"Like gun when aimed at duck or plover,
Kicks back and knocks the shooter over."
There was at Windsor Hall, an old family servant, known alike to the
negroes and the "white folks," by the familiar appellation of Uncle
Giles. He was one of those old-fashioned negroes, who having borne the
heat and burden of the day, are turned out to live in comparative
freedom, and supplied with everything that can make their declining
years comfortable and happy. Uncle Giles, according to his own account,
was sixty-four last Whitsuntide, and was consequently born in Africa. It
is a singular fact connected with this race, that whenever consulted
about their age, they invariably date the anniversary of their birth at
Christmas, Easter or Whitsuntide, the triennial holydays to which they
are entitled. Whether this arises from the fact that a life which is
devoted to the service of others should commence with a holyday, or
whether these three are the only epochs known to the negro, is a
question of some interest, but of little importance to our narrative. So
it was, that old uncle Giles, in his own expressive phrase was, "after
wiking all his born days, done turn out to graze hisself to def." The
only business of the old man was to keep himself comfortable in winter
by the kitchen fire, and in summer to smoke his old corn-cob pipe on the
three legged bench that stood at the kitchen door. Added to this, was
the self-assumed duty of "strapping" the young darkies, and lecturing
the old ones on the importance of working hard, and obeying "old massa,"
cheerfully in everything. And so old uncle Giles, with white and black,
with old and young, but especially with old uncle Giles himself, was a
great character. Among other things that increased his inordinate
self-esteem, was the possession of a rusty old blunderbuss, which, long
since discarded as useless by his master, had fallen into his hands, and
was regarded by him and his sable admirers as a pearl of great price.
Now it so happened, that on the morning to which our story refers, uncle
Giles was quietly smoking his pipe, and muttering solemnly to himself in
that grumbling tone so peculiar to old negroes. When he learned,
however, of the intended attack of the Indians, the old man, who well
remembered the earlier skirmishes with the savages, took his old
blunderbuss from its resting-place above the door of the kitchen, and
prepared himself for action. The old gun, which owing to the growing
infirmities of its possessor, had not been called into use for years,
was now rusted from disuse and neglect; and a bold spider had even dared
to seek, not the bubble reputation, but his more substantial gossamer
palace, at the very mouth of the barrel. Notwithstanding all this, the
gun had all the time remained loaded, for Giles was too rigid an
economist to waste a charge without some good reason. Armed with this
formidable weapon, Giles succeeded in climbing up the side of the low
cabin kitchen, by the logs which protruded from either end of the wall.
Arrived at the top and screening himself behind the rude log and mud
chimney, he awaited with a patience and immobility which Wellington
might have envied, the arrival of the foe. Here then he was quietly
seated when the conference to which we have alluded took place between
the Indian warriors.
"Bird flown," said Manteo, the leader of the party. "Nest empty."
Two or three of the braves stooped down and began to examine the soft
sandy soil to discover if there were any tracks or signs of the family
having left. Fortunately the search seemed satisfactory, for the
foot-prints of Bernard's and Hansford's horses, as they were led from
the house towards the stable on the previous evening, were still quite
visible.
This little circumstance seemed to determine the party, and they had
turned away, probably to seek their vengeance elsewhere, or to return at
a more propitious moment, when the discharge of a gun was heard, so
loud, so crashing, and so alarming, that it seemed like the sudden
rattling of thunder in a storm.
Luckily, perhaps for all parties, while the shot fell through the poplar
trees like the first big drops of rain in summer, the only damage which
was done was in clipping off the feather which was worn by Manteo as a
badge of his position. When we say this, however, we mean to refer only
to the effect of the _charge_, not of the _discharge_ of the gun, for
the breech rebounding violently against old Giles shoulder, the poor
fellow lost his balance and came tumbling to the ground. The cabin was
fortunately not more than ten feet high, and our African hero escaped
into the kitchen with a few bruises--a happy compromise for the fate
which would have inevitably been his had he remained in his former
position. The smoke of his fusil mingling with the smoke from the
chimney, averted suspicion, and with the simple-minded creatures who
heard the report and witnessed its effects the whole matter remained a
mystery.
"Tunder," said one, looking round in vain for the source from which an
attack could be made.
"Call dat tunder," growled Manteo, pointing significantly to his moulted
plume that lay on the ground.
"Okees[8] mad. Shoot Pawcussacks[9] from osies,"[10] said one of the
older and more experienced of the party, endeavouring to give some
rational explanation of so inexplicable a mystery.
A violent dispute here arose between the different warriors as to the
cause of this sudden anger of the gods; some contending that it was
because they were attacking a Netoppew or friend, and others with equal
zeal contending that it was to reprove the slowness of their vengeance.
From their position above, all these proceedings could be seen, and
these contentions heard by the besieged party. The mixed language in
which the men spoke, for they had even thus early appropriated many
English words to supply the deficiencies in their own barren tongue, was
explained by Mamalis, where it was unintelligible to the whites. This
young girl felt a divided interest in the fate of the besieging and
besieged parties; for all of her devotion to Virginia Temple could not
make her entirely forget the fortunes of her brave brother.
In a few moments, she saw that it was necessary to take some decisive
step, for the faction which was of harsher mood, and urged immediate
vengeance, was seen to prevail in the conference. The fatal word "fire"
was several times heard, and Manteo was already starting towards the
kitchen to procure the means of carrying into effect their deadly
purpose.
"I see nothing left, but to defend ourselves as we may," said Hansford
in a low voice, at the same time raising his musket, and advancing a
step towards the window, with a view of throwing it open and commencing
the attack.
"Oh, don't shoot," said Mamalis, imploringly, "I will go and save all."
"Do you think, my poor girl, that they will hearken to mercy at your
intercession," said Colonel Temple, shaking his head, sorrowfully.
"No!" replied Mamalis, "the heart of a brave knows not mercy. If he gave
his ear to the cry of mercy, he would be a squaw and not a brave. But
fear not, I can yet save you," she added confidently, "only do not be
seen."
The men looked from one to the other to decide.
"Trust her, father," said Virginia, "if you are discovered blood must be
shed. She says she can save us all. Trust her, Hansford. Trust her, Mr.
Bernard."
"We could lose little by being betrayed at this stage of the game," said
Temple, "so go, my good girl, and Heaven will bless you!"
Quick as thought the young Indian left the room, and descended the
stairs. Drawing the bolt of the back door so softly, that she scarcely
heard it move, herself, she went to the kitchen, where old Giles, a prey
to a thousand fears, was seated trembling over the fire, his face of
that peculiar ashy hue, which the negro complexion sometimes assumes as
an humble apology for pallor. As she touched the old man on the
shoulder, he groaned in despair and looked up, showing scarcely anything
but the whites of his eyes, while his woolly head, thinned and white
with age, resembled ashes sprinkled over a bed of extinguished charcoal.
Seeing the face of an Indian, and too terrified to recognize Mamalis, he
fell on his knees at her feet, and cried,
"Oh, for de Lord sake, massa, pity de poor old nigger! My lod a messy,
massa, I neber shoot anudder gun in all my born days."
"Hush," said Mamalis, "and listen to me. I tell lie, you say it is
truth; I say whites in Jamestown; you say so too--went yesterday."
"But bress your soul, missis," said Giles, "sposen dey ax me ef I shot
dat cussed gun, me say dat truf too?"
"No, say it was thunder."
At this moment the tall dark form of Manteo entered the room. He started
with surprise, as he saw his sister there, and in such company. His dark
eye darted a fierce glance at Giles, who quailed beneath its glare.
Then turning again to his sister, he said in the Indian tongue, which
we freely translate:
"Mamalis with the white man! where is he that I may drown my vengeance
in his blood."
"He is gone; he is not within the power of Manteo. Manitou[11] has saved
Manteo from the crime of killing his best friend."
"His people have killed my people for the offence of the few, I will
kill him for the cruelty of many. For this is the calumet[12] broken.
For this is the tree of peace[13] cut down by the tomahawk of war."
"Say not so," replied Mamalis. "Temple is the netoppew[14] of Manteo. He
is even now gone to the grand sachem of the long knives, to make Manteo
the Werowance[15] of the Pamunkeys."
"Ha! is this true?" asked Manteo, anxiously.
"Ask this old man," returned Mamalis. "They all went to Jamestown
yesterday, did they not?" she asked in English of Giles, who replied, in
a trembling voice,
"Yes, my massa, dey has all gone to Jimson on yestiddy."
"And I a Werowance!" said the young man proudly, in his own language.
"Spirits of Powhatan and Opechancanough, the name of Manteo shall live
immortally as yours. His glory shall be the song of our race, and the
young men of his tribe shall emulate his deeds. His life shall be
brilliant as the sun's bright course, and his spirit shall set in the
spirit land, bright with unfading glory."
Then turning away with a lofty step, he proceeded to rejoin his
companions.
The stratagem was successful, and Manteo, the bravest, the noblest of
the braves, succeeded after some time in persuading them to desist from
their destructive designs. In a few moments, to the delight of the
little besieged party, the Indians had left the house, and were soon
buried in the deep forest.
"Thanks, my brave, generous girl," said Temple, as Mamalis, after the
success of her adventure, entered the room. "To your presence of mind we
owe our lives."
"But I told a lie," said the girl, looking down; "I said you had gone to
make Manteo the Werowance of the Pamunkeys."
"Well, my girl, he shall not want my aid in getting the office. So you,
in effect, told the truth."
"No, no; I said you had gone. It was a lie."
"Ah, but, Mamalis," said Virginia, in an encouraging voice, for she had
often impressed upon the mind of the poor savage girl the nature of a
lie, "when a falsehood is told for the preservation of life, the sin
will be freely forgiven which has accomplished so much good."
"Ignatius Loyola could not have stated his favourite principle more
clearly, Miss Temple," said Bernard, with a satirical smile. "I see that
the Reformation has not made so wide a difference in the two Churches,
after all."
"No, Mr. Bernard," said old Temple, somewhat offended at the young man's
tone; "the stratagem of the soldier, and the intrigue of the treacherous
Jesuit, are very different. The one is the means which brave men may use
to accomplish noble ends; the other is the wily machinations of a
perfidious man to attain his own base purposes. The one is the skilful
fence and foil of the swordsman, the other the subtle and deceitful
design of the sneaking snake."
"Still they both do what is plainly a deception, in order to accomplish
an end which they each believe to be good. Once break down the barrier
to the field of truth, and it is impossible any longer to distinguish
between virtue and error."
"Well," said Mrs. Temple, "I am the last to blame the bridge which
carries me over, and I'll warrant there is not one here, man or woman,
who isn't glad that our lives have been saved by Mamalis's
falsehood--for I have not had such a fright in all my days."
FOOTNOTES:
[8] Gods.
[9] Guns.
[10] Heaven.
[11] The good spirit of the Indians.
[12] The pipe of peace.
[13] When a peace was concluded a tree was planted, and the contracting
parties declared that the peace should be as long lived as the tree.
[14] The friend or benefactor.
[15] The Werowance, or chief of a tribe, was appointed by the Governor,
and this mode of appointment gave great dissatisfaction to the Indians.