They spake not a word,
But like dumb statues, or breathless stones,
Star'd on each other.
SHAKSPEARE.
The time fixed for the audience of the ambassadors on the next day,
was in the afternoon instead of the morning, that all things might be
done with dignity, and an opportunity afforded to show them the fort
erected near the water, and the shipping, and whatever else might
impress them with the power of the whites. With this view, the Indians
had been committed to the charge of the deputy Gov. Dudley, and of Sir
Christopher Gardiner, the latter of whom acted as interpreter. The two
gentlemen accordingly employed themselves in the course of the
forenoon, in exhibiting to their red friends whatever might, in their
judgment, best subserve the object, and at the moment we meet them,
were standing on the deck of the ship commanded by Capt. Sparhawk,
which lay alongside of the wharf. Of the dozen Indians who had been at
the audience on the yesterday only seven were present, and they were
all the oldest. The whole group appeared, to a careless observer,
stolid and unmoved by what they saw; but one who watched them might
notice that they cast inquisitive, though stolen glances, on every
thing around. Moreover, upon closer examination, he might fancy an air
of uneasiness among them, as ever and anon they turned their eyes
toward the houses of the settlement, and the forest that lay beyond.
The jolly Capt. Sparhawk was endeavoring, to the best of his
abilities, to do the honors of his vessel, quite unabashed by the
presence of either Dudley or Sir Christopher.
"What will ye have to drink, my hearties?" he cried, slapping one of
the biggest Indians on the shoulder, who merely turned round and
stared at the questioner. "To you, gentlemen," he said, addressing
Dudley and the Knight, "I can offer some of Mounseer's, or Don
Spaniard's wine, though to my liking, your Rosa Solis is the only
drink fit for a man; and I will wager the good ship Rule Britannia
against a cock boat that these devils will say so too."
"There is no need," said Dudley, roughly. "It were to obscure the
little intellect these savages have, with that which serves no
purpose, save to convert them into brutes."
The Knight's reply was more courteous.
"At another time, worthy Captain, it were a pleasure to accept thine
invitation, but bethink thee that it is early in the day."
"It is near upon twelve," answered the Captain, looking at the sun,
"or I never squinted through a quadrant; and may it please ye,
Governor, wont ye let the red skins speak for themselves?"
"Nay," said Dudley, "so long as they are within my charge, nothing
stronger than water shall pass their lips."
"But," persisted the Captain, "if all I hear on shore be true, I take
it ye are trying to drive a bargain with them imps. Now, have ye never
noticed that the best time to trade with a man is when half a dozen
glasses have warmed his heart?"
"Peace," said Dudley, "no more of this. We came to see the ship and
not to trespass on thy mistaken hospitality."
"The lubberly milksop!" muttered the Captain betwixt his teeth. "But
what," he added aloud, "are the red skins looking at so sharp out to
sea?"
While this conversation had been going on, the attention of the
savages had been arrested by an object floating on the water. It rose
and fell on the heaving sea, at one moment visible, and at the next
hid from view. At first it had been impossible to say what it was. It
might be a spar, or plank, or any part of a shipwrecked vessel. The
tide was coming in, and the object became more and more distinct,
until an old sailor, whose experienced eyes had also been attracted
sea-ward, exclaimed,
"Captain, I'm a green hand, and never weathered the Cape, if there
ben't a man lashed on yon spar."
"By St. George's cross, but I believe thou art right, Dick Spritsail,"
cried the Captain. "It's some poor fellow, I warrant me, whose ship
has gone down, and who made a raft to try his luck. Johnny Shark, do
ye see, is no pleasant customer to become acquainted with, and so he
took a venture on the spar for a Christian burial, instead of making
Jonah's viage."
"It's no Christian," replied Dick, "unless the waters in these
latitudes have the faculty to turn a man black."
The sailor had hardly pronounced the last words, when one of the
Indians, divesting himself of the skin that covered his shoulders,
leaped from the side of the ship, and swam in the direction of the
object which had attracted their attention. It would seem that his
keen eyes, like those of the sailor, had detected the body, and that,
unable to repress his curiosity, he had taken this method to satisfy
it. Amid the loud and wondering exclamations of the white men, and the
subdued gutturals of the Indians, whose straining eyes betrayed their
interest, the swimmer, with lusty strokes, breasted the green billows
as they came rolling into the bay. When he reached the floating mass
he carefully examined it, and then raised a wail sadder than the cry
of the loon over the dark waves, when it anticipates the coming storm.
It was responded to by his companions on board the ship, in a yell of
mingled rage and grief, that was heard in all parts of the village,
and far over the water.
"What possesses the imps now?" cried the Captain, as two more Indians,
following the example of their tribesman, plunged into the water. "I
wonder what they have found?"
"Send a boat after them, Captain, if thou wilt do me a pleasure," said
Dudley, "It seems to be something wherein they take a great interest,
and it will be only friendly to furnish them assistance."
"O, ho! old bear, canst growl sweetly enough an' it suits thy
purpose," said the Captain to himself. "But it shall never be said
that Jack Sparhawk was an unmannerly lubber. Halloo, half a dozen of
ye," he cried aloud, "run aft and lower the boat. Bear a hand, men;
move quick," he added, as they came running from the bow, where they
had been standing, toward the stern. "Jump in Bill," he continued, as
the keel of the yawl touched the water, "take a couple of men, pull
after them red skins, and bring 'em ashore, with whatever they have
found in the offing."
In a very short space of time the boat was pulling away into the
harbor, and soon reached the object of the search. It turned out to be
an Indian, being no other than the warrior Pieskaret, whose corpse the
wily Sassacus had committed to the river Charles, wearing the unshorn
honors of his scalp, in order to avert suspicion from himself, and fix
it on the whites. For rightly did the sagacious chief judge that no
Taranteen could be induced to believe that an Indian would forbear to
possess himself, if he were able, of the coveted prize, especially
that of so mighty a warrior as Pieskaret. And with regard to the
Pequot in particular, he, of all, after the provocation of yesterday,
would be the last, if he had slain Pieskaret, to be supposed capable
of an act of so great self-denial.
The sailors found the Taranteens around the raft, and pushing it
ashore, In spite of the remonstrances of the savages, which the white
men did not half understand, they unlashed the body from the boughs,
and taking it into the boat, pulled for the land, closely followed by
the swimmers. As they approached the vessel, they were ordered by
Dudley to take it to the wharf, and he and the Knight, followed by the
natives, descended the side, and advanced to the spot where the boat
was to land. Here, when they arrived, a considerable group of persons
had collected, and were examining the corpse.
So short a time had passed since the breath left the body, that it
still looked fresh and life-like. There, extended on the sand, lay the
strong, bold man, who but a day before had boasted of his prowess, and
of the terror of his name; now a dog might insult him with impunity. A
deep wound gaped upon his breast, and the water had not washed all the
clotted blood from his head. His countenance wore a look of deadly
ferocity, and it was evident that he had died as a brave man should,
with his face to the foe.
The Taranteens, after the first burst of feeling, looked on in gloomy
silence, and began to cast glances of distrust and apprehension
around. The scalp-lock of Pieskaret was untouched. He had fallen then
in no conflict with Indians. His companions had escaped with the body,
and launched it on the water in order to apprise them of what had
happened, and of their own danger. In low tones they addressed each
other, and drew aside for consultation.
Meanwhile a thousand comments were made by the bystanders. A cloud
rested on the weather-beaten face of Dudley, and over the whole group,
except the Knight, whose equanimity no circumstance seemed able to
disturb.
"I suspected mischief," said Dudley to the Knight, "when this morning,
only half the number of the savages presented themselves; and now doth
it pass my understanding how this miserable wretch lost his life."
"It is seldom that a brawl disturbs our peaceful settlement," said Sir
Christopher, "and I have heard of none during the night. Has your
worship obtained knowledge of any such?"
"Of none. And now will great scandal, and even infamy rest on us, by
reason of this most untoward event, I fear me that our position with
reference to these Taranteens will be worse than it was before, and
that now they will be converted from indifferent neighbors into
relentless enemies, unless we discover and deliver up to them the
murderer, and even that will hardly restore confidence."
"Nor can we say that the man was murdered. It is hard to get a limit
to the unbridled passions of savages; and it may be that it was in
self-defence, or in the endeavor to prevent some other grievous wrong,
that whosoever killed him took his life."
"A mystery doth enshroud the affair. Where lost the man his life, and
by whose hand, and for what cause? It could not be where they camped
in the night. We heard no disturbance, no signs of violence are to be
seen, and the other Indians would have known. If Indians killed him,
why took they not his scalp, and why set they him floating on the
water? Herein it looks like the foolish prank of drunken sailors. But
then what cause of such enmity could there be? for all was done very
quietly. And what has become of the missing Taranteens? Are they too
killed, or in the forest on their way home? Has Sassacus any hand in
this matter? Be it as it may, the bold partizan of the Pequots must be
looked after."
"It is as thou sayest, hard to determine," answered the Knight; "but
if Indians were concerned in this most lamentable deed, strange has
been their conduct. Such truly is not the customary manner of the
natives to dispose of their enemies. Wonderful forbearance indeed, and
disregard of the traditions and superstitions of the tribes must it
require, to allow an enemy, when it can be prevented, to step upon the
happy hunting grounds, bearing the unviolated honors of his head."
"It may be," replied Dudley, "that his foes were unable to tear away
the bloody trophy; that before they could do so his body was rescued
by his companions."
"But how account for his being launched upon the deep? Is this an
Indian mode of disposing of friends?"
"My mind is as perplexed as thine. I will consider the thing more
maturely hereafter. Thou knowest their heathen tongue. Step forward,
may it please thee, and try to calm their irritated spirits, assuring
them of our friendship and grief at what we cannot explain."
Thus requested, the Knight advanced, and commenced a speech to the
savages, to which they listened in moody silence. What he said was of
course unintelligible to all except the Indians, but it appeared not
to produce a favorable impression. No sound, whether of approval or
the contrary, escaped their lips, as, surrounding the corpse of their
companion, they regarded it with ominous brows, until the Knight
concluded, when an Indian addressed him in reply.
"How hast thou prevailed?" inquired Dudley, when the Taranteen
stopped.
"Alas!" replied Sir Christopher, "no representations which I can make
are sufficient to soothe their exasperation or allay their
suspicions."
"Ask them," said Dudley, "after their other companions."
A howl of rage, and a few rapid words, were the return to the inquiry.
"What means that?" said the Deputy Governor.
"They say that they suppose they are following the footsteps of
Pieskaret."
"If such be their belief, then farewell to any treaty or relations of
amity with them. They will soon turn their backs upon both our
hospitality and friendship."
The words of the Deputy Governor were indeed prophetic, for the
Taranteens, now stooping down, raised their friends' corpse from the
ground, and bearing it in their arms, proceeded to their canoes, which
were lying at a little distance on the beach. In one of them (not
without efforts on the part of the whites to induce them to change
their determination) they deposited the body, and covering it with
skins, took their paddles into their hands and pushed from the shore.
"They are gone," said Dudley, as they receded from view; "and many a
weeping wife and mother may rue this miserable day. Better that the
tawny heathen had remained in their trackless forests, listening to
the deluding lies of the French emissaries, than come hither as spies
upon our condition, and to take advantage of our supposed weakness."
"Is it possible," inquired the Knight, "that thou believest not in the
sincerity of the professions of peace made by these poor savages?"
"I trust them not," answered the suspicious Dudley. They are of the
seed of the serpent; and as well might one expect light from the
caverns of the earth, as fidelity and truth from Indians."
"I pray thee, be not so harsh of judgment," said Sir Christopher. "I
have some knowledge of the tribes, and have observed that they are
ever mindful of favor, however studious of revenge; nor is it their
wont, without provocation, to break their word. Canst thou say that
the Taranteens have departed without seeming justification?"
"I suspect that these savages know more of the fate of their
companions, and of the cause of the death of this Pieskaret than they
choose to disclose. The longer my mind broods over the subject, the
more am I convinced that, without fault on their part, they would not
have drawn upon themselves destruction."
But this was a view of the case which seemed to find no favor with Sir
Christopher. With a courtly grace and insinuating address, without
contradicting the other, but rather by the recital of acts of
generosity and evidences of nobleness of spirit which had fallen under
his own observation among the Indians, he endeavored to dispose the
Deputy Governor to a milder judgment. But the prejudices of Dudley
were too deeply rooted to be removed by persuasive manners, or tales
however skilfully framed.
The unfortunate result of the embassy was deeply regretted by the
colonists. They had looked forward to it as a means of increasing
their security, and establishing a trade from which they hoped to
derive large profits. They must now renounce both expectations.
Henceforth their cabins were to be guarded with greater vigilance than
ever, and the courted trade was to remain monopolized by the French.
Moreover, the evil would probably not end there, but distrust and
apprehension spread among the tribes; and if such a feeling were to
become universal, and a general union be the consequence, the
condition of the colony might become one of extreme danger. The
character which the whites would then sustain would be that of men
disregardful of the most sacred obligations; of wretches who, after
offering the rights hospitality, had taken advantage of the
unsuspecting confidence of their guests to murder them. It was true,
that the whole twelve ambassadors might have been destroyed, and a
part were suffered to leave; but it was feared that the
undiscriminating minds of the savages might not give proper weight to
the consideration, or might ascribe it to some policy which was the
more dreadful because so mysterious. It was seen now how great had
been the mistake in permitting Sassacus, the terrible chief of the
Pequots, the most dreaded and implacable foe of the Taranteens, to be
present at the council. Him the Taranteens had seen in apparent good
understanding with the English, and been made the subject of his
taunts in their presence. Might they not justly consider this a
strange way of courting an alliance? True, the English knew not that
Waqua was Sassacus, but would the Indians believe it? Nor had they
known, until the interpreter explained, and until it was too late to
seize the offender, what he had uttered; but would the Taranteens,
amid the excitement of feeling mourning over the loss of friends, much
regard that?