Through the widespread woods which lay between the extensive territory
occupied by the Mohawks and the beautiful land of the Oneidas, early
in 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-colored mat of
ceremony hung from their shoulders as they passed along, somewhat
encumbering them in their progress. They took the narrow trails; but
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 coloring of their clothing showed itself strongly
either against the dark evergreens or the white snow.
The party had apparently traveled from night into day, for as soon as
the morning dawned the head man of the five 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
toward 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 we 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 an
elder man of the party.
"It is not needful now," said the man who seemed the leader of the
party, "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 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 man
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, and 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 exclaimed, as he came near. "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 the Black Eagle, sternly; "nothing is lost which
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 warpath? Who has unburied the hatchet against the
Oneidas?"
"The Black Eagle dreamed a dream," replied the chief, round whom
numerous Oneidas, equipped for war, had by this time gathered, "and in
his dream he saw ten men come from the midday 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 that they came 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 Oneidas, 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, to put on the
warpaint openly, and unbury the long buried hatchet, and take the
warpath like men and warriors, and not creep to mischief like the
silent copperhead!"
These last words were spoken in a voice of thunder, while his keen
black eyes 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, 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 are one, though the Mohawk judges the
Oneida hasty, in deeds. He is the panther that springs upon his prey
from on high, before he sees whether it is not the doe that nourishes
his young. He forgets hospitality----"
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 toward 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 that, 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."
The feeling 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 each of them return to his home, for the children
of the Stone are masters of themselves."
"Of us there are no more than thou seest," answered 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 warpost."
Thus saying, he turned and withdrew with his warriors, the young
Mohawk and his companions glided back through the woods toward 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
anyone, for there were both deep grief and embarrassment upon each;
and all felt that there was much justice in the reproof of the young
Mohawk. They had come forth with feelings of 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 still their pride
was humbled, and their native sense of justice touched by the vivid
picture which had just been given of the view which might be taken by
others of their conduct toward Walter Prevost.
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 attributed 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 from 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 assembled to see the
warriors pass, 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 by her
side, while his warriors ranged themselves round, 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 short pause,
the voice of the 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, telling
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 thy 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 slightest word? I am thy child altogether. Thou hast
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
warpath, or hunted in the mountains. Thou hast said, 'They are of our
own blood. My wife, my beloved, was of high race amongst the paleface
people of the east, the daughter of a great chief. I saved 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 warpath 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 forever. Now,
what have I done, my father? The brethren of the Snake, and the chief
Apukwa, contrary to the customs of the Oneidas, seized upon my
betrothed, carried off my husband captive 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
two 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 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," said 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 shall die!"
It is rare that an Indian interrupts the speech of anyone, 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!"
"Koui! koui!" 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 peeped 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 more noble 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.