by Hervey Keyes
CHAPTER VIII.
The landscape around the chief's wigwam was sublime. First his littlefield of corn clustering with golden ears; beyond, the beautiful tallforest trees formed arches overhead and locked their boughs in socialharmony. A winding path led from the wigwam to the grove, bordered withwild roses, which must have appeared beautiful and gay in summer, butnow began to droop and fade like the leaves of the surrounding forest.Esock Mayall wandered along this path of faded flowers to the edge ofthe dark overgrown forest, and stood for a time viewing the large,massive branches that had been torn from their parent trees by the furyof the wind and rain the previous day. The splinters of every form layscattered where the currents of electricity in their fearful descent hadrent in fragments some giant of the forest, torn out its oaken heart andscattered its ribs and limbs upon the forest floor.
After viewing the wonders of Nature, Esock Mayall was returning to thewigwam along the path of flowers, when that wood-nymph, the chief'sdaughter, appeared before him, gentle as the ring-dove.
And the glory of youth clung around her, I felt her ambrosial breath on my cheek Like the scent and perfume of wild roses.
She seemed to appear in all the beauty of innocence. Esock Mayall askedher who planted those roses.
"I planted them," said the maiden, "to perfume my path and wanton in thesummer air around me whilst I walked to yonder grove in summer days, fortwelve long years, to hear the evening and morning song of birds whichcharmed me to the grove; and then again I love the solitary woods, thesylvan shade. I learned, when but a child, to wander in yon shady groveto hear the squirrels chirp and bark."
Esock Mayall wished her to inform him how and when she first came tolive in this overgrown forest. She said, "I could not tell, but when Iwas a child I lived in a cottage on a lake shore, where one could sit inits vine-clad porch and look out upon the windings of its beautifulshore and hear the fury of the waves amid the fearful storm. The Indianscame one sunny day, when I was sitting under the arbor over the door,and killed my mother, robbed the house, and bore me away in their arms.The next morning one of the Indians took me on his back, and in three orfour days they reached this place, and I was adopted into the chief'sfamily. My mother used me kindly whilst she lived. After ten years shesickened and died. Since that time I have lived with the chief, myfather. I have planted these flowers in rows to imitate the shores ofthe lake where I was born. That long half-moon curve you see was a wide,open bay, and that short turn yonder was a bluff of rocks."
Esock Mayall listened with admiration to her story, and then replied,"Would you go with me and walk the shores of that lake once more?"
That question seemed a spell that chained her tongue, whilst the crimsonflush faded from her cheek. In a few moments her young blood began tocourse freely in her veins, and the flush of roses warmed her lovelycheeks. She raised her eyes and looked Esock Mayall full in the face,and appeared as lovely as a dream.
"Do you know where that lake is situated? My captors have always refusedto inform me. If you do, I will go with you cheerfully, and walk oncemore upon its lovely shores. Twelve long years, in the dreams ofmidnight, I have wandered on its shores, and its coves and bays haveappeared to me with the white swan with snowy sail and air of pridefloating upon its mirror waves; but there is a bitter mingled with thesweet; in those dreams I see my mother pale in death, slain by mycaptor's hands, and oh, my father, who was absent from his home, whereis he? When rosy morn blushed on the concave of the skies I always foundmyself within the wigwam's prison-walls."
Esock Mayall told her frankly that he neither knew the name or localityof the lake she described, but added, "If you would consent to be mywife and go with me to my forest home, I will endeavor to learn fromyour captors the name and locality, and take you back to the home ofyour childhood, once more to ramble on the beautiful shores where youhad roamed in childhood's sunny days."
The maiden then replied that she would consult with her father andanswer his request to-morrow.
To-morrow came. The chief appeared gloomy and thoughtful. He well knewthe undaunted courage, the sure and steady aim of the Mayalls to guidethe bullet in its airy track, the power of their strong arms in wieldingthe tomahawk in battle strife. He had no reason to fear the protectionof his daughter, but the thought of parting with the sunny face of onehe had ever idolized, whom he had carried for more than a hundred mileson his back through the wilderness when she was a child, because heloved her snowy face and flowing hair--this thought pained him. Longyears he had dressed her in robes of beaver during the winter, and madeher bed of down; the fawn had yielded her skin to clothe her naked feet,and the brightest wampum had encircled her waist, the most costly jewelshad ever sparkled in her ears, and he had employed the most skillful ofhis race to teach her to border her flowing dress in summer with thequills of the porcupine. He had hunted weeks to capture the swan to deckher hat with snowy plumes to wave in open air and clothe her queenlyneck.
"I have acted the part of a kind father," thought he, "and if I give herhand to young Mayall, who would cheer my wigwam in sickness, and smooththe winter of my declining years? Who would ring my funeral knell, andplant the wild rose upon my lonely grave?" No tears flowed to soothe histroubled brain; there was no wanton moisture in his eye. "And then,again, if I should deny my daughter's request I fear the consequences.Mayall had the shrewdness and courage to take her from me, and then,again, I have taken her from her parents and her home, and she might beleft unprotected when I am dead and gone."
The chief passed a sleepless night, but rose bright and cheerful in themorning, and informed his daughter, if she chose to leave his wigwam forthat of her lover, she might go, with his blessings upon her youthfulhead; but one thing he must insist upon, in order to preserve harmony,that the tribe that lived in the surrounding forest should be invited tothe wedding, and the whole tribe should join in the marriage dance,according to the ancient customs of the Indian tribes.
Young Mayall was informed of the Indian chief's decision. He walkedboldly up to the chief, who was seated in his wigwam, and took hisdaughter by the hand, and said, "When I have received from you the handof your daughter, and have conformed to the usages of your tribe in allthings, we want you to go with us to our forest home, and we willprovide for you in old age in the same kind manner you have provided foryour daughter. You shall have your choice in the dainty pieces ofvenison and wild fowls, and find protection under the roof of ourcottage home.
'There I'll sit by my bride, where the rushes are green, While the sun weaveth gold o'er the robes of my queen.'"
In answer to some questions with regard to the home of her childhood, byEsock Mayall, she related the following story of her journey to thegreat Falls of Niagara, which the chief said would enable me to keep mycourse through dark forests from the Oneida Lake to the great lakes andrivers towards the setting sun:
"I started on a journey to the great Falls of Niagara, with my fatherand mother, to witness the voluntary sacrifice of a young Indian maidento the great Spirit of the Falls, or Naiad God of the Water. We pursuedour journey through beautiful forests, over wood-crowned hills, fordingthe valley streams without interruption, until the second day, nearsunset, we came in sight of a beautiful lake, whose surface
'Seemed so placid, smooth and fair, That Naiad might look on to plait her hair.'
"We traced the shores a short distance, coming to a little crystalstream, the waters of which were cool and refreshing. We concluded toencamp near this stream, that spun its silver thread to the lake from adark ravine over which the branching tree-tops leaned. We followed thestream a short distance, and built our camp-fire under shelter of alarge branching tree that stood on the bank of the ravine. Near thistree a cool fountain gushed from a large rock, and made music for us asit dashed over its stony bed to join the stream below. Taking intoconsideration all the surroundings, it was a grand place for a lover ofscenery and solitude. There we ate our evening meal, and, after slakingour thir
st at the cooling fountain that flowed from the rock, laid downto rest our weary limbs by our camp-fire, that blazed up and illuminatedthe forest for several rods around, making the forest look grand, withits branches interlocked in social harmony, fanned by the gentle breezefrom the lake that whispered through the tree-tops, and sung of passingtime, like the AEolian harp that hung upon the willows along the streamsof Babylon.
"All nature seemed to invite us to repose, and the waters of Lethe sweptover us. As the Angel of Dreams threw his mantle over me, through thisgauzy mantle I seemed to trace the Queen of the Falls from earth, withher guardian angels, to the fields of Paradise, which appeared in mydream as described by the Jesuit that used to come and preach to thetribe I lived with, and give me books, teach me to read them, and teachme etiquette, such as used by the English and French. All of a sudden Ithought the bolts of hell had burst asunder, and the devil incarnatewalked again over earth and sea--that Gabriel had sounded his trumpetfor all to assemble at the judgment hall on the borders of two worlds.
"Slowly awaking to consciousness, I cast my eyes towards the big rock. Ifelt the rain pattering down in my face from the tree-tops, and, lo!there I saw two eyes that looked to me like two orbs swimming in liquidfire, which frightened me to such a degree that I attempted to screamfor mercy.
"I seemed to be paralyzed. In this awful moment of fear, the GreatSpirit sent an arrow of electric fire from the darkest pavilion of thestorm-cloud, selected from the quiver of the Eternal Jehovah, down intothe top of a mighty oak that leaned over the dark ravine a few rodsabove our camping ground, which tore off the top and splintered itsmassive trunk to the ground. The awful crash frightened me nearly out ofmy wits. I screamed with all the power of voice I possessed, for Ithought the ebon paw of Satan was upon me. The panther then set up themost unearthly scream I had ever heard leaped from the rook, and seemedto make the forest jar at every scream, until he was far away on thelake shore. The clap of thunder awoke my father and mother. The chief,hearing the screams of the panther, seized his weapons of war and triedin vain to penetrate the surrounding gloom, for the blackness of thestorm-cloud made the forest a dungeon, occasionally illuminated byflashes of electric fire from the arching clouds over our heads, whichcould not be penetrated by mortal eye. The chief again gathered up thefew burning brands that remained, and piled high his fuel. This onlyserved to light a few rods from the fire, whilst all beyond seemed blackas the regions of darkness. There was no more sleep during the night.
"Morning dawned. The storm-cloud passed away, and we resumed our journeywith cautious and timid steps toward the place of our destination,arriving late in the afternoon at the Upper Falls, on the Genesee, wherethe waters dashed from rock to rock, until it reached the valley belowthe Falls. We traced the river bank three or four miles, to Gardow, avillage on the west bank of the Genesee River, where the roar of theUpper Falls could be distinctly heard, where we were received with greatcordiality, and conducted to comfortable lodgings, and furnished withall that nature required for comfort. After one day's rest we againstarted for the great Falls of Niagara, with a part of the Genesee tribeof Indians that resided at Gardow. We took the most direct Indian paththat led to Niagara, which led us over hills crowned with forests, andthrough dark wooded valleys, reaching the Falls about sunset the secondday, and encamped on the banks of that mighty rushing river, with thenumerous throng that had reached their place of destination before us.
"We all encamped like a family of friends, upon the banks of a riverthat was destined to divide a kingdom from a republic. Early the nextmorning preparations were made for offering a human being as a sacrificeto the Great Spirit that created the earth and the heavens, and allthings contained therein. The most beautiful and gifted young Indianmaiden, just blooming into womanhood, was chosen by the priests andprophets of that ancient tribe, to appease the anger of the gods, andbear a message from that tribe to their friends that had gone over theRiver of Death before them, to the land of the olive and the vine in theclear Southwest, known only to the brave and just, where the wild doeand her fawn feed on flowers, where the flowers wear their everlastingbloom, and the grass is greener and more luxuriant than was ever seen,and softer than the Persian silk. In that beautiful land mortals put onthe garments of immortality. When the young maiden was informed that shewas chosen for the sacrifice, she came forward with a smile upon hercountenance, adorned in all the glory of the Indian costume, as a brideadorned for her husband, and entered the arena. The Indian priest thenstepped forward and poured upon her head the oil of venison, and placeda crown of roses, intermixed with swans-down, to give it a snowy-whiteappearance, and crowned her, in the name of the tribe, Queen of Niagara.
"A more beautiful or graceful being could not be found to offer up herlife for her friends. The whole tribe then sang and shouted the gloriesof their youthful queen, each one handing her some little token ofremembrance to their friends in the spirit world, and kissed her hand.After a short time had been allowed her to receive the homage due anearthly queen, two young Indian warriors came forward, one taking her bythe right hand and the other by the left, and led her to the shore ofthe river, followed by twelve young Indian girls.
"Moored on the sandy shore above the Falls was a little white tiny boat,just large enough for one person, loaded with ripe fruits andfresh-blown roses. In this beautiful boat, surrounded by the odor ofripe fruit and perfume of roses that wantoned in the surrounding air,the young warrior placed her, put a paddle in their young queen's handjust as the sun reached the meridian, and darted his rays from hiseternal quiver upon the waters of Niagara, and the young warriors criedover the river, at the same time pushing the boat from the shore, whenthe young queen applied the paddle with all her might and main, untilshe reached the middle of the river above the Falls, every Indian, youngand old, shouting and singing the glories of their brave queen.
"The moment she reached the middle of the river she turned the bow ofher little boat towards the Falls, then applying the paddle with forcethe boat shot down the rapid current with the speed of an arrow, whilsttwo rainbows faintly spanned the boiling flood. Down, down among thecaverned rocks and foaming waters went the beautiful form, whilst herguardian angels received her spirit and soared above the rainbow's arch,up through the concave of the skies to life eternal.
"We tarried until the chariots of the sun rolled down the western sky.The full moon in her diamond car rose, and threw her pale light over thefoaming waters of Niagara. The whole tribe then assembled on the highrooks below the Falls, and the Indians declared by the Eternal that theycould see troops of fairies waltzing around their departed queen on theglassy waters of the Falls, clothed in all the splendors of the rainbow,chanting the glories of their queen. And here upon the rocky altar theybuilt their night-fires to light the spirit of their queen and herguardian angels to the Elysian Fields of Paradise on the shores of lifeeternal. And here we join the American poets in their majestic song oftime:
'Flow on forever, in thy glorious robe Of terror and of beauty! God hath set His rainbow on thy forehead, and the cloud Mantles around thy feet, And He doth give The voice of thunder power to speak of Him Eternally, bidding the lip of man Keep silence, and upon the rocky altar pour Incense of awe-stricken praise.'
"The next morning we started for our home near the shores of OneidaLake, which we reached without being molested in our journey. We tracedthe flowery banks of babbling brooks, walked beneath the grand arches ofbeautiful forests made melodious by the songsters of the grove, but Icould not forget the terrible scenes I had witnessed at Niagara."