We next find Segwuna in New York. She was well acquainted with the
way thither, for she had traversed it many times. While pursuing her
purpose in New York, Segwuna lived with a small band of Iroquois on
Staten Island.
Segwuna found much favor among the ladies of the English officers, for
her skill as a prophetess was already established.
She now made it her particular business to call often upon the ladies
of General Clinton and General Knypthausen; and, also, upon Major Andre
in his office, one afternoon, when the principal business of the day
was over.
The offices of the Adjutant-General of the British Army were at No. 1
Broadway, in one of those old Dutch houses the entrance of which led up
a short flight of steps to a huge door having an iron knocker.
Dormer windows faced the street in the second story, and the hip
roof was covered with shingles that were coated with moss and
lichens,--evidences of an ancient construction.
When Segwuna rapped with the iron knocker on the huge door, a
red-coated English Sergeant opened it, and the prophetess modestly
inquired:
“Is Major Andre in?”
“Yes, Madam,” was the reply.
“May I see him?”
“He is very busy,” returned the Sergeant. “Will you give your name, and
state your business?”
“Tell him that Segwuna, the Indian prophetess, has news to tell him.”
“Will you come in and be seated?” continued the military man, who
ushered her into the outer office of the Adjutant-General.
Segwuna went into the outer office and sat down while the Sergeant
rapped on the door of the private office, and a voice within said:
“Come in.”
The Sergeant opened the door carefully and walked up to the desk of the
Adjutant-General and stood at attention until Major Andre turned from a
letter on his desk and glanced up at the soldier, who saluted:
“What is it?” brusquely asked Andre.
“A young Indian woman, who calls herself Segwuna, the prophetess,
wishes to bring you news.”
“Show her in, Sergeant Donovan,” ordered Andre.
The Sergeant went to the outer office, and politely informed Segwuna:
“The Adjutant says that he will see you, Madam.”
Segwuna tripped lightly to the door and entered the presence of one of
the most polished and handsome gentlemen of the British army. Dressed
in the most fastidious manner, his young and pleasing face shone
out with an animated expression of good-will as he arose and bowed
gracefully to Segwuna and said:
“Be seated, Miss Segwuna. I have heard very pleasing accounts of you
from Madam Clinton. Do you wish to tell me what my fate will be, this
evening?”
He had heard the ladies of his acquaintance raving over the wise and
peculiar speeches of this Indian maiden, and Major Andre thought that
he also ought to have something to relate.
A weak point in the military composition of Andre was his romantic and
artistic disposition. He loved the society of ladies. His graceful
manners and polished speech and writings gained him friends among the
ladies of his associates; but his love of foibles and gossip led him
into channels that detracted from his military achievements.
When Segwuna proposed to tell his fortune, he yielded from the very
constitution of his nature. He desired to have a good tale to tell
his lady friends at the next dinner party, where he was sure to be
lionized.
Segwuna simply replied to Major Andre’s question, modestly:
“Yes, Major Andre.”
“I hope that I have no very bad omen in my fortune, Miss Segwuna?” said
Andre, quizzically.
“Well, Segwuna shall have to tell you the truth, Major Andre,” replied
Segwuna soberly.
“All right, do you believe that I am going to succeed in my enterprise,
Segwuna?” asked Andre, bluntly.
“That depends on the will of the Great Spirit, Major Andre,” began
Segwuna, as she started to relate her account to the Adjutant-General.
“Segwuna sees that something very momentous to you and your cause is
going to happen this moon. The nature of your business concerns the
fate of a great fortress and a brave general. I can see the general
walking up and down the bank of a great river, waiting to speak to you.
He wants you to come to him, but if you go to him, he is sure to give
you directions that will bring ruin to you.
“These enterprises will require you to travel by land and by water. If
you keep on the water, you will have no harm come to you, but beware of
the land.
“The Great Spirit has been kind to you, but he does not love your
cause. You are fighting against the will of the Great Spirit when you
try to subdue the land to which he gave the Indian corn. The Great
Spirit hath decreed that every man is to be his own master, and there
is to be no distinction between men, in the land of the Indian’s corn.
If the hunters starve, the chiefs are to starve also.
“I can see that you expect a letter of importance. It is to be brought
by a boat and a fisherman from a distant city. The letter comes from a
gentleman that has your secrets. He writes under a different name from
his own.
“There are many trials for you to pass through during the next moon,
and if you leave the city on a journey to the general walking on the
banks of the great river, you shall lose your life.”
Segwuna paused and said no more.
Andre sat as though fixed to his chair. His thoughts were afar off.
The words of the Indian maiden seemed to stun him, and confound his
understanding. He started to rise and to speak, but he sat down again,
turned away and began to think.
At last he regained enough presence of mind to state to Segwuna:
“I am profoundly impressed with what you say. I shall be pleased to
consult you again. I hope that I shall reward you sufficiently by
giving you this small token of my esteem,” as he arose and held out in
his hand a guinea for Segwuna to accept.
Segwuna arose and declined the proffer of the gold by declaring with
dignity:
“I thank you, Mr. Andre, but the Great Spirit hath no token of worth,
except His bounteous love and kindness.”
Major Andre could say nothing. He was dumbfounded. He simply bowed
Segwuna out, overwhelmed by the startling revelations made by this
sagacious Indian prophetess.