The Pilgrims of New England - Mrs. J. B. Webb
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It was during one of these awful exhibitions of heathen cruelty and
superstition, that Henrich one evening drew nigh to the lodge of Terah,
accompanied by Oriana; and paused at the open entrance, in amazement
and horror at the scene he beheld. The dying man lay stretched on the
ground, in the center of the outer room of the hut, where he had been
placed that he might enjoy the full benefit of the great Powow's skill.
His eyes were closed and his gray hairs hung matted end disordered on
the ground, while his emaciated features appeared to be fixed in death.
A frightful wound was on his breast, and blood was trickling from his
lacerated feet; while the involuntary contractions of his limbs alone
denoted that he was yet alive, and sensible to suffering, which he was
now unable to make any effort to conceal. Around the walls of the hut
stood many of his relatives and dependants, whose countenances
expressed anxiety and hope, mingled with fear of the priestly Sachem.
Among the bystanders, Henrich instantly recognized his friend Jyanough;
and he shuddered to see the ingenious and inquiring youth assisting at
such satanic rites. But the figure that chiefly attracted his
attention, and to which his eyes became riveted, was that of
Tisquantum--the father of his gentle and beloved Oriana! There stood
the Sachem: he whose countenance he had seldom seen disturbed from his
usual expression of gravity and composure, and whose dignity of manner
had hitherto always commanded his respect. There he now stood--a victim
to satanic influence! His tall figure was dilated to its utmost height
by excitement and violent muscular effort, as he stood by the side of
the sick man. His eyes were fixed with a fearful and unmeaning glare on
the darkest corner of the hut, and seemed to be starting from their
sockets; while his hands, stiff and motionless, were extended over the
body of Terah, as if to guard him from the assault of some demons
visible to the conjuror alone. In this statue-like posture he remained
for some moments, while his breast heaved convulsively, and foam
gathered on his parted lips. Then, suddenly, he uttered a yell--so loud
and so unearthly that Henrich started with surprise and terror: and
Oriana caught his hand, and tried to draw him away from a scene that
now filled her soul with shame and sorrow.
But Henrich did not move: he did not heed the beseeching voice, and the
gentle violence of his companion, whose wishes were generally commands
to her white brother.
That yell had recalled the patient to partial consciousness, and he
rolled his blood-shot eyes around him, as if endeavoring to collect his
wandering senses; and then his haggard countenance again resumed the
expression of imperturbable composure and firm endurance that an Indian
warrior thinks it a disgrace to lose, even in the extremity of
suffering. Then Tisquantum sank on one knee beside him, and burst forth
into a passionate address to his deities--the powers of good and evil--
whom he regarded as almost equally mighty to decide the fate of the
patient.
'O, Mahneto!' he exclaimed, in a hoarse and howling voice; 'O,
Richtan-Mahneto,[1] who created the first man and woman out of a stone,
and placed them in these forests to be the parents of thy red children;
is it thy will that Terah shall leave his brethren to mourn his
departed goodness and wisdom, and go on that long and toilsome journey
that leads to the hunting-grounds of our forefathers? Surely when his
spirit _knocks at the door,_ it will be opened to him, and the warriors
of our tribe will welcome him, while his foes will be driven away with
the awful sentence, _Quachet!_[2] Yes, Terah, the wise in counsel, and
the fearless in war, shall surely dwell in the fields of happiness, and
again strike the prey with the renewed strength and skill of his youth.
But not yet, Mahneto! O, not yet!...I see Hobbamock lurking there in the
gloom! I see his fiery eagle eyes, and I hear the flap of his heavy
wing; and I know that he hovers here to suck the blood of Terah, with
all his murderous Weettakos around him![3] But Tisquantum's charms are
too strong for him: he cannot approach the sick man now. Ha! Maatche-
Mahneto!' he cried--and again he fixed his glaring eyes on the dark
space in the far corner of the hut, from which the spectators had
shrunk trembling away--' Ha! spirit of evil! I behold thee--and I defy
thee! Terah is not thine; and my power has compelled thee to send the
_Ashkook,_[4] with his healing tongue, to lick my brother's wounds; and
_Wobsacuck,_ with eagle beak, to devour the venom that clogs his veins,
and makes his breath come short and thick. I feel them on my shoulders,
as they sit there, and stretch out their necks to do my bidding! Terah
shall live!'
[Footnote 1: _'Richtan,'_ supposed to signify old--'Ancient of Days'--
the Maker]
[Footnote 2: _Quachet,_ begone, or _march off;_ supposed to be the
sentence of condemnation uttered against the souls of the wicked, when
they present themselves, and _'knock at the door'_ that leads to the
Indian Paradise.]
[Footnote 3: _Weettako,_ a kind of vampire or devil, into which the
Crees and other tribes suppose all who have ever fed on human flesh to
be transformed after death.]
[Footnote 4: _Ashkooke,_ a demon in the form of a snake, who, with his
brother-fiend, _Wobsacuck,_ are supposed to be sent by Hobbamock to
heal the sick, when forced, by the potent spells of the great Powow, to
work good instead of evil.]
Tisquantum closed his wild oration with another loud and prolonged
yell, to which all the spectators, who crowded the sides of the hut,
replied by a short and yelping cry: and the Powow sank on the ground by
the side of his patient, faint and exhausted by the violent and
sustained exertions to which both his mind and body had been subjected
for several hours without intermission. The attendants, among whom
Jyanough was foremost, hastened to his assistance, and administered to
him some needful refreshment; and Henrich turned away, grieved and
disgusted, and fall of sympathy for his once heathen companion, who, he
now remembered, was standing by his side, and witnessing the wild and
degrading extravagances of a father whom she both loved and respected.
He looked into her deep expressive eyes, and saw that they were filled
with tears of humiliation and mental agony. How could it be otherwise?
How could she--who had learned to love a God of mercy, and to believe
in a meek and lowly Savior--bear to see her father thus the slave of
Satan, and the minister of cruel and heathen superstition? Especially,
how could she bear that so degrading a scene should he witnessed by him
from whom she had derived all she knew of the gospel of joy and peace,
and whose esteem was more precious to her than the opinion of all the
world beside?
Silently she walked by Henrich's side for neither of them were inclined
to speak the thoughts that filled their minds. And silently they would
have proceeded to Oriana's dwelling, where her white brother proposed
to leave her with her attendants, and then to return and seek his
deluded friend Jyanough; but ere they reached Tisquantum's lodge, they
were overtaken by the Indian youth.
Jyanough had been too much engrossed by the exciting scene that took
place in Terah's dwelling--and too eagerly watching for some favorable
appearances that might encourage him to hope for the life of his only
surviving relative--to observe that Henrich was also a spectator of
these heathen rites, until all was concluded, and the patient and his
physician were alike overpowered by heat and exhaustion. Then he had
glanced towards the door, and had seen the saddened expression that
clouded the open features of the Christian youth, and the look of
anguish that Oriana cast on her degraded father; and then all the
truths that Henrich had endeavored so simply and so patiently to
impress upon his mind--all the arguments that his white friend had
employed to win him from heathen darkness, and guide him into Divine
truth--rushed at once upon his memory. He felt ashamed of the remaining
superstition that had led him to take part in such vain ceremonies, and
to deem that they could conduce to his uncle's recovery, after he had
heard, and even assented to, the holy belief of the Christians in the
universal power of Almighty God, and the victory of His Son Jesus
Christ over the devil and all his angels. And he was grieved, also,
that his kind and anxious young teacher should regard him as an
ungrateful, and, possibly, even as a deceitful hearer.
He, therefore, hastened after Henrich and Oriana, and overtook them as
they approached the lodge appropriated to the Nausett Sachem.
'Are you angry with your red brother?' he inquired earnestly, as he
laid his hand on Henrich's shoulder, and looked sadly in his face. 'Do
you think that Jyanough is a deceiver, and that he has listened to the
teaching of the white stranger only to gain his friendship, and then to
forsake him, and betray him, and return to the religion of his own
people? O, no! Jyanough's heart is open and clear before the eyes of
his friend; and he will gladly listen again to all the good things that
Henrich tells him, for his heart says that they are true. But his soul
is still very dark; and when he saw Terah ready to die, and felt that,
when he was gone, there would be none to love him among all his tribe,
the cloud grew thicker and thicker; and Maatche-Mahneto seemed to look
out of the midst of the deep gloom with wrathful eyes of fire, and
beckon him to follow to Terah's lodge, and join in the worship which
the great Powow was about to offer. Will your Mahneto forgive him,
Henrich?
The heart of the Christian boy was penetrated with joy and thankfulness
at this frank confession of the young Indian. He clearly saw that the
struggle--the universal and enduring struggle--between the powers of
good and evil, had already commenced in the soul of the red man; and he
had full confidence in the blessed declaration, that 'He who hath begun
a good work of grace in the immortal spirit, will surely perfect it
unto the end.' Therefore, he replied without hesitation, 'He will
certainly forgive you, Jyanough; and if you desire His help to make
your soul light, and strong, and joyful, and ask for that help in
sincerity and truth, He will most assuredly give it to you. Let us
enter the lodge, and there unite our prayers to the Great Spirit, who
is the God and Father of all his creatures, that He will graciously
shed His light and His truth into all our hearts; and, especially, that
He will remove all the doubts and fears that still lie sadly and
heavily on our brother's spirit.'
The three young friends did so: and in the deserted chamber of the
great heathen Powow, Tisquantum, the voice of Christian supplication
ascended to the throne of a prayer-answering God. Could it ascend
unheeded? or fail to bring down, in His own good time, an answer of
peace?
CHAPTER IX
'The dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty.'
PSA. lxxiv, 20
The night that followed this conversation, Jyanough passed in Terah's
lodge, and he nursed his suffering relative with gentle patience. But
he saw no signs of recovery, although the women and the Cree Powows
assured him that the fatal disease was driven away by Tisquantum's
powerful incantations, and that, when the sun rose, he would see the
spirit of Terah revive. So had the conjuror declared; and so these
misguided heathens believed. But when the first beams of opening day
entered the door of the lodge, which was set open to receive them, and
fell on the dark and pallid features of the aged sufferer, Jyanough
could no longer be deceived into hope. He saw that his revered uncle
was dying, and he hastened to inform Henrich of the fact, and to
entreat him to return with him to Terah's wigwam, and to prey to the
Great Spirit in his behalf.
Henrich readily complied: and he, too, was convinced, by the first
glance at the dying Indian, that no human aid, however skilful, could
long retain that once powerful spirit in its worn and wasted tenement
of clay. He knelt down by the side of Terah's couch, and Jyanough knelt
with him; and, regardless of the wondering gaze of the ignorant
attendants, he offered up a short and simple prayer to God for the
soul of the departing warrior.
The Cree Powows who had watched the sick man during the night, had left
the lodge as soon as daylight set in, to collect materials for a great
burnt offering they deigned to make, as a last resource, in front of
the Pince's dwelling. As Henrich and Jyanough rose from their knees,
the heathen priest entered, bearing strings of wampum, articles of
furniture, of clothing, food, tobacco, and everything of any value that
they had been able to obtain from the friends of Terah. All these
various articles were displayed before the dim eyes of the invalid, for
whose benefit they were to be reduced to a heap of useless ashes; and a
faint smile of satisfaction passed over Terah's countenance: but he
spoke not. Jyanough then bent down, and pressed his lips to the cold
brow of his almost unconscious uncle, and hurried with Henrich from the
lodge; for he could not bear again to witness any repetition of the
heathen ceremonies that had caused him so much shame the preceding day:
neither could he endure to see his last relative leave the world,
surrounded by a spiritual darkness which it was not in his power to
dispel.
The young friends took their way into the forest, that they might be
beyond the sight and the sound of those rites that were about to be
performed for the recovery of one who had already begun to travel
through 'the valley of the shadow of death.' They had not, however,
gone far in a westerly direction, before they chanced their intention,
and resolved to return to the village. The cause of this change of
purpose was their meeting with a band of Cree warriors, who had gone
out, some weeks previously, on an expedition against a settlement of
their enemies, the Stone Indians; and were now returning from the
plains of the Saskatchawan, laden with spoils. Many of the Crees bore
scalps suspended from their belts, as bloody trophies of victory; and
all had arms, and skins, and ornaments that they had carried away from
the pillaged wigwams of their foes.
Henrich could not help gazing with admiration at the party of warriors
as they approached. The greater part of them were mounted on beautiful
and spirited horses of the wild breed of the western prairies, which
they rode with an ease and grace that astonished the young Englishman.
They wore no covering on their heads, and their black hair was cut
short, except one long scalp-lock hanging behind; so that their fine
countenances, which were rather of the Roman cast, were fully exposed
to view. Their dress consisted of a large blanket, wrapped gracefully
round the waist, and confined by a belt, so as to leave the bust and
arms bare; and so perfect and muscular were their figures, that they
had the appearance of noble bronze statues. Their native weapons,
consisting of spears and bows, with highly ornamented quivers suspended
from their shoulders, and battle-axes hung to their belts, added much
to their martial and picturesque effect. Behind the horsemen followed
a band on foot, who carried the stolen treasures of the wasted village;
and Henrich looked with curiosity at the various and beautifully
decorated articles of dress, and hunting equipments, that had formed
the pride and the wealth of the defeated Stone Indians.
But the part of the spoil that interested and distressed both Henrich
and his companion more than all the rest, was a young Indian warrior,
who, with his wife and her infant, had been brought away as prisoners
to add to the triumph, and, probably, to glut the vengeance, of their
conquerors. There was an unextinguished fire in the eye of the captive,
and an expression of fearless indignation in the proud bearing with
which he strode by the side of his captors, that clearly told how
bravely he would sell his life but for the cords that tightly bound his
wrists behind him, and were held by a powerful Cree on each side.
Behind him walked his wife, with downcast features and faltering steps,
and at her back hung her little infant, suspended in a bag or pouch of
deer skin, half filled with the soft bog-moss, so much used by Indian
squaws to form the bed--and, indeed, the only covering--of their
children during the first year of their existence. The eyes of the
captive young mother were fixed tearfully on the majestic form of her
husband, who was too proud--perhaps, also, too sad--to turn and meet
her gaze, while the eyes of his foes were upon him to detect his
slightest weakness. Even the low wailing cry of her child was unheeded
by this broken hearted wife in that sad hour; for she well knew the
customs of Indian warfare, and she had no hope for the life of her
warrior, even if her own should be spared.
Henrich gazed on the little group in pity; for be instinctively read
their story, and their coming fate, in their countenances, and in the
cruel glances that fell on them from their guards. He looked at
Jyanough; and in his expressive features he saw a fell confirmation of
his worst fears.
'They will sacrifice them to Maatche-Mahneto in the vain hope of
lengthening Terah's life,' he softly whispered in Henrich's ear. 'Let
us go back and seek Oriana. Perhaps, for her sake, Tisquantum may ask
the lives of the squaw and her young child; and, as Chingook's honored
guest, they would be granted to him; but there is no hope for the
warrior. His blood will surely be shed to appease Maatche-Mahneto, and
to atone for the death of several of the Cree braves who have fallen
this year by the hands of the Stone tribe.'
Hastily Henrich turned; and, followed by Jyanough, took a by-path well
known to them, and entered the village before the arrival of the
warriors and their unhappy prisoners. A brief explanation was
sufficient to enlist all the kindly feelings, and all the Christian
spirit, of Oriana in favor of their project; and she lost no time in
seeking her father, who had again repaired to Terah's hut, to
superintend the costly sacrifice that was being offered in his behalf.
She found him exulting in a partial improvement in his patient, whose
senses had again returned with a brief and deceitful brilliance, and
attributing what he called the aged Pince's recovery to the potency of
his own spells.
This was no time for Oriana to argue with the elated Powow on the
fallacy of his pretensions. She therefore listened patiently to his
boastings; and then, with much feeling and natural eloquence, told him
the cause of her interrupting him at such a moment, and besought him to
exert all his great influence with the Crees, to induce them to spare
the lives of the Stone captives.
Tisquantum listened with attention to her story and her petition, for
he was always gentle to Oriana; but he gave her little hope of that
fell success which her warm young heart desired, and anticipated.
'My child,' he said, 'I will do what you ask, so far as to request that
the woman and child may be placed at your disposal. But the warrior's
life I cannot demand, for it would be an insult to the brave Crees to
suppose that they would suffer an enemy to escape, and tell his tribe
that they were woman-hearted. No, he must die; and, if the soul of his
ancestors dwells in him, he will exult in the opportunity of showing
how even a Stone Indian can meet death.'
Oriana was repulsed, but not defeated, by this reply.
'Nay, my father,' she again began, 'either save all, or let all perish.
Do not take the brave young warrior from his wife and child, and leave
them in poverty and sorrow; but plead for mercy to be shown to him
also--and so may mercy be shown to his conquerors, and to you, his
deliverer, when--'
'Peace, child,' interrupted the Sachem, with more asperity than he
usually showed to Oriana. 'These are the notions you have learned from
your white brother, and I desire not to hear them. Tisquantum knows his
duty. I will demand the lives of the woman and child of whom you speak;
but the warrior must abide his fate. And think you that he would not
scorn to live when honor is gone I Go'--he added more gently, as he saw
the sorrow that dimmed her eye--'go, and tell Jyanough to meet me at
the Sachem's lodge. Terah may yet be saved--this victim comes at s
happy moment, and surely Mahneto demands his life as at offering for
that of the venerable Pince.'
Oriana shuddered at what she saw to be her father's meaning. Once she
would have felt as he did and have believed that their god could be
propitiated by blood and agony. But now she knew that all such cruel
sacrifices were worse than vain; and deeply she regretted her own
inability to bring her countrymen, and especially her own beloved
father, to a knowledge of the Gospel of mercy and peace; and thus save
them from imbruing their hands in the blood of their fellow men, and
thinking that they did good service to the Great Spirit.
She hurried back to her companions, and, weeping, told them of her
partial success. It was all, and more than all, that Jyanough expected;
and he immediately went to meet Tisquantum at the lodge of the Cree
Sachem, Chingook, where he found the war party and their prisoners
assembled. After a few words to Jyanough, Tisquantum commenced a long
speech to his brother Sachem, in which he dilated on the friendship
that subsisted between them, and the joy that he had felt in exercising
his skill for the benefit of the brave and hospitable Crees. He then
spoke of Terah's perilous condition, and his fears that even his powers
had been baffled by the spirit of evil; and that the Pince would yet be
taken from them, unless some offering could be found more precious than
all that were now piled before his dwelling, and only waited for the
auspicious moment to be wrapped inflame, us a sacrifice to the offended
deity who had brought the pestilence. 'And have we not such an offering
here?' he added, pointing to the captive warrior, who stood, with head
erect, awaiting the sentence that he knew would be pronounced. 'Have we
not here a victim, sent by Mahneto himself, at the very moment when
Terah's life seems hanging on a breath? Lead him, then, to the sacred
pile; and as his soul goes forth, the soul of Terah shall revive.
This speech was received with acclamations by the Crees; and already
the warriors were hurrying away their captive, while his wife followed,
as if mechanically, to share her husband's fate. Bat here Tisquantum
interposed, and, in his daughter's name, requested the life of the
woman and her child. His request was readily granted by Chingook; for
of what value was a squaw in the eyes of these Indian braves?
The daughter of our friend and benefactor shall be denied nothing that
she asks,' replied the Cree Chief. 'Take the woman to Oriana's lodge,
and let her be her slave.'
Jyanough approached to lead away the unhappy woman but she turned on
him a look of despairing misery, and, laying her band on her husband's
arm, said quickly, 'I will see my Lincoya die, and then I will follow
you where you will, for Mailah has no home.'
Jyanough did not oppose her, for his heart was touched by her sorrow
and her fortitude; and the captive warrior turned his head, and bent on
her sad countenance one look of tenderness and approbation, that told
how deeply he was sensible of her devotion.
He did not speak--perchance he could not trust his voice in that trying
moment--but he followed his guards, and his eye was again steadfast,
and his step was firm.
Henrich and Oriana waited anxiously for the return of Jyanough: but he
came not; and they almost feared that Tisquantum's request had been too
coldly urged to prove successful. It was a calm autumnal day; and as
the sun rose high in the heavens, his beams were shrouded by heavy
thunder clouds, while a low and distant murmur foretold an approaching
storm, and added to the gloom that weighed heavily on Oriana's spirit.
All the sin and degradation of the faith of her countrymen seemed to
strike upon her mind with a force hitherto unknown, and to bow her down
in shame and sadness. Even to Henrich--to her loved Christian friend
and teacher--she could not now utter her feelings; and when, to divert
her thoughts, and remove her from the village where he knew so cruel a
scene would soon be enacted, he led her towards the forest, she
followed him silently. They seated themselves beneath an overshadowing
tree; and, for some time, no sound broke the oppressive silence save
the soft rustling of the leaves, that seemed to be moved by the spirits
of the air-for no wind was stirring.
Presently a shriek--one single cry of agony--arose from the village:
and all was still again.
'It was a woman's voice!' exclaimed Oriana, in a tone of deep
suffering. 'O, Henrich! they murder the helpless and the innocent; and
my father consents to the deed!'