There is a pleasure in the pathless woods.
CHILDE HAROLD.
When Arundel awoke after that fierce night, Sassacus had already left
his couch and was preparing their breakfast. The young man stepped to
the door-way of the lodge, and looked out upon the sylvan scene.
Nothing to remind of what had occurred was visible. A shower had
fallen at daylight, and obliterated all traces of violence. The rays
of the early sun were shining in the rain drops glistening on the
leaves or falling in showers to the ground, as the branches were
agitated by the breeze, or shaken by a bird flying from one perch to
another. No sounds other than those made by the feathered musicians,
or the rattling drops, disturbed the tranquillity of the forest. After
gazing round a few moments, while the contrast betwixt the serenity of
Nature and the passions of man forced itself on his mind, he threw
himself down by his red friend, and together they shared the morning
repast. The curiosity of Arundel induced him to inquire, what had
become of the Indians, who had rendered so timely a service the night
before.
"The breath of Sassacus," replied the chief, "called them out of the
ground, and his breath bade them depart. My brother will forget what
he saw in the dark. It will be to him like a dream."
Arundel understood by this, that he was desired to be silent
respecting what had happened, and indeed no caution was necessary. He,
therefore, said, in answer:
"None shall know the exploits of Sassacus till he tells them himself."
"If Soog-u-gest asks, my brother may tell. He and Sassacus lie under
one skin."
Thus betrayed itself the simple vanity of the savage, who, with all
his caution, was unwilling that his prowess should remain concealed;
yet preferred its announcement from some tongue other than his own. It
was the first intimation to Arundel that the Knight and chief were
acquainted, though Sassacus had once before spoken of Sir Christopher.
But the words of the Pequot implied more, viz: that an intimacy
existed between them, and this stimulated his curiosity. The anxiety
of Sir Christopher that the Indian should be warned of the danger
which threatened him, was now explained. They were friends, but why
should the Knight conceal the fact?
"Has my brother been long acquainted with Soog-u-gest," inquired
Arundel.
"Ne-ka-tunch nee-zusts," (six moons), replied the Indian, holding up
six fingers.
"Will the chief tell me what he pleases about him?" said the young
man, whose ingenuous nature revolted at any attempt by insidious
questions to extract from the savage a knowledge which he desired to
conceal. It appeared unworthy of himself, and a wrong to both his
friends. "I know little of Soog-u-gest, and would like to learn more."
The fine, bold face of the Indian looked pleased at the frankness of
Arundel, and, it is probable, that he was more communicative than if
he had been adroitly questioned. His native subtlety might then have
taken alarm, and cunning been met by cunning. But Sassacus felt no
desire, on his own account, for concealment. The two young men had
been strongly attached to each other from the first, and on the side
of the Indian, at least, was springing up a friendship for the other,
more like that which Plato celebrates among the Greeks, or Cicero
dilates upon, than the feeling of modern times.
"Listen, my brother," said the chief. "It is more than six moons since
Soog-u-gest came into the woods. Sassacus was laughing when he said
that six moons only had lighted the path betwixt him and Soog-u-gest,
but he is not laughing now. The white chief built his wigwam in the
woods because he loves the Indians and the sound of their language,
and Sassacus loves him for that reason, and because he has sat in the
lodge on the pleasant bank of the Pequot river, and ate venison with
Sassacus from the same fire. All Indians love to hear him tell how
great and happy they might be. He knows more of the tribes than any
other white man, and has been far toward the setting sun, even beyond
the country of the Maquas. Soog-u-gest is very wise, and his eyes
pierce far into the darkness. And now let my brother bend down his
head, so that not one of my words may be lost. Soog-u-gest has
promised to teach the Indians to become wise and powerful like the
white men. Perhaps now that my brother knows that, he will help."
"But Governor Winthrop and the ministers will teach all that can be
taught you, and so will all the English."
"My brother is mistaken," said Sassacus, earnestly. "Sachem Winthrop's
men are jealous of their great Manito, and do not wish to teach the
Indians how to talk with him, lest he should like us better than
themselves. Now, we want to know how to talk with the Manito who
instructed them in so many things. If they are good for Owanux, they
may be good for us too."
"Certain am I, Sassacus," said Arundel, "nothing would delight the
noble heart of the Governor more than to have you Christians."
"Sassacus wishes not to be a Christian. He was born an Indian, and
will live and die true to the traditions of his race. Christian is
good for Owanux, but is very bad for the red men. The beavers build
dams in the streams, while the eagle flies among the clouds. The
English are beavers, but Sassacus is an eagle."
"But how can you attain to the knowledge of the white men, without
becoming like them?"
"My brother must not be angry when Sassacus says, that is a pappoose
question. See! I can teach my brother to make bows and shoot arrows.
Can he not instruct Sassacus how to make guns, and the little black
seeds which cause the lightning?"
"That is not so easy as thou thinkest. I know not myself how to make
guns, and the powder which thou callest seeds."
"Toh!" replied the Indian, shaking his head, "my brother is afraid
Sassacus might hurt himself with the lightning."
"Why should the chief doubt my word? I tell thee that only certain men
among us make guns. They are all brought from a great island beyond
the sea."
"The English are very cunning. They make them in secret, so that the
Indians may not learn."
"It grieves me that my friend thinks I speak to him with two tongues.
But I will not be offended. Are we not brothers?"
"When my brother loves Sassacus more he will tell him all about these
things, and they will then have one head and one heart."
"They both belong to Sassacus now. But what does he intend to do? Will
he return with me to Boston?"
"Let my brother go to Shawmut, and if there is any danger he will let
me know, Sassacus will remain."
"You judge rightly. There were peril in showing thyself there now. But
how shall I find thee again?"
"When my brother journeys in the forest, and would see Sassacus, let
him make a noise like the Gues-ques-kes-cha, and Sassacus, or one of
his sanops will find him." He whistled the peculiar note of the bird,
(the robin,) and smiled at the awkward imitation of Arundel.
"Good for Indian. My sanops, when they hear, will know who is the
Gues-ques-kes-cha."
Thus parted the two friends. As Arundel pursued his lonely way, he
kept running over in his mind the events of the day before, and of the
past night. He admired the sagacity and courage of the Pequot Sachem,
who, assisted either by his own men, or friendly Aberginians, had been
able to take a bloody revenge for the attempt on his life. But no
satisfactory reason occurred to him why the body of Pieskaret should
have been fastened to the raft. It seemed a wanton act of bravado,
which he could not reconcile with the known qualities of Sassacus.
Concealment and not exposure, he thought, should have been the policy,
but on the contrary, the very course had been adopted most likely to
lead to discovery. Why again, he thought, is the chief of a distant
tribe lurking in these woods? He surely can cherish no evil design
against the colony, for there is no misunderstanding betwixt the
English and the Pequots.
His thoughts then dwelt upon the Knight, and upon his connection with
the savage. Who was this man, who, in the flower of his age, and with
all the accomplishments of a gentleman, chose to retire from the
world, and with his sad companion, immure himself in the woods? He was
no sour anchorite, who regarded with displeasure the innocent
enjoyments of life, nor did he appear to be an unprincipled
adventurer, who had fled from restraint in the old world, in order to
give license to his passions in the new. He was evidently a man of
consideration in the colony. He was treated with attention by all,
courted by the whites, and held in high estimation by the Indians.
That such a man as Sir Christopher Gardiner should adopt that wild
life of seclusion, did not indeed strike the mind of Arundel with the
degree of surprise wherewith our own are affected, for it was a time
of adventure and romance; the poetry of life was not bound up
principally in books, but was acted out in deeds; and the occurrence
of daily wonders, while it destroyed their singularity, abated
curiosity on their account. Hence men expressed no astonishment at the
course of life of the Knight; hence, when Arundel became acquainted
with him, he felt none, and it was only upon more intimate
acquaintance--after Sir Christopher began to take an interest in him;
after he had noted the influence exercised by the Knight over the
ambassadors; and after he had discovered, as he supposed, a community
of aims betwixt the Knight and Sassacus, that his curiosity awoke. To
judge from the communication of the Indian chief, it would seem as if
the Knight were a sort of missionary among the natives, to teach them
the arts and practices of civilized life; but nothing that Arundel
himself had noticed, justified any such suspicion. All he knew of Sir
Christopher was, that he was passionately fond of the chase, which
frequently led him deep into the forest, and had been known in some
instances to detain him several days away from home.
As for the pale lady who, always clothed in black, appeared to be
devoured by some secret sorrow, and whom the Knight called his cousin,
it did not seem at all strange that she should love retirement, to
indulge the sad luxury of grief. A bruised heart loves darkness and
silence.
The conclusion to which Arundel came was, that it was partly affection
for his fair cousin, and partly a love of adventure, which had brought
Sir Christopher for a season to America, and that his kindness to the
Indians, and familiarity with them, had induced Sassacus, and perhaps
others, to indulge hopes as wild and improbable of execution, as their
ignorance was boundless. Pursuing these meditations, he proceeded on
to the settlement, and arrived at the wharf, whither he was attracted
by the little crowd a short time after the departure of the
Taranteens, who were still in sight.
It was at the moment when the Knight was about to part from the deputy
Governor, that the young man came up. He remarked the disturbed
countenance of the latter; but that of the former, whatever he felt,
betrayed no emotion.
"Young sir," said Dudley, "I have not seen thee for a long time. How
continues Master Arundel to like the new world?"
"Indifferently well," replied Arundel. "Of every land, new or old,
something favorable may be said."
"I observe thou dost hanker after the flesh pots of Egypt, and art
lean in the midst of abundance. It is because thou lackest those views
of truth, and that sustaining faith which can make all trials welcome
for their sake."
"Methinks," said the Knight, with a smile, "that the fair rosy cheeks,
and rounded limbs of our young friend, indicate no want of the
reasonable comforts of life."
"I doubt not," said the rough Dudley, without heeding the observation,
"that to them who come hither through an idle curiosity, or for wanton
pastime, or for purposes still more unworthy, this fair land possesses
only temporary attractions; but for those who, with faith in the
promises, have cast in their lot with the people of God, it is the
land of promise. Here from altars unpolluted by the abominations of
Rome, and free from the besotted mimicry of the Church of England, so
called, shall ascend hosannas from the Church and the armies of
Israel. Here, into the congregation, shall enter nothing that telleth
a lie, or causeth to offend."
He bowed formally, and involuntarily grasping with his left hand the
sword that hung at his side, departed.
"Rude, unjust, fanatical, I had almost said blasphemous," exclaimed
the Knight, looking after him. "Ungracious Dudley! success crown all
thy plans, whereon the true church shall indeed set her seal, and
confounded be the devices of her enemies."
"Softly," with no heightened color, with no elevation of the voice,
with eyes turned up to heaven as if he were uttering a benediction,
spoke Sir Christopher. "And now, Master Arundel," he inquired, taking
the young man's arm, "hast found Sassacus?"
Arundel did not hesitate, after the permission given by the Indian,
which rightly seemed more like a request, to acquaint his friend with
the adventures of the night. Sir Christopher listened attentively,
making no comment till the narrative was concluded. He then said:
"The mystery of the morning is explained." And now, in his turn, he
related the discovery of the dead body and the indignation of the
Indians, and pointed to their canoes fading in the distance.
"The circumstances," he added, "in which we have obtained knowledge of
the secret locks it per force in our breasts; and, besides, Sassacus
is faultless, having only protected thy life and saved his own, which
is an additional reason. But, aside from these considerations, I see
not how the disclosure could be attended with any advantage. The chief
hath not shown himself hostile, or done aught to make himself amenable
to our jurisdiction. Were the story to get wind, it could only excite
more the revengeful feeling of the Taranteens and the ill-will of
malignant spirits among us, who, through the Pequot, have been
disappointed in expectations of trade."
There was no difference of opinion between the two, and it was
understood that they should be silent on the subject.
"Master Spikeman," said the Knight, addressing the Assistant who now
met them, "it is a pity we had not the benefit of thy prudent counsels
in a matter that hath just happened; yet do I trust that our conduct
will be approved by thy better judgment."
"Sir Christopher Gardiner stands in no need of the sanction of my poor
opinion for anything it may please him to do," answered Spikeman. "But
resolve me your riddle."
"Know you not that the ambassadors have left in anger?"
"I know it, and the knowledge fills me with foreboding sorrow."
"Whether we should have detained or allowed them to depart in their
present frame of mind, is the question which I would submit to thy
decision?"
"I presume not to arraign any conclusion, whereunto either the
worshipful deputy or Sir Christopher Gardiner may arrive. Doubtless,
they acted after grave consideration."
"Yet, being asked, tell me, with thy usual candor, Master Spikeman,
what you yourself would have done in like circumstances?"
The Assistant saw the snare, and determined that the Knight should
derive no advantage from the question. He perceived that the object
was to estop, by his admissions, any objections to the course pursued
in permitting the Taranteens to leave, which he might afterwards be
disposed to make. He, therefore, replied:
"Never be it said that I officiously obtruded an opinion; but, Sir
Christopher, thus urged, I confess that it had better pleased me had
the savages been detained. Opportunity might then have been afforded
to disabuse their ignorance and convince them of our innocence."
"I will not say thou art in the wrong, but if the excellent Dudley
erred, it is a strange departure from his ordinary admirable
judgment."
"I pray thee to understand that I impugn not the action of the
judicious Deputy Governor; but wherefore gave you not--you who are so
well acquainted with the nature of these heathens--advice to stop them
for the present?"
"And how know you I gave it not? But truly, Master Spikeman, I did
not. I trust I am not forward to speak before princes. For what saith
Holy Scripture: 'Even a fool, when he holdeth his peace, is counted
wise; and he that shutteth his lips is esteemed a man of
understanding.' Yet had I seen any imminent danger from allowing the
departure of the savages, believe me I had spoken, even at the risk of
incurring the dishonor to see my counsel rejected."
"It is evident, Sir Christopher, that you have grave doubts on the
subject. Now, methinks, it had been well to remember (casting aside,
as an inconvenient garment, these scruples) what the wise king of
Israel also said, in another place: 'Where no counsel is, the people
fall; but in the multitude of counsellors there is safety.'"
"It pains me," answered the Knight, whose courtesy increased with the
other's coldness, "not to obtain thine approval. But, Master Spikeman,
now that we are alone, (for Arundel, at the very beginning of the
conversation, without greeting, or in any wise noticing, the
Assistant, had passed on and was out of sight), I avail myself of the
good chance to avow my anxious desire to secure thy friendship."
"If such truly be the wish of Sir Christopher Gardiner," returned the
Assistant, "it is a thing easy to be compassed."
The countenance of the Knight lighted up, as he replied, "I rejoice
greatly at thy words."
"But," continued Spikeman, "I am a man of deeds and not of words. I
will be plain with you, Sir Christopher, and show you that it is no
fault of mine that I have been unable (however much desiring it) to
look upon you as a well wisher of mine, but your own. Have you not
interfered in favor of, and harbored, that Philip Joy, convicted of
contumelious language against the magistrates and elders, and whom, I
have reason to believe, is specially evil-disposed toward myself; and
are you not now in open familiarity with, and a supporter of this
young man, who but just now parted from you; who deigned not, even by
a look, to notice me; and whose business here seems to be to scatter
reports intended to work detriment to my character? It is conduct like
this which hath separated us one from the other."
"Master Spikeman," said the Knight, deprecatingly, "the relation
wherein I stand to Philip is of public notoriety, and, therefore,
cannot be unknown to you; and, meseems, is sufficient to excuse the
slight favor I show him. Yet, herein will I approve myself loyal unto
my regard for thee. I believe thou errest in ascribing an evil intent
on the part of Philip, but if he cherish any such, I will take order
with him, which shall redound to thy satisfaction. As for this Master
Arundel, thou layest more stress upon a casual acquaintance with him
than it deserves. I countenance him not. I attach no more consequence
to what he may say than belongs to the prattle of a beardless boy.
Wouldst have me rude to one who enlivens my solitude, being fresh with
news from the old world, and who visits me only through a like love
with myself of sylvan sports?"
"I presume not to dictate to Sir Christopher Gardiner," said Spikeman,
coldly, "who shall be his associates, or what course in any respect he
shall pursue. You will remember that your exculpation (such as it is)
was volunteered by yourself."
The eyes of the Knight fell to the ground at this ungracious reply, so
that his resentment, if he felt any, was hid under their drooping
lids. A faint suffusion passed over his face, but after the pause of a
moment, he extended his hand with a smile, while he said:
"I will find means to dissipate this delusive cloud that interposes
itself betwixt us. Meanwhile, accept my hand, in token that, however
changed thyself, I remain the same."
It was impossible to refuse to take the hand so offered, but it was
with no cordial grasp the Assistant received it: and the two parted
with feelings of aversion to one another, strengthened by the
interview.