old man along the side of a great river, until they came to a vessel
that was on the point of sailing; and that his conductor led him on
board and vanished. He remembered the commander of the Tessel, a short
swarthy man,--with crisped black hair, blind of one eye, and lame of
one leg; but the rest of his dream was very confused. Sometimes he was
sailing; sometimes on shore; now amidst storms and tempests, and now
wandering quietly in unknown streets. The figure of the old man was
strangely mingled up with the incidents of the dream; and the whole
distinctly wound up by his finding himself on board of the vessel
again, returning home, with a great bag of money!
When he woke, the gray, cool light of dawn was streaking the horizon,
and the cocks passing the reveil from farm to farm throughout the
country. He rose more harassed and perplexed than ever. He was
singularly confounded by all that he had seen and dreamt, and began to
doubt whether his mind was not affected, and whether all that was
passing in his thoughts might not be mere feverish fantasy. In his
present state of mind, he did not feel disposed to return immediately
to the doctor's, and undergo the cross-questioning of the household.
He made a scanty breakfast, therefore, on the remains of the last
night's provisions, and then wandered out into the fields to meditate
on all that had befallen him. Lost in thought, he rambled about,
gradually approaching the town, until the morning was far advanced,
when he was roused by a hurry and bustle around him. He found himself
near the water's edge, in a throng of people, hurrying to a pier,
where there was a vessel ready to make sail. He was unconsciously
carried along by the impulse of the crowd, and found that it was a
sloop, on the point of sailing up the Hudson to Albany. There was much
leave-taking and kissing of old women and children, and great activity
in carrying on board baskets of bread and cakes, and provisions of all
kinds, notwithstanding, the mighty joints of meat that dangled over
the stern; for a voyage to Albany was an expedition of great moment in
those days. The commander of the sloop was hurrying about, and giving
a world of orders, which were not very strictly attended to; one man
being busy in lighting his pipe, and another in sharpening his
snicker-snee.
The appearance of the commander suddenly caught Dolph's attention. He
was short and swarthy, with crisped black hair; blind of one eye, and
lame of one leg--the very commander that he had seen in his dream!
Surprised and aroused, he considered the scene more attentively, and
recalled still further traces of his dream: the appearance of the
vessel, of the river, and of a variety of other objects, accorded with
the imperfect images vaguely rising to recollection.
As he stood musing on these circumstances, the captain suddenly called
out to him in Dutch, "Step on board, young man, or you'll be left
behind!" He was startled by the sum mons; he saw that the sloop was
cast loose, and was actually moving from the pier; it seemed as if he
was actuated by some irresistible impulse; he sprang upon the deck,
and the next moment the sloop was hurried off by the wind and tide.
Dolph's thoughts and feelings were all in tumult and confusion. He had
been strongly worked upon by the events that had recently befallen
him, and could not but think that there was some connexion between his
present situation and his last night's dream. He felt as if he was
under supernatural influence; and he tried to assure himself with an
old and favourite maxim of his, that "one way or other, all would turn
out for the best." For a moment, the indignation of the doctor at his
departure without leave, passed across his mind--but that was matter
of little moment. Then he thought of the distress of his mother at his
strange disappearance, and the idea gave him a sudden pang; he would
have entreated to be put on shore; but he knew with such wind and tide
the entreaty would have been in vain. Then, the inspiring love of
novelty and adventure came rushing in full tide through his bosom; he
felt himself launched strangely and suddenly on the world, and under
full way to explore the regions of wonder that lay up this mighty
river, and beyond those blue mountains that had bounded his horizon
since childhood. While he was lost in this whirl of thought, the sails
strained to the breeze; the shores seemed to hurry away behind him;
and, before he perfectly recovered his self-possession, the sloop was
ploughing her way past Spiking-devil and Yonkers, and the tallest
chimney of the Manhattoes had faded from his sight.
I have said, that a voyage up the Hudson in those days was an
undertaking of some moment; indeed, it was as much thought of as a
voyage to Europe is at present. The sloops were often many days on the
way; the cautious navigators taking in sail when it blew fresh, and
coming to anchor at night; and stopping to send the boat ashore for
milk for tea, without which it was impossible for the worthy old lady
passengers to subsist. And there were the much-talked-of perils of the
Tappaan Zee, and the highlands. In short, a prudent Dutch burgher
would talk of such a voyage for months, and even years, beforehand;
and never undertook it without putting his affairs in order, making
his will, and having prayers said for him in the Low Dutch churches.
In the course of such a voyage, therefore, Dolph was satisfied he
would have time enough to reflect, and to make up his mind as to what
he should do when he arrived at Albany. The captain, with his blind
eye and lame leg, would, it is true, bring his strange dream to mind,
and perplex him sadly for a few moments; but, of late, his life had
been made up so much of dreams and realities, his nights and days had
been so jumbled together, that he seemed to be moving continually in a
delusion. There is always, however, a kind of vagabond consolation in
a man's having nothing in this world to lose; with this Dolph
comforted his heart, and determined to make the most of the present
enjoyment.
In the second day of the voyage they came to the highlands. It was the
latter part of a calm, sultry day, that they floated gently with the
tide between these stern mountains. There was that perfect quiet which
prevails over nature in the languor of summer heat; the turning of a
plank, or the accidental falling of an oar on deck, was echoed from
the mountain side and reverberated along the shores; and if by chance
the captain gave a shout of command, there were airy tongues that
mocked it from every cliff.
Dolph gazed about him in mute delight and wonder, at these scenes of
nature's magnificence. To the left the Dunderberg reared its woody
precipices, height over height, forest over forest, away into the deep
summer sky. To the right strutted forth the bold promontory of
Anthony's Nose, with a solitary eagle wheeling about it; while beyond,
mountain succeeded to mountain, until they seemed to lock their arms
together, and confine this mighty river in their embraces. There was a
feeling of quiet luxury in gazing at the broad, green bosoms here and
there scooped out among the precipices; or at woodlands high in air,
nodding over the edge of some beetling bluff, and their foliage all
transparent in the yellow sunshine.
In the midst of his admiration, Dolph remarked a pile of bright, snowy
clouds peering above the western heights. It was succeeded by another,
and another, each seemingly pushing onwards its predecessor, and
towering, with dazzling brilliancy, in the deep-blue atmosphere: and
now muttering peals of thunder were faintly heard rolling behind the
mountains. The river, hitherto still and glassy, reflecting pictures
of the sky and land, now showed a dark ripple at a distance, as the
breeze came creeping up it. The fish-hawks wheeled and screamed, and
sought their nests on the high dry trees; the crows flew clamorously
to the crevices of the rocks, and all nature seemed conscious of the
approaching thunder-gust.
The clouds now rolled in volumes over the mountain tops; their summits
still bright and snowy, but the lower parts of an inky blackness. The
rain began to patter down in broad and scattered drops; the wind
freshened, and curled up the waves; at length it seemed as if the
bellying clouds were torn open by the mountain tops, and complete
torrents of rain came rattling down. The lightning leaped from cloud
to cloud, and streamed quivering against the rocks, splitting and
rending the stoutest forest trees. The thunder burst in tremendous
explosions; the peals were echoed from mountain to mountain; they
crashed upon Dunderberg, and rolled up the long defile of the
highlands, each headland making a new echo, until old Bull hill seemed
to bellow back the storm.
For a time the scudding rack and mist, and the sheeted rain, almost
hid the landscape from the sight. There was a fearful gloom, illumined
still more fearfully by the streams of lightning which glittered among
the rain-drops. Never had Dolph beheld such an absolute warring of the
elements: it seemed as if the storm was tearing and rending its way
through this mountain defile, and had brought all the artillery of
heaven into action.
The vessel was hurried on by the increasing wind, until she came to
where the river makes a sudden bend, the only one in the whole course
of its majestic career.[15] Just as they turned the point, a violent
flaw of wind came sweeping down a mountain gully, bending the forest
before it, and, in a moment, lashing up the river into white froth and
foam. The captain saw the danger, and cried out to lower the sail.
Before the order could be obeyed, the flaw struck the sloop, and threw
her on her beam-ends. Everything was now fright and confusion: the
flapping of the sails, the whistling and rushing of the wind, the
bawling of the captain and crew, the shrieking of the passengers, all
mingled with the rolling and bellowing of the thunder. In the midst of
the uproar, the sloop righted; at the same time the mainsail shifted,
the boom came sweeping the quarter-deck, and Dolph, who was gazing
unguardedly at the clouds, found himself, in a moment, floundering in
the river.
[Footnote 15: This must have been the bend at West-Point.]
For once in his life, one of his idle accomplishments was of use to
him. The many truant hours which he had devoted to sporting in the
Hudson, had made him an expert swimmer, yet, with all his strength and
skill, he found great difficulty in reaching the shore. His
disappearance from the deck had not been noticed by the crew, who were
all occupied by their own danger. The sloop was driven along with
inconceivable rapidity. She had hard work to weather a long promontory
on the eastern shore, round which the river turned, and which
completely shut her from Dolph's view.
It was on a point of the western shore that he landed, and, scrambling
up the rocks, he threw himself, faint and exhausted, at the foot of a
tree. By degrees, the thunder-gust passed over. The clouds rolled away
to the east, where they lay piled in feathery masses, tinted with the
last rosy rays of the sun. The distant play of the lightning might be
seen about the dark bases, and now and then might be heard the faint
muttering of the thunder. Dolph rose, and sought about to see if any
path led from the shore; but all was savage and trackless. The rocks
were piled upon each other; great trunks of trees lay shattered about,
as they had been blown down by the strong winds which draw through
these mountains, or had fallen through age. The rocks, too, were
overhung with wild vines and briers, which completely matted
themselves together, and opposed a barrier to all ingress; every
movement that he made, shook down a shower from the dripping foliage.
He attempted to scale one of these almost perpendicular heights; but,
though strong and agile, he found it an Herculean undertaking. Often
he was supported merely by crumbling projections of the rock, and
sometimes he clung to roots and branches of trees, and hung almost
suspended in the air. The wood-pigeon came cleaving his whistling
flight by him, and the eagle screamed from the brow of the impending
cliff. As he was thus clambering, he was on the point of seizing hold
of a shrub to aid his ascent, when something rustled among the leaves,
and he saw a snake quivering along like lightning, almost from under
his hand. It coiled itself up immediately, in an attitude of defiance,
with flattened head, distended jaws, and quickly-vibrating tongue,
that played like a little flame about its mouth. Dolph's heart turned
faint within him, and he had well-nigh let go his hold, and tumbled
down the precipice. The serpent stood on the defensive but for an
instant; it was an instinctive movement of defence; and finding there
was no attack, it glided away into a cleft of the rock. Dolph's eye
followed with fearful intensity; and he saw at a glance that he was in
the vicinity of a nest of adders, that lay knotted, and writhing, and
hissing in the chasm. He hastened with all speed to escape from so
frightful a neighbourhood. His imagination was full of this new
horror; he saw an adder in every curling vine, and heard the tail of a
rattlesnake in every dry leaf that rustled.
At length he succeeded in scrambling to the summit of a precipice; but
it was covered by a dense forest. Wherever he could gain a look-out
between the trees, he saw that the coast rose in heights and cliffs,
one rising beyond another, until huge mountains overtopped the whole.
There were no signs of cultivation, nor any smoke curling amongst the
trees, to indicate a human residence. Every thing was wild and
solitary. As he was standing on the edge of a precipice that
overlooked a deep ravine fringed with trees, his feet detached a great
fragment of rock; it fell, crashing its way through the tree tops,
down into the chasm. A loud whoop, or rather yell, issued from the
bottom of the glen; the moment after, there was the report of a gun;
and a ball came whistling over his head, cutting the twigs and leaves,
and burying itself deep in the bark of a chestnut-tree.
Dolph did not wait for a second shot, but made a precipitate retreat;
fearing every moment to hear the enemy in pursuit. He succeeded,
however, in returning unmolested to the shore, and determined to
penetrate no farther into a country so beset with savage perils.
He sat himself down, dripping, disconsolately, on a wet stone. What
was to be done? Where was he to shelter himself? The hour of repose
was approaching; the birds were seeking their nests, the bat began to
flit about in the twilight, and the night-hawk soaring high in heaven,
seemed to be calling out the stars. Night gradually closed in, and
wrapped every thing in gloom; and though it was the latter part of
summer, yet the breeze, stealing along the river, and among these
dripping forests, was chilly and penetrating, especially to a
half-drowned man.
As he sat drooping and despondent in this comfortless condition, he
perceived a light gleaming through the trees near the shore, where the
winding of the river made a deep bay. It cheered him with the hopes
that here might be some human habitation, where he might get something
to appease the clamorous cravings of his stomach, and, what was
equally necessary in his shipwrecked condition, a comfortable shelter
for the night. It was with extreme difficulty that he made his way
towards the light, along ledges of rocks down which he was in danger
of sliding into the river, and over great trunks of fallen trees; some
of which had been blown down in the late storm, and lay so thickly
together, that he had to struggle through their branches. At length he
came to the brow of a rock that overhung a small dell, from whence the
light proceeded. It was from a fire at the foot of a great tree, that
stood in the midst of a grassy interval, or plat, among the rocks. The
fire cast up a red glare among the gray crags and impending trees;
leaving chasms of deep gloom, that resembled entrances to caverns. A
small brook rippled close by, betrayed by the quivering reflection of
the flame. There were two figures moving about the fire, and others
squatted before it. As they were between him and the light, they were
in complete shadow; but one of them happening to move round to the
opposite side, Dolph was startled at perceiving, by the full glare
falling on painted features, and glittering on silver ornaments, that
he was an Indian. He now looked more narrowly, and saw guns leaning
against a tree, and a dead body lying on the ground.
Dolph began to doubt whether he was not in a worse condition than
before; here was the very foe that had fired at him from the glen. He
endeavoured to retreat quietly, not caring to entrust himself to these
half-human beings in so savage and lonely a place. It was too late:
the Indian, with that eagle quickness of eye so remarkable in his
race, perceived something stirring among the bushes on the rock: he
seized one of the guns that leaned against the tree; one moment more,
and Dolph might have had his passion for adventure cured by a bullet.
He hallooed loudly, with the Indian salutation of friendship: the
whole party sprang upon their feet; the salutation was returned, and
the straggler was invited to join them at the fire.
On approaching, he found, to his consolation, that the party was
composed of white men as well as Indians. One, who was evidently the
principal personage, or commander, was seated on the trunk of a tree
before the fire. He was a large, stout man, somewhat advanced in life,
but hale and hearty. His face was bronzed almost to the colour of an
Indian's; he had strong but rather jovial features, an aquiline nose,
and a mouth shaped like a mastiff's. His face was half thrown in shade
by a broad hat, with a buck's-tail in it. His gray hair hung short in
his neck. He wore a hunting-frock, with Indian leggings, and
moccasons, and a tomahawk in the broad wampum belt round his waist. As
Dolph caught a distinct view of his person and features, he was struck
with something that reminded him of the old man of the haunted house.
The man before him, however, was different in his dress and age; he
was more cheery, too, in his aspect, and it was hard to define where
the vague resemblance lay--but a resemblance there certainly was.
Dolph felt some degree of awe in approaching him; but was assured by
the frank, hearty welcome with which he was received. As he case his
eyes about, too, he was still further encouraged, by perceiving that
the dead body, which had caused him some alarm, was that of a deer;
and his satisfaction was complete, in discerning, by the savoury
steams which issued from a kettle suspended by a hooked stick over the
fire, that there was a part cooking for the evening's repast.
He now found that he had fallen in with a rambling hunting party, such
as often took place in those days among the settlers along the river.
The hunter is always hospitable; and nothing makes men more social and
unceremonious, than meeting in the wilderness. The commander of the
party poured him out a dram of cheering liquor, which he gave him with
a merry leer, to warm his heart; arid ordered one of his followers to
fetch some garments from a pinnace, which was moored in a cove close
by, while those in which our hero was dripping might be dried before
the fire.
Dolph found, as he had suspected, that the shot from the glen, which
had come so near giving him his quietus when on the precipice, was
from the party before him. He had nearly crushed one of them by the
fragment of rock which he had detached; and the jovial old hunter, in
the broad hat and buck-tail, had fired at the place where he saw the
bushes move, supposing it to be some wild animal. He laughed heartily
at the blunder; it being what is considered an exceeding good joke
among hunters; "but faith, my lad," said he, "if I had but caught a
glimpse of you to take sight at, you would have followed the rock.
Antony Vander Heyden is seldom known to miss his aim." These last
words were at once a clue to Dolph's curiosity; and a few questions
let him completely into the character of the man before him, and of
his band of woodland rangers. The commander in the broad hat and
hunting-frock, was no less a personage than the Heer Antony Vander
Heyden, of Albany, of whom Dolph had many a time heard. He was, in
fact, the hero of many a story; being a man of singular humours and
whimsical habits, that were matters of wonder to his quiet Dutch
neighbours. As he was a man of property, having had a father before
him, from whom he inherited large tracts of wild land, and whole
barrels full of wampum, he could indulge his humours without control.
Instead of staying quietly at home, eating and drinking at regular
meal times; amusing himself by smoking his pipe on the bench before
the door, and then turning into a comfortable bed at night; he
delighted in all kinds of rough, wild expeditions. He was never so
happy as when on a hunting party in the wilderness, sleeping under
trees or bark sheds, or cruising down the river, or on some woodland
lake, fishing and hunting, and living the Lord knows how.
He was a great friend to Indians, and to an Indian mode of life; which
he considered true natural liberty and manly enjoyment. When at home,
he had always several Indian hangers-on, who loitered about his house,
sleeping like hounds in the sunshine, or preparing hunting and
fishing-tackle for some new expedition, or shooting at marks with bows
and arrows.
Over these vagrant beings, Heer Antony had as perfect command as a
huntsman over his pack; though they were great nuisances to the
regular people of his neighbourhood. As he was a rich man, no one
ventured to thwart his humours; indeed, he had a hearty, joyous manner
about him, that made him universally popular. He would troll a Dutch
song, as he tramped along the street; hail every one a mile off; and
when he entered a house, he would slap the good man familiarly on the
back, shake him by the hand till he roared, and kiss his wife and
daughters before his face--in short, there was no pride nor ill-humour
about Heer Antony.
Besides his Indian hangers-on, he had three or four humble friends
among the white men, who looked up to him as a patron, and had the run
of his kitchen, and the favour of being taken with him occasionally on
his expeditions. It was with a medley of such retainers that he was at
present on a cruise along the shores of the Hudson, in a pinnace which
he kept for his own recreation. There were two white men with him,
dressed partly in the Indian style, with moccasons and hunting-shirts;
the rest of his crew consisted of four favourite Indians. They had
been prowling about the river, without any definite object until thay
found themselves in the highlands; where they had passed two or three
days, hunting the deer which still lingered among these mountains.
"It is a lucky circumstance, young man," said Antony Vander Heyden,
"that you happened to be knocked overboard to-day, as to-morrow morning
we start early on our return homewards, and you might then have looked
in vain for a meal among the mountains--but come, lads, stir about!
stir about! Let's see what prog we have for supper; the kettle has
boiled long enough; my stomach cries cupboard; and I'll warrant our
guest is in no mood to dally with his trencher."
There was a bustle now in the little encampment. One took off the
kettle, and turned a part of the contents into a huge wooden bowl;
another prepared a flat rock for a table; while a third brought
various utensils from the pinnace, which was moored close by; and Heer
Antony himself brought a flask or two of precious liquor from his own
private locker--knowing his boon companions too well to trust any of
them with the key.
A rude but hearty repast was soon spread; consisting of venison
smoking from the kettle, with cold bacon, boiled Indian corn, and
mighty loaves of good brown household bread. Never had Dolph made a
more delicious repast; and when he had washed it down with two or
three draughts from the Heer Antony's flask, and felt the jolly liquor
sending its warmth through his veins, and glowing round his very
heart, he would not have changed his situation, no, not with the
governor of the province.
The Heer Antony, too, grew chirping and joyous; told half-a-dozen fat
stories, at which his white followers laughed immoderately, though the
Indians, as usual, maintained an invincible gravity.