed to run in races before
that age.