Let us see what can be made out of a walk. It began with a bad number,
though one that is generally assumed to be lucky. But, on the present
occasion, no one felt himself the third; and Walter, and Edith, and
Lord H----, conversed as freely as if only two had been present. First
came a discussion between Edith and her brother as to what path they
should take; and then they referred it to their companion, and he,
with a smile, reminded them that he knew none but that by which he had
come thither; and so Edith had her own way, and led towards the west.
By dint of labour and taste, aided, in some degree, by accident, not
less than fifty acres of ground had been cleared around the house of
Mr. Prevost--not partially cleared, with large black stumps of trees
sticking up in the fields, and assuming every sort of strange form,
all hideous; but perfectly and entirely, leaving the ground (some part
of which had, indeed, been free of forest when Mr. Prevost first
settled there) smooth and trim as that of the fair farms of England.
The fences, too, were all in good order, and the buildings neat and
picturesque.
Beyond the cultivated ground, as you descended the gentle hill, lay
the deep forest, at the distance of about three hundred yards; and at
its edge Edith paused, and made her companion turn to see how
beautiful the cottage looked upon its eminence, shaded by gorgeous
maple-trees, in their gold and crimson garb of autumn, with a tall
rock or two, grey and mossy, rising up amidst them.
Lord H---- gazed at the house, and saw that it was picturesque and
beautiful--very different, indeed, from any other dwelling he had
beheld on the western side of the Atlantic; but his eyes expressed an
absent thoughtfulness, and Edith thought he did not admire it half
enough.
Close by the spot where she had stopped appeared the entrance of a
broad road, cut, probably, by the Dutch settlers many years before. It
could not be called good, for it was furrowed and indented with many a
rut and hollow, and roughened by obtrusive stones and rock; but there
were no stumps of trees upon it, no fallen trunks lying across, which,
for a forest road in America, at that time, was rare perfection. For
about a quarter of a mile it was bordered on each side by tangled
thicket, with gigantic pine-trees rising out of an impenetrable mass
of underwood, in which berries of many a hue supplied the place of
flowers. But flowers seem hardly wanting to an American autumn; for
almost every leaf becomes a flower, and the whole forest glows with
all the hues of yellow, red, and green, from the soft primrose-colour
of the fading white-wood and sycamore, through every tint of orange,
scarlet, and crimson on the maple, and of yellow and green on the
larch, the pine, and the hemlock.
"How strange are man's prejudices and prepossessions!" ejaculated Lord
H----, as they paused to gaze at a spot where a large extent of
woodland lay open to the eye below them. "We are incredulous of
everything we have not seen, or to the conception of which we have not
been led by very near approaches. Had any one shown me, before I
reached these shores, a picture of an autumn scene in America, though
it had been perfect as a portrait, hue for hue, or even inferior in
its striking colouring to the reality, I should have laughed at it as
a most extravagant exaggeration. Did not the first autumn you passed
here make you think yourself in fairy-land?"
"No; I was prepared for it," replied Edith; "my father had described
the autumn scenery to me often before we came."
"Then was he ever in America before he came to settle?" asked her
companion.
"Yes, once," answered Edith. She spoke in a very grave tone, and then
ceased suddenly.
But her brother took the subject up with a boy's frankness,
saying--"Did you never hear that my grandfather and my father's sister
both died in Virginia? He was in command there, and my father came
over just before my birth."
"It is a long story, and a sad one, my lord," interposed Edith, with a
sigh; "but look now as we mount the hill, how the scene changes. Every
step upon the hill-side gives us a different sort of tree, and the
brush disappears from amidst the trunks. This grove is my favourite
evening seat, where I can read and think under the broad shady boughs,
with nothing but beautiful sights around me."
They had reached a spot where, upon the summit of an eminence, numbers
of large oaks crested the forest. Wide apart, and taller than the
English oak, though not so large in stem, the trees suffered the eye
to wander over the grassy ground, somewhat broken by rock, which
sloped down between hundreds of large bolls to the tops of the lower
forest trees, and thence to a scene of almost matchless beauty beyond.
Still slanting downwards with a gentle sweep, the woodlands were seen
approaching the banks of a small lake, about two miles distant, while,
beyond the sheet of water, which lay glittering like gold in the clear
morning sunshine, rose up high purple hills, with the shadows of grand
clouds floating over them. Around the lake, on every side, were rocky
promontories and slanting points of lower land jutting out into the
water; and, where they stood above, they could see all the fair
features of the scene itself, and the images of the clouds and sky
redoubled by the golden mirror. To give another charm to the spot, and
make ear and eye combine in enjoyment, the voices of distant waters
came upon the breeze, not with a roar exactly, but with rather more
than a murmur, showing that some large river was pouring over a steep
not far away.
"Hark!" ejaculated Lord H----. "Is there a waterfall near?"
"Too far to go to it to-day," answered Edith. "We must economize our
scenes, lest we should exhaust them all before you go, and you should
think more than ever that our country wants variety."
"I cannot think so with that prospect before my eyes," replied the
young nobleman. "Look how it has changed already! The mountain is all
in shade, and so is the lake; but those low, wavy, wood-covered hills,
which lie between the two, are starting out in the prominence of
sunshine. A truly beautiful scene is full of variety in itself. Every
day changes its aspect, every hour, every season. The light of
morning, and evening, and mid-day, alters it entirely; and the spring
and the summer, the autumn and the winter, robe it in different hues.
I have often thought that a fair landscape is like a fine mind, in
which every varying event of life brings forth new beauties."
"Alas, that the mind is not always like the landscape!" exclaimed
Edith. "God willed it so, I doubt not, for there is harmony in all His
works; but man's will and God's will are not always one."
"Perhaps, after all," said her companion, thoughtfully, "the best way
to keep them in harmony is for man, as much as may be, to recur to
Nature, which is but an expression of God's will."
"Oh yes!" cried Walter Prevost, eagerly; "I am sure the more we give
ourselves up to the factitious and insincere contrivances of what we
call society, the more we alienate ourselves from truth and God."
The young nobleman gazed at him with a smile almost melancholy.
"Very young," he thought, "to come to such sad conclusions. But do you
not, my friend Walter," added he aloud, "think there might be such a
thing as extracting from society all that is good and fine in it, and
leaving the chaff and dross for others? The simile of the bee and the
poisonous flower holds good with man. Let us take what is sweet and
beneficial in all we find growing in the world's garden, and reject
all that is worthless, poisonous, and foul. But truly this is an
enchanting scene. It wants, methinks, only the figure of an Indian
in the foreground. And there comes one, I fancy, to fill up the
picture.--Stay, stay, we shall want no rifles. It is but a woman
coming through the trees."
"It is Otaitsa--it is the Blossom!" cried Edith and Walter in a
breath, as they looked forward to a spot where, across the yellow
sunshine as it streamed through the trees, a female figure, clad in
the gaily-embroidered and brightly-coloured _gakaah_ or petticoat of
the Indian women, was seen advancing with a rapid yet somewhat
doubtful step.
Without pause or hesitation, Edith sprang forward to meet the new
comer, and, in a moment after, the beautiful arms of the Indian girl
who had sat with Walter in the morning were round the fair form of his
sister, and her lips pressed on hers. There was a warmth and eagerness
in their meeting, unusual on the part of the red race; but, while the
young Oneida almost lay upon the bosom of her white friend, her
beautiful dark eyes were turned towards her lover, as, with a mixture
of the bashful feelings of youth and the consciousness of having
something to conceal, Walter, with a glowing cheek, lingered a step or
two behind his sister.
"Art thou coming to our lodge, dear Blossom?" asked Edith, and then
added, "Where is thy father?"
"We both come," answered the girl, in fluent English, with no more of
the Indian accent than served to give a peculiar softness to her
tones. "I wait the Black Eagle here since dawn of day. He has gone
towards the morning, with our father the White Heron; for we heard of
Hurons by the side of Corlear, and some thought the hatchet would be
unburied; so he journeyed to hear more from our friends by the
Horicon, and bade me stay and tell you and our brother Walter to
forbear that road if I saw you turn your eyes towards the east wind.
He and the White Heron will be by your father's council-fire with the
first star."
A good deal of this speech was unintelligible to Lord H----, who had
now approached, and on whom Blossom's eyes were turned with a sort of
timid and inquiring look. But Walter hastened to interpret, saying--
"She means that her father and the missionary, Mr. Gore, have heard
that there are hostile Indians on the shores of Lake Champlain, and
have gone down towards Lake George to inquire; for Black Eagle--that
is her father--is much our friend, and he always fancies that my
father has chosen a dangerous situation here just at the verge of the
territory of the Five Nations, or their Long House, as they call it."
"Well, come to the lodge with us, dear Blossom," said Edith, while her
brother was giving this explanation; "thou knowest my father loves
thee well, and will be glad to have the Blossom with us. Here, too, is
an English chief, dwelling with us, who knows not what sweet blossoms
grow on Indian trees."
But the girl shook her head, saying--
"Nay, I must do the father's will. It was with much praying that he
let me come hither with him; and he bade me stay here from the white
rock to the stream. So I must obey."
"But it may be dangerous," replied Edith, "if there be Hurons so near;
and it is sadly solitary, dear sister."
"Then stay with me for a while," said the girl, who could not affect
to deny that her lonely watch was somewhat gloomy.
"I will stay with her, and protect her," cried Walter eagerly; "for,
dearest Blossom, should there be danger, my sister must fly to the
lodge."
"Yes, stay with her, Walter. Oh, yes, stay with her," ejaculated the
unconscious Edith. And so it was settled, for Otaitsa made no
opposition, though, with a cheek in which something glowed warmly
through the brown, and with a lip that curled gently with a meaning
smile, she said--
"Perhaps my brother Walter would be elsewhere? He may find a long
watch wearisome on the hill and in the wood."
Well was it that others were present, or the lips that spoke would
have paid for their insincerity. But perhaps the Blossom would not
have so spoken had they been alone; for woman feels a fear of
playfulness, and knows that it needs a safeguard; while deep passion
and pure tenderness seem to have a holy safeguard in themselves, and
often in their very weakness find strength.
"Let us stay awhile ourselves," said Lord H----, seating himself on
the grass, and gazing forth with a look of interest over the prospect:
"methinks this is a place where one may well dream away an hour,
without the busiest mind reproaching itself for inactivity."
There was no ceremony certainly in his manner, and yet no assumption.
Had there been older persons present, women nearer his own age,
perhaps the formal decorums of the time might have put upon him a more
ceremonious bearing: he might have asked their wishes--waited till
they were seated--bowed, and assisted them to a commodious spot. But
Edith was so young, that a feeling of her being almost a child was
unconsciously present in his mind--a very dangerous feeling, inasmuch
as it put him wholly off his guard; and, acting as plain nature
taught, he cast himself down there to enjoy an hour of pleasant
idleness, in a beautiful scene, with one too lovely, too deep-toned in
mind--ay, too mature in heart and in body--to be so treated with
impunity.
That hour passed by, and another came and went, while into his
thoughts and into his breast's inmost caves were stealing strange new
sensations. A dreamy charm was over him, a golden spell around him,
more powerful than Circe ever threw, or the Siren ever sung. Oh, the
Lotus!--he was eating the Lotus, that sweet fruit, the magic taste of
which could never be forgotten--which was destined thenceforth and for
ever to draw him back, with irresistible power, to the spot where it
grew.
Surely that nectareous fruit, which transformed the whole spirit into
desire for itself, was but an image of love, pure and bright, growing
wild upon the bank of the sacred river. And the first taste, too, gave
no warning of its power. Thus he was all unconscious of what was
coming over him, but yielded himself calmly to the enjoyment of the
moment, and imagined that in the next he could be free again in every
thought.
The reader may ask--"Was he thus early in love? Had the impassioned
haste of Italian love--the love of Romeo and Juliet--flown across the
wide Atlantic?"
No! I answer, no. But he was yielding himself to thoughts and
feelings, scenes, circumstances, and companionships, which were sure
to light it up in his heart--yielding without resistance. He was
tasting the Lotus-fruit; and its effects were inevitable.
For two hours the four companions sat there on the hill-side, beneath
the tall shady trees, with the wind breathing softly upon them--the
lake glittering before their eyes--the murmur of the waterfall sending
music through the air. But to the young Englishman these were but
accessories. The fair face of Edith was before his eyes, the melody of
her voice in his ear.
At length, however, they rose to go, promising to send one of the
slaves from the house with food for Walter and Otaitsa at the hour of
noon; and Lord H---- and his fair companion took their way back
towards the house.
The distance was not very far, but they were somewhat long upon the
way. They walked slowly back, and by a different path from that by
which they went; and often they stopped to admire some pleasant scene;
often Lord H---- had to assist his fair companion over some rock, and
her soft hand rested in his. He gathered flowers for her--the fringed
gentia and other late blossoms; they paused to examine them closely,
and comment on their loveliness. Once he made her sit down beside him
on a bank, and tell the names of all the different trees; and from
trees his conversation went on into strange, dreamy, indefinite talk
of human things and human hearts.
Thus noon was not far distant when they reached the house; and both
Edith and her companion were very thoughtful.