Through the wide-spread woods which lay between the extensive
territory occupied by the Mohawks and the beautiful land of the
Oneidas, early on the morning of the day some of the events of which
have been already recorded, a small troop of Indians glided along in
their usual stealthy manner. They were in their garments of peace.
Each was fully clothed according to the Indian mode; and the
many-coloured mat of ceremony hung from their shoulders, somewhat
encumbering them in their progress. They took the narrow trails; yet
it was not so easy for them to conceal themselves, if such was their
object, as it might have been in another dress, and at another time;
for, except when passing a still brilliant maple, or a rich brown oak,
the gaudy colouring of their clothing showed itself strongly against
the dark evergreens or the white snow.
The party had apparently travelled from night into day; for, as soon
as the morning dawned, the head man of the file stopped, and, without
changing his position, and thus avoiding the necessity of making fresh
prints in the snow, conversed over his shoulder with those behind him.
Their conversation was brief, and might be translated into modern
English thus:
"Shall we halt here, or go on farther? The day's eyes are open in the
east."
"Stay here till noon," said an elder man behind him. "The Oneidas
always go to their lodge in the middle of the day. They are children.
They require sleep when the sun is high."
Another voice repeated the same advice; and, springing one by
one from the trail into the thicket, they gathered together under a
wide-spreading hemlock, where the ground was free from snow, and
seated themselves in a circle beneath the branches. There they passed
their time nearly in silence. Some food was produced, and also some
rum--the fatal gift of the English; but very few words were uttered,
and the only sentences worth recording were--
"Art thou quite sure of the spot, brother?"
"Certain," answered the one who had been leading; "the intelligence
was brought by an Albany runner, a man of a true tongue."
From time to time, each of the different members of the group looked
up towards the sky; and at length one of them rose, saying,--
"It is noon; let us onward. We can go forward for an hour, and then
shall be near enough to reach the place, and return while the shadows
are on the earth."
"We were told to spread out and enter by several trails," said the
elder man of the party.
"It is not needful now," observed the one who seemed the leader; "when
it can all be done between sun and sun."
His words seemed conclusive; and they resumed the path again, walking
on stealthily in a single file as before. They had gone about three
miles more, when a wild, fearful yell, such as no European would
believe a human throat could utter, was heard near upon their right.
Another rose up on their left, the instant after, and then another in
their front. Each man stopped in breathless silence, as if suddenly
turned to stone; but each with the first impulse had laid his hand
upon his tomahawk. All listened for a repetition of the well-known
war-whoop, and each man asked himself what such a sound could mean in
a land where the Indians were all at peace amongst themselves, and
where no tidings had been received of a foreign foe; but no one
uttered a word, even in a whisper, to the man close to him.
Suddenly, a single figure appeared upon the trail before them,--tall,
powerful, commanding; one well known to all there present. It was that
of the Black Eagle, now feathered and painted for battle, with his
rifle in his hand, and his tomahawk ready.
"Are ye Mohawks?" he demanded, as he came nearer. "Are we brethren?"
"We are Mohawks and brethren," replied the leader of the party; "we
are but wandering through the forest, seeking to find something which
has been lost."
"What is it?" asked Black Eagle, somewhat sternly; "nothing is lost
that cannot be found. Snow may cover it for a time; but when the snow
melts, it will come to light."
"It is a young lad's coat," said the cunning Mohawk; "but why is Black
Eagle on the war path? Who has unburied the hatchet against the
Oneidas?"
"The Black Eagle dreamed a dream," replied the chief, round whom
numerous Oneidas, fully equipped for war, had by this time gathered;
"and in his dream he saw ten men come from the mid-day into the land
of the Oneida, and ten men from the side of the cold wind. They wore
the garb of peace, and called themselves brothers of the children of
the Stone. But the eyes of the Black Eagle were strong in his dream,
and he saw through their bosoms, and their hearts were black; and a
voice whispered to him, they come to steal from the Oneida that which
they cannot restore, and to put a burden upon the children of the
Stone that they will not carry."
"Was it not the voice of the singing bird?" asked the young Mohawk
chief. "Was the dream sent by the bad spirit?"
"I know not," answered the Black Eagle. "Say ye! But the Black Eagle
believed the dream, and, starting up, he called his warriors round
him, and he sent Lynx-eyes, the Sachem of the Bear, to the north, and
led his own warriors to the south, saying, 'Let us go and meet these
ten men, and tell them, if they be really brethren of the Oneida, to
come with us and smoke the pipe of peace together, and eat and drink
in our lodges, and return to their own land when they are satisfied;
but, if their hearts are black and their tongues double, then let us
put on the war-paint openly, and unbury the long-buried hatchet, and
take the war-path like men and warriors, and not creep to mischief
like the silent copperhead.'"
The last words were spoken in a voice of thunder, while his keen black
eye flashed, and his whole form seemed to dilate with indignation.
The Mohawks stood silent before him; and even the young chief who had
shown himself the boldest amongst them, bent down his eyes to the
ground. At length, however, after a long pause, he answered--
"The Black Eagle has spoken well; and he has done well, though he
should not put too much faith in such dreams. The Mohawk is the
brother of the Oneida: the children of the Stone and the men of
blood[2] are one, though the Mohawk judges the Oneida hasty in deeds.
He is a panther that springs upon his prey from on high, before he
sees whether it be not the doe that nourished his young. He forgets
hospitality--"
--------------------
[Footnote 2: A name greatly affected by the Mohawks.]
--------------------
The eyes of the Black Eagle flashed fiercely for a moment; but then
the fire went out in them, and a grave, and even sad look succeeded.
The young man went on boldly, however, saying--"He forgets
hospitality. He takes to death the son of his brother, and sheds the
blood of him who has eaten of the same meat with him. He waits not to
punish the guilty, but raises his tomahawk against his friend. The
Five Nations are a united people: that which brings shame upon one,
brings it upon all. The Mohawk's eyes are full of fire, and his head
bends down, when men say, 'The Oneida is inhospitable: the Oneida is
hasty to slay; and repays faith, and trust, and kindness, by death.'
What shall we say to our white father beyond the salt waters, when he
asks us, 'Where is my son Walter, who loved the Oneidas, who was their
brother, who sat by their council-fire and smoked the pipe of peace
with them?' Shall we say, 'The Oneidas have slain him, because he
trusted to the hospitality of the Five Nations, and did not fly?' When
he asks us, 'What was his crime? and did the Oneidas judge him for it
like calm and prudent men?' shall we answer, 'He had no crime, and the
Oneidas took him in haste without judgment. He was full of love and
kindness towards them--a maple tree overrunning with honey for the
Oneidas; but they seized him in haste, when, in a few moons, they
could have found many others?' If we say thus, what will our great
father think of his red children? Black Eagle, judge thou of this;
and, when thou dreamest another dream, see thou forked-tongued
serpents hissing at the Five Nations, and ask, 'Who made them
hiss?'--I have spoken."[3]
--------------------
[Footnote 3: The word "Hero," or "Hiro," "I have spoken," was so
common in all the speeches of the orators of the Five Nations, that it
was supposed to have given rise, in combination with the word "Koué,"
(an exclamation either of approbation or grief, according as it was
pronounced quickly or slowly,) to the name of "Iroquois," given by the
French to the Five confederate Nations.]
--------------------
The feelings excited by this speech in all the Oneida warriors who
heard it, would be difficult to describe. There was much anger; but
there was more shame. The latter was certainly predominant in the
breast of Black Eagle. He put his hand to his shoulder, as if seeking
for his mantle to draw over his face; and, after a long pause, he
said--
"Alas, that I have no answer! Thou art a youth, and my heart is old.
My people should not leave me without reply before a boy. Go in peace.
I will send my answer to him who sent thee; for our brethren, the
Mohawks, have not dealt well with us in using subtlety. There are more
of you, however. Let them each return to his home; for the children of
the Stone are masters of themselves."
"Of us there are no more than thou seest," returned the young man.
Black Eagle gazed at him somewhat sternly, and then answered--
"Six men have entered the Oneida lands from this side, since morning
yesterday, by separate ways. Let them go back. We give them from sun
to sun, and no one shall hurt them. But if they be found here after
that, their scalps shall hang upon the war-post."
Thus saying, he turned and withdrew with his warriors, while the young
Mohawk and his companions glided back through the woods towards their
own district, almost as silently as they came.
The returning path of the great Oneida chief was pursued by him and
his companions with a slow and heavy tread. Not a word was spoken by
any one; for deep grief and embarrassment were upon each; and all felt
that there was much justice in the reproof of the young Mohawk. They
had come forth with feelings of much indignation and anger at the
intelligence which had been received of the interference of other
tribes in the affairs of the Oneida people, and they still felt much
irritation at the course which had been pursued; but their pride was
humbled, and their native sense of justice touched by the vivid
picture which had been given of the view which might be taken by
others, of their conduct towards Walter Prevost. They knew, indeed,
that that conduct was mainly attributable to one family of one Totem;
but they felt that the shame fell upon the whole nation, and would be
reflected to a certain degree upon the confederacy generally.
Nothing grieved or depressed the Indian so much as the sense of shame.
It was produced, of course, by very different causes from those which
affected a European: still it was very powerful; and Black Eagle felt
that, in the case of Walter Prevost, the customs of his own people had
been violated by his hasty seizure; and that he himself, the chief of
the nation, was in some degree responsible in the eyes of all men for
an act which he had permitted, if he had not done.
At this time, while the confederacy of the Five powerful Nations
remained entire, and a certain apprehensive sense of their danger from
the encroachments of the Europeans was felt by all the Indian tribes,
a degree of power and authority had fallen to the great chiefs which
probably had not been accorded to them in earlier and more simple
times. The great chief of the Mohawks called himself King, and in some
degree exercised the authority of a monarch. Black Eagle, indeed,
assumed no different title than the ordinary Indian appellation of
Sachem; but his great renown, and his acknowledged wisdom, had perhaps
rendered his authority more generally reverenced than that of any
other chief in the confederacy. The responsibility, therefore, weighed
strongly upon him; and it was with feelings of deep gloom and
depression that he entered the great Oneida village shortly before the
hour of sunset.
The women and children were all assembled to see the warriors pass;
all, excepting Otaitsa, who sat before the door of Black Eagle's great
lodge, with her head bent down under an oppressive sense of the
difficulties and dangers of her coming task.
Black Eagle saw her well, and saw that she was moved by deep grief;
but he gave no sign even of perceiving her; and, moving slowly and
with an unchanged countenance to the door, he seated himself beside
her, while his warriors ranged themselves around, and the women and
young people formed another circle beyond the first. It was done
without concert and without intimation; but all knew that the chief
would speak before they parted.
Otaitsa remained silent, in the same position, out of reverence for
her father; and, after a pause, the voice of Black Eagle was heard,
saying,--
"My children, your father is grieved. Were he a woman, he would weep.
The reproach of his people, and the evil conduct of his allies, would
bring water into the eyes that never were moist. But there is a storm
upon us--the heaviest storm that ever has fallen. The waters of our
lake are troubled, and we have troubled them ourselves. We must have
counsel. We must call the wisdom of many men to avert the storm. Let,
then, three of my swiftest warriors speed away to the heads of the
eight tribes, and tell them to come hither before the west is dark
to-morrow, bringing with them their wisest men. Then shall my children
know my mind, and the Black Eagle shall have strength again."
He paused; and Otaitsa sprang upon her feet, believing that
intelligence of what she had done had reached her father's ears.
"Ere thou sendest for the chiefs, hear thy daughter."
Black Eagle was surprised; but no sign of it was apparent on his face.
He slowly bowed his head; and the Blossom went on:--
"Have I not been an obedient child to thee? have I not loved thee, and
followed thy lightest word? I am thy child altogether. Thou has taken
me often to the dwelling of the white man, because he is of my
kindred. Thou hast often left me there, whilst thou hast gone upon the
war-path, or hunted in the mountains. Thou hast said, 'They are of our
own blood. My wife--my beloved--was of high race amongst the pale-face
people of the east; the daughter of a great chief. I served her in the
day of battle, and she became mine; and true and faithful, loving and
just, was the child of the white chief to the great Sachem of the
Oneidas. Shall I keep her daughter from all communication with her
kindred?' Young was I,--a mere child,--when first thou tookest me
there; and Edith was a sister, Walter a brother to me. They both loved
me well, and I loved them; but my love for the brother grew stronger
than for the sister, and his for me. We told our love to each other;
and he said--'When I am old enough to go upon the war-path, I will ask
the Black Eagle to give me Otaitsa; and the red chief and the white
chief shall again be united, and the bonds between the Oneidas and the
English people shall be strengthened.' And we dreamed a dream that all
this would be true; and pledged ourselves to each other for ever. Now
what have I done, my father? The brethren of the Snake and the chief
Apukwa, contrary to the customs of the Oneida, seized upon my
betrothed, carried off my husband captive within four days after their
brother was slain by a white man, but not by my Walter. It is not for
me to know the laws of the Oneidas, or to speak of the traditions of
our fathers; but in this, at least, I knew that they had done evil:
they had taken an innocent man before they had sought for the guilty.
I found the place where they had hid him. I climbed to the top of the
rock above the chasm: I descended the face of the precipice. I tied
ropes to the trees for his escape. I loosened the thongs from his
hands and from his feet; and I said, 'This night thou shalt flee, my
husband, and escape the wrath of thine enemies.' All this I did; and
what is it? It may be against the law of the Oneidas, but it is the
law of a woman's own heart, placed there by the Great Spirit. It is
what my mother would have done for thee, my father, hadst thou been a
captive in the hands of thine enemies. Had I not done it, I should not
have been thy child; I should have been unworthy to call the Black
Eagle my father. The daughter of a chief must act as the daughter of a
chief. The child of a great warrior must have no fear. If I am to die,
I am ready."
She paused for a moment; and Black Eagle raised his head, which had
been slightly bowed, and said, in a loud, clear voice--
"Thou hast done well, my child. So let every Indian woman do for him
to whom she is bound. The women of the children of the Stone are not
as other women. Like the stone, they are firm; like the rock, they are
lofty. They bear warriors for the nation. They teach them to do great
deeds."
"Yet bear with me a little, my father," rejoined Otaitsa; "and let thy
daughter's fate be in thy hand before all the eyes here present.
Apukwa and the brethren of the Snake had set a watch, and stole upon
me and upon my white brother, and mocked thy daughter and her husband,
and bound his hands and feet again, and said that he should die."
It is rare that an Indian interrupts the speech of any one; but the
heart of the chief had been altogether with Otaitsa's enterprise; and
he now exclaimed, with great anxiety--"Then has he not escaped?"
"He has not," replied Otaitsa; "it went as I have said. Walter Prevost
is still in the hands of the brethren of the Snake, and of Apukwa; and
he is not safe, my father, even until the nation shall have decided
what shall be his fate. When the nation speaks," she continued,
emboldened by her father's approbation, "then will Otaitsa live or
die; for I tell thee, and I tell all the warriors here present, that
if my husband is slain for no offence by the hand of an Oneida, the
daughter of the chief dies too."
"Koué, koué!" murmured the chiefs, in a low, sad tone, as they gazed
upon her, standing in her great beauty by her father's side, while the
setting sun looked out from beneath the edge of the snow-cloud, and
cast a gleam of rosy light around her.
"He is not safe, even till the word is spoken," said Otaitsa: "for
they are bad men that hold him. They took him contrary to our customs.
They despise our laws. They are Honontkoh, and fear nothing but the
tomahawk of the Black Eagle. They drink blood. They slay their mothers
and their brethren. They are Honontkoh!"
A murmur of awe and indignation at the hated name of the dark secret
order existing amongst the Indians, but viewed with apprehension and
hatred by all the nobler warriors of the tribes, ran round the circle;
and Black Eagle rose, saying--
"Let them be examined; and, if the stripe be found upon them, set
honest men to guard the lad. To-morrow, at the great council, we will
discuss his fate; and the Great Spirit send us dreams of what is
right! Come with me, my child. The Blossom is ever dear."
Thus saying, he turned and entered the lodge.