The good ship _Amity_ was sailing up the magnificent stream of the
Delaware. Her progress, however, was not without impediment, as huge
masses of ice came floating down, lately broken up by the warm sun of
the early spring.
"There's your future home, my friends," said the captain, pointing to
the left side of the coast; "but it will take us some time before we can
reach the spot where our friends have settled. On the right we have
West New Jersey, where, owing to Master William Penn, a new free colony
was settled some time ago; but that is but a small portion of the
territory compared with Pennsylvania. I went out as mate in the _Kent_,
commanded by Captain Gregory Marlow. We carried out the first settlers
and the commissioners. They were nearly all Quakers, and a very good
sort of people they were. I remember, just as we sailed from the
Thames, the king coming alongside, and nothing would satisfy him but
that he must come on board; whereupon he gave us his blessing. Whether
it was of much value or not, it is not for me to say; but whether or
not, we reached port in safety. Several other ships followed. The
commissioners bought land of the natives, and established friendly
relations with them; and if you were to go on shore there now, you would
find as prosperous a community as any in the world." The new settlers,
on hearing this account, looked with greater interest on the far distant
shores of the land to which the captain pointed. On either side tall
forests rose up,--a thick barrier to the country beyond.
"Ay, friends," continued the captain, "it is a fine land, but you will
have many a tall tree to cut down before you can grow wheat and barley
out of it; and for those who love work, there is work enough before
them, not only for them, but for their children, and children's children
after them, and no fear of the country being too thickly peopled."
At length, on a point of land an opening in the forest was seen, with
numerous log huts and other buildings of more pretensions below the tall
trees. It was the town of Newcastle, lately established. However, as
the wind was favourable, and the captain was anxious to reach his
destination, he declined staying there, but sailed on farther up the
river. Each reach of the stream presented some fresh views, greatly by
their beauty delighting the new comers. At length, two vessels were
seen moored off a town on the west bank, which the captain informed them
was the Swedish settlement of Upland. All eyes were directed towards
them. As they approached, the captain declared his belief that one of
them was the _John Sarah_, and in a short time the _Amity_ came to
anchor close to her. She had fortunately, when the hurricane came on,
by furling her sails in time, escaped injury, and had thus been able to
haul up, and gain the mouth of the Delaware. On proceeding up the
stream, however, she and the _Bristol Factor_, the other ship, had been
frozen up where they now were. There was a pleasant meeting of friends,
and all going on shore, offered up their thanks to Heaven together, for
their safe arrival and preservation from so many dangers. The village
off which the _Amity_ had brought up had been built by a number of
Friends, who had arrived in the country several years before. The site
they had chosen was a good one, and many believed that it would be the
future capital of the colony. The scene was very wild, albeit highly
picturesque. Many of the inhabitants of the new settlement, unable to
build houses, had dug caves in the banks of the river, in which they had
taken up their abodes, roofing over the front part with pieces of timber
and boughs. From early dawn till sunset the woodman's axe was at work
felling the tall trees. At night these were piled up, with the branches
and lighter wood beneath; huge fires being kindled as the most rapid way
of disposing of them. Primitive ploughs were at work between the stumps
of the trees, turning up the ground for receiving grain, both of wheat
and Indian corn, while the spade was also wielded by those preparing
gardens. Many languages were heard spoken, while the costumes of the
settlers were still more varied. The dusky forms of the Indians also
were to be seen collected round the settlers, with their painted faces,
their feathered head-dresses, and costumes of skin ornamented with
thread of various colours. Numerous sawpits had been formed, and
sawyers were at work preparing planks for the buildings. Already many
houses had been run up, with high gables, gaily ornamented with paint
and rough carving; for the Swedish settlers had been there already
nearly forty years. The somewhat romantic notions entertained by
Wenlock and his younger fellow passengers were rather rudely dissipated
on their arrival. The work of settling he soon found was a plain
matter-of-fact business, requiring constant and persevering labour.
Some of the settlers remained at the town, others proceeded farther up
the river to a spot near the confluence of the two rivers Schuylkill and
Delaware. Wenlock, however, resolved to wait the arrival of Colonel
Markham, who had gone out as chief agent and commissioner for his
cousin, the governor, some months before. He was now, with his staff,
some distance off, surveying the province. Although not a Quaker, he
was greatly trusted by William Penn, as a man of dauntless courage,
talent, and perseverance. Soon after landing, old Bill Rullock came up
to Wenlock. "I have a favour to ask," he said. "I have knocked about
at sea all my life till I am weary of it. I heard your addresses and
those of others on board, and I have made up my mind to turn Quaker. I
want you, therefore, to get my discharge from the captain. I could run
from the ship, of course, but that would not be a good way of beginning
my new career; so if I cannot leave with a proper discharge, I must go
to sea again. If it is God's will that my old carcase should become
food for fishes, I must submit to it; but I have truly a great fancy for
ending my days in these green woods." Wenlock promised to make interest
with Captain Dinan.
"I shall be sorry to lose him," answered the captain; "but he deserves a
reward for the service he rendered us, and it would be hard to take him
off again to sea against his will. Here is his discharge, and his pay
up to the present time."
The old seaman was highly delighted when Wenlock told him that he was
free.
"And, now, another favour I have to ask is, that I may stick fast by
you. I have still got plenty of work in me, and I should like to serve
you as long as I live. There is another person, however, I should not
like to serve, and that is Jonas Ford."
Ford had behaved so cunningly during the voyage from the West Indies,
that he had considerably lessened the suspicions against him. He had
assured Captain Dinan that he had no thoughts of committing the crime of
which he had been accused; that the words he had uttered, overheard by
Rullock, had reference to an entirely different matter. As Rullock,
indeed, was the only witness against him, and as even the other accused
persons did not criminate him, the captain came to the determination of
proceeding no further in the business. He was, therefore, set at
liberty, and landed with the other passengers. His companions were also
liberated, as they had committed no overt act, and there was no evidence
against them. Ford, who had all along protested his innocence, tried to
worm his way into the confidence of Wenlock, and always volunteered to
accompany him whenever he made any excursions into the interior.
Wenlock, in spite of the young man's professions, disliked him more and
more. Still he could not altogether get rid of him. With the aid of
old Rullock, Wenlock had built a hut for himself in the neighbourhood of
Upland, and he purposed awaiting there the arrival of Colonel Markham.
Hearing, however, at length, that the colonel was within the distance of
five days' march, though he had had but little experience in traversing
the American forests, he yet--by noting the appearance of the bark on
the trees, by the aid of the sun during the day, and by certain marks
which the surveyors had made--believed that he should have no great
difficulty in reaching the colonel's camp. Rullock, of course, wished
to attend him.
"No, my friend," he answered; "you stay at home and take care of the
house. I am strong, and well accustomed to exercise; but, depend upon
it, you would knock up with the fatigue."
The old man was at length obliged to acknowledge that Wenlock was right,
and to submit. Two or three of the old settlers advised him to take a
guide, pointing out the difficulties of traversing the forest; but he,
confident in his own knowledge, persisted in his determination. Staff
in hand, with knapsack on his back, he set forth. It did occur to him,
perhaps, that he should be more at his ease had he possessed a brace of
pistols or a musket; but his profession prohibited their use as a means
of defence, and he declined accepting some arms from a friendly Swede,
who offered them. The weather was fine, and he had learned the art of
camping out. Starting early, he marched on bravely all day, believing
himself to be in the right course. Once or twice he stopped to rest,
and then again proceeded on. At night, collecting a supply of
birch-bark, as he had seen the Indians do, he built himself a wigwam.
Abundance of fuel was at hand, and, lighting his fire, he cooked some
provisions he had brought with him. After this, commending himself to
the care of Heaven, he lay down in his wigwam, and was soon fast asleep.
The following day he journeyed on in like manner. Clouds, however,
obscured the sky, and more than once he doubted whether he was
continuing in the right direction. The third day came, and he pushed
onwards, but before he encamped at night, he felt sure that he must have
diverged greatly from the right path. Still believing that he might
recover it the following day, he lay down to rest. His provisions,
however, ran somewhat short; indeed, he had miscalculated the amount he
should require. At length the fifth day came: his food was expended,
and he had to confess that he had entirely lost his path. The whole day
he wandered on, endeavouring to regain it. At last he got into what
appeared an Indian path. He followed it up, but in the end found that
it only led to a spot where an encampment had once stood--now deserted.
He had been suffering greatly from thirst, even more than from hunger.
To stay still might seal his fate. Onward, therefore, he pushed. At
length, however, from want of food and water, his strength failed him.
His sight grew dim, and, fainting, he fell on the ground. How long he
had lain there he knew not, when he heard a strange, deep-toned,
sonorous voice. Languidly he opened his eyes, and saw standing over him
a tall Indian, of dignified appearance and full costume of paint and
feathers.
"Who are you?" asked Wenlock, dreamily.
"I am Taminent, chief sachem of the red men of this country," answered
the Indian, who, stooping down as he spoke, raised him in his arms.