The Prairie

by James Fenimore Cooper

  CHAPTER XXXII

  And I beseech you, Wrest once the law, to your authority: To do a great right, do a little wrong. --Shakspeare.

  Ishmael awaited long and patiently for the motley train of Hard-Heartto disappear. When his scout reported that the last straggler of theIndians, who had joined their chief so soon as he was at such a distancefrom the encampment as to excite no jealousy by their numbers, had gonebehind the most distant swell of the prairie, he gave forth the order tostrike his tents. The cattle were already in the gears, and the movableswere soon transferred to their usual places in the different vehicles.When all these arrangements were completed, the little wagon, which hadso long been the tenement of Inez, was drawn before the tent, into whichthe insensible body of the kidnapper had been borne, and preparationswere evidently made for the reception of another prisoner. Then it was,as Abiram appeared, pale, terrified, and tottering beneath a loadof detected guilt, that the younger members of the family were firstapprised that he still belonged to the class of the living. A generaland superstitious impression had spread among them, that his crime hadbeen visited by a terrible retribution from Heaven; and they now gazedat him, as at a being who belonged rather to another world, than as amortal, who, like themselves, had still to endure the last agony beforethe great link of human existence could be broken. The criminal himselfappeared to be in a state, in which the most sensitive and startlingterror was singularly combined with total physical apathy. Thetruth was, that while his person had been numbed by the shock, hissusceptibility to apprehension kept his agitated mind in unrelieveddistress. When he found himself in the open air, he looked about him,in order to gather, if possible, some evidences of his future fate, fromthe countenances of those gathered round. Seeing every where grave butcomposed features, and meeting in no eye any expression that threatenedimmediate violence, the miserable man began to revive; and, by the timehe was seated in the wagon, his artful faculties were beginning to plotthe expedients of parrying the just resentment of his kinsmen, or, ifthese should fail him, the means of escaping from a punishment that hisforebodings told him would be terrible.

  Throughout the whole of these preparations Ishmael rarely spoke. Agesture, or a glance of the eye, served to indicate his pleasure tohis sons, and with these simple methods of communication, all partiesappeared content. When the signal was made to proceed, the squatterthrew his rifle into the hollow of his arm, and his axe across hisshoulder, taking the lead as usual. Esther buried herself in the wagonwhich contained her daughters; the young men took their customary placesamong the cattle, or nigh the teams, and the whole proceeded, at theirordinary, dull, but unremitted gait.

  For the first time, in many a day, the squatter turned his back towardsthe setting sun. The route he held was in the direction of the settledcountry, and the manner in which he moved sufficed to tell his children,who had learned to read their father's determinations in his mien, thattheir journey on the prairie was shortly to have an end. Still nothingelse transpired for hours, that might denote the existence of anysudden, or violent, revolution in the purposes or feelings of Ishmael.During all that time he marched alone, keeping a few hundred rods infront of his teams, seldom giving any sign of extraordinary excitement.Once or twice, indeed, his huge figure was seen standing on the summitof some distant swell, with the head bent towards the earth, as heleaned on his rifle; but then these moments of intense thought wererare, and of short continuance. The train had long thrown its shadowstowards the east, before any material alteration was made in thedisposition of their march. Water-courses were waded, plains werepassed, and rolling ascents risen and descended, without producing thesmallest change. Long practised in the difficulties of that peculiarspecies of travelling in which he was engaged, the squatter avoidedthe more impracticable obstacles of their route by a sort of instinct,invariably inclining to the right or left in season, as the formation ofthe land, the presence of trees, or the signs of rivers forewarned himof the necessity of such movements.

  At length the hour arrived when charity to man and beast required atemporary suspension of labour. Ishmael chose the required spot with hiscustomary sagacity. The regular formation of the country, such as ithas been described in the earlier pages of our book, had long beeninterrupted by a more unequal and broken surface. There were, it istrue, in general, the same wide and empty wastes, the same rich andextensive bottoms, and that wild and singular combination of swellingfields and of nakedness, which gives that region the appearance ofan ancient country, incomprehensibly stripped of its people and theirdwellings. But these distinguishing features of the rolling prairies hadlong been interrupted by irregular hillocks, occasional masses of rock,and broad belts of forest.

  Ishmael chose a spring, that broke out of the base of a rock some fortyor fifty feet in elevation, as a place well suited to the wants of hisherds. The water moistened a small swale that lay beneath the spot,which yielded, in return for the fecund gift, a scanty growth of grass.A solitary willow had taken root in the alluvion, and profiting by itsexclusive possession of the soil, the tree had sent up its stem farabove the crest of the adjacent rock, whose peaked summit had oncebeen shadowed by its branches. But its loveliness had gone with themysterious principle of life. As if in mockery of the meagre show ofverdure that the spot exhibited, it remained a noble and solemn monumentof former fertility. The larger, ragged, and fantastic branches stillobtruded themselves abroad, while the white and hoary trunk stood nakedand tempest-riven. Not a leaf, nor a sign of vegetation, was to be seenabout it. In all things it proclaimed the frailty of existence, and thefulfilment of time.

  Here Ishmael, after making the customary signal for the train toapproach, threw his vast frame upon the earth, and seemed to muse on thedeep responsibility of his present situation. His sons were not long inarriving; for the cattle no sooner scented the food and water than theyquickened their pace, and then succeeded the usual bustle and avocationsof a halt.

  The impression made by the scene of that morning was not so deep, orlasting, on the children of Ishmael and Esther, as to induce them toforget the wants of nature. But while the sons were searching amongtheir stores, for something substantial to appease their hunger, and theyounger fry were wrangling about their simple dishes, the parents of theunnurtured family were differently employed.

  When the squatter saw that all, even to the reviving Abiram, were busyin administering to their appetites, he gave his downcast partner aglance of his eye, and withdrew towards a distant roll of the land,which bounded the view towards the east. The meeting of the pair, inthis naked spot, was like an interview held above the grave of theirmurdered son. Ishmael signed to his wife to take a seat beside him on afragment of rock, and then followed a space, during which neither seemeddisposed to speak.

  "We have journeyed together long, through good and bad," Ishmael atlength commenced: "much have we had to try us, and some bitter cups havewe been made to swallow, my woman; but nothing like this has ever beforelain in my path."

  "It is a heavy cross for a poor, misguided, and sinful woman to bear!"returned Esther, bowing her head to her knees, and partly concealing herface in her dress. "A heavy and a burdensome weight is this to be laidupon the shoulders of a sister and a mother!"

  "Ay; therein lies the hardship of the case. I had brought my mind to thepunishment of that houseless trapper, with no great strivings, forthe man had done me few favours, and God forgive me if I suspected himwrongfully of much evil! This is, however, bringing shame in at one doorof my cabin, in order to drive it out at the other. But shall a son ofmine be murdered, and he who did it go at large?--the boy would neverrest!"

  "Oh, Ishmael, we pushed the matter far. Had little been said, who wouldhave been the wiser? Our consciences might then have been quiet."

  "Eest'er," said the husband, turning on her a reproachful but still adull regard, "the hour has been, my woman, when you thought another handhad do
ne this wickedness."

  "I did, I did the Lord gave me the feeling, as a punishment for my sins!but his mercy was not slow in lifting the veil; I looked into the book,Ishmael, and there I found the words of comfort."

  "Have you that book at hand, woman; it may happen to advise in such adreary business."

  Esther fumbled in her pocket, and was not long in producing the fragmentof a Bible, which had been thumbed and smoke-dried till the print wasnearly illegible. It was the only article, in the nature of a book,that was to be found among the chattels of the squatter, and it had beenpreserved by his wife, as a melancholy relic of more prosperous, andpossibly of more innocent, days. She had long been in the habit ofresorting to it, under the pressure of such circumstances as werepalpably beyond human redress, though her spirit and resolution rarelyneeded support under those that admitted of reparation through any ofthe ordinary means of reprisal. In this manner Esther had made a sortof convenient ally of the word of God; rarely troubling it for counsel,however, except when her own incompetency to avert an evil was tooapparent to be disputed. We shall leave casuists to determine howfar she resembled any other believers in this particular, and proceeddirectly with the matter before us.

  "There are many awful passages in these pages, Ishmael," she said, whenthe volume was opened, and the leaves were slowly turning under herfinger, "and some there ar' that teach the rules of punishment."

  Her husband made a gesture for her to find one of those brief rules ofconduct, which have been received among all Christian nations as thedirect mandates of the Creator, and which have been found so just, thateven they, who deny their high authority, admit their wisdom. Ishmaellistened with grave attention, as his companion read all those verses,which her memory suggested, and which were thought applicable to thesituation in which they found themselves. He made her show him thewords, which he regarded with a sort of strange reverence. A resolutiononce taken was usually irrevocable, in one who was moved with so muchdifficulty. He put his hand upon the book, and closed the pages himself,as much as to apprise his wife that he was satisfied. Esther, who sowell knew his character, trembled at the action, and casting a glance athis steady eye, she said--

  "And yet, Ishmael, my blood, and the blood of my children, is in hisveins, cannot mercy be shown?"

  "Woman," he answered sternly, "when we believed that miserable oldtrapper had done this deed, nothing was said of mercy!"

  Esther made no reply, but folding her arms upon her breast, she satsilent and thoughtful for many minutes. Then she once more turned heranxious gaze upon the countenance of her husband, where she found allpassion and care apparently buried in the coldest apathy. Satisfied now,that the fate of her brother was sealed, and possibly conscious how wellhe merited the punishment that was meditated, she no longer thoughtof mediation. No more words passed between them. Their eyes met for aninstant, and then both arose and walked in profound silence towards theencampment.

  The squatter found his children expecting his return in the usuallistless manner with which they awaited all coming events. The cattlewere already herded, and the horses in their gears, in readiness toproceed, so soon as he should indicate that such was his pleasure. Thechildren were already in their proper vehicle, and, in short, nothingdelayed the departure but the absence of the parents of the wild brood.

  "Abner," said the father, with the deliberation with which all hisproceedings were characterised, "take the brother of your mother fromthe wagon, and let him stand on the 'arth."

  Abiram issued from his place of concealment, trembling, it is true, butfar from destitute of hopes, as to his final success in appeasing thejust resentment of his kinsman. After throwing a glance around him, withthe vain wish of finding a single countenance in which he might detecta solitary gleam of sympathy, he endeavoured to smother thoseapprehensions, that were by this time reviving in their originalviolence, by forcing a sort of friendly communication between himselfand the squatter--

  "The beasts are getting jaded, brother," he said, "and as we have madeso good a march already, is it not time to camp. To my eye you may gofar, before a better place than this is found to pass the night in."

  "Tis well you like it. Your tarry here ar' likely to be long. My sons,draw nigh and listen. Abiram White," he added, lifting his cap, andspeaking with a solemnity and steadiness, that rendered even his dullmien imposing, "you have slain my first-born, and according to the lawsof God and man must you die!"

  The kidnapper started at this terrible and sudden sentence, with theterror that one would exhibit who unexpectedly found himself in thegrasp of a monster, from whose power there was no retreat. Althoughfilled with the most serious forebodings of what might be his lot, hiscourage had not been equal to look his danger in the face, and with thedeceitful consolation, with which timid tempers are apt to conceal theirdesperate condition from themselves, he had rather courted a treacherousrelief in his cunning, than prepared himself for the worst.

  "Die!" he repeated, in a voice that scarcely issued from his chest; "aman is surely safe among his kinsmen!"

  "So thought my boy," returned the squatter, motioning for the team, thatcontained his wife and the girls, to proceed, as he very coolly examinedthe priming of his piece. "By the rifle did you destroy my son; it isfit and just that you meet your end by the same weapon."

  Abiram stared about him with a gaze that bespoke an unsettled reason. Heeven laughed, as if he would not only persuade himself but others thatwhat he heard was some pleasantry, intended to try his nerves. Butnowhere did his frightful merriment meet with an answering echo. Allaround was solemn and still. The visages of his nephews were excited,but cold towards him, and that of his former confederate frightfullydetermined. This very steadiness of mien was a thousand times morealarming and hopeless than any violence could have proved. The lattermight possibly have touched his spirit and awakened resistance, but theformer threw him entirely on the feeble resources of himself.

  "Brother," he said, in a hurried, unnatural whisper, "did I hear you?"

  "My words are plain, Abiram White: thou hast done murder, and for thesame must thou die!"

  "Esther! sister, sister, will you leave me! Oh sister! do you hear mycall?"

  "I hear one speak from the grave!" returned the husky tones of Esther,as the wagon passed the spot where the criminal stood. "It is the voiceof my firstborn, calling aloud for justice! God have mercy, God havemercy, on your soul!"

  The team slowly pursued its route, and the deserted Abiram now foundhimself deprived of the smallest vestige of hope. Still he could notsummon fortitude to meet his death, and had not his limbs refused to aidhim, he would yet have attempted to fly. Then, by a sudden revolutionfrom hope to utter despair, he fell upon his knees, and commenced aprayer, in which cries for mercy to God and to his kinsman were wildlyand blasphemously mingled. The sons of Ishmael turned away in horrorat the disgusting spectacle, and even the stern nature of the squatterbegan to bend before so abject misery.

  "May that, which you ask of Him, be granted," he said; "but a father cannever forget a murdered child."

  He was answered by the most humble appeals for time. A week, a day, anhour, were each implored, with an earnestness commensurate to the valuethey receive, when a whole life is compressed into their short duration.The squatter was troubled, and at length he yielded in part to thepetitions of the criminal. His final purpose was not altered, though hechanged the means. "Abner," he said, "mount the rock, and look on everyside, that we may be sure none are nigh."

  While his nephew was obeying this order, gleams of reviving hope wereseen shooting across the quivering features of the kidnapper. The reportwas favourable, nothing having life, the retiring teams excepted, wasto be seen. A messenger was, however, coming from the latter, in greatapparent haste. Ishmael awaited its arrival. He received from the handsof one of his wondering and frighted girls a fragment of that book,which Esther had preserved with so much care. The squatter beckoned thechild away, and placed the leaves in the hands of the
criminal.

  "Eest'er has sent you this," he said, "that, in your last moments, youmay remember God."

  "Bless her, bless her! a good and kind sister has she been to me. Buttime must be given, that I may read; time, my brother, time!"

  "Time shall not be wanting. You shall be your own executioner, and thismiserable office shall pass away from my hands."

  Ishmael proceeded to put his new resolution in force. The immediateapprehensions of the kidnapper were quieted, by an assurance thathe might yet live for days, though his punishment was inevitable. Areprieve, to one abject and wretched as Abiram, temporarily producedthe same effects as a pardon. He was even foremost in assisting in theappalling arrangements, and of all the actors, in that solemn tragedy,his voice alone was facetious and jocular.

  A thin shelf of the rock projected beneath one of the ragged arms of thewillow. It was many feet from the ground, and admirably adapted to thepurpose which, in fact, its appearance had suggested. On this littleplatform the criminal was placed, his arms bound at the elbows behindhis back, beyond the possibility of liberation, with a proper cordleading from his neck to the limb of the tree. The latter was so placed,that when suspended the body could find no foot-hold. The fragmentof the Bible was placed in his hands, and he was left to seek hisconsolation as he might from its pages.

  "And now, Abiram White," said the squatter, when his sons had descendedfrom completing this arrangement, "I give you a last and solemn asking.Death is before you in two shapes. With this rifle can your misery becut short, or by that cord, sooner or later, must you meet your end."

  "Let me yet live! Oh, Ishmael, you know not how sweet life is, when thelast moment draws so nigh!"

  "'Tis done," said the squatter, motioning for his assistants to followthe herds and teams. "And now, miserable man, that it may prove aconsolation to your end, I forgive you my wrongs, and leave you to yourGod."

  Ishmael turned and pursued his way across the plain, at his ordinarysluggish and ponderous gait. Though his head was bent a little towardsthe earth, his inactive mind did not prompt him to cast a look behind.Once, indeed, he thought he heard his name called, in tones that were alittle smothered, but they failed to make him pause.

  At the spot where he and Esther had conferred, he reached the boundaryof the visible horizon from the rock. Here he stopped, and ventured aglance in the direction of the place he had just quitted. The sun wasnear dipping into the plains beyond, and its last rays lighted the nakedbranches of the willow. He saw the ragged outline of the whole drawnagainst the glowing heavens, and he even traced the still upright formof the being he had left to his misery. Turning the roll of the swell,he proceeded with the feelings of one, who had been suddenly andviolently separated from a recent confederate, for ever.

  Within a mile, the squatter overtook his teams. His sons had found aplace suited to the encampment for the night, and merely awaited hisapproach to confirm their choice. Few words were necessary to expresshis acquiescence. Every thing passed in a silence more general andremarkable than ever. The chidings of Esther were not heard among heryoung, or if heard, they were more in the tones of softened admonition,than in her usual, upbraiding, key.

  No questions nor explanations passed between the husband and his wife.It was only as the latter was about to withdraw among her children, forthe night, that the former saw her taking a furtive look at the panof his rifle. Ishmael bade his sons seek their rest, announcing hisintention to look to the safety of the camp in person. When all wasstill, he walked out upon the prairie, with a sort of sensation that hefound his breathing among the tents too straitened. The night was welladapted to heighten the feelings, which had been created by the eventsof the day.

  The wind had risen with the moon, and it was occasionally sweeping overthe plain, in a manner that made it not difficult for the sentinelto imagine strange and unearthly sounds were mingling in the blasts.Yielding to the extraordinary impulses of which he was the subject, hecast a glance around, to see that all were slumbering in security, andthen he strayed towards the swell of land already mentioned. Here thesquatter found himself at a point that commanded a view to the east andto the west. Light fleecy clouds were driving before the moon, whichwas cold and watery though there were moments, when its placid rays wereshed from clear blue fields, seeming to soften objects to its own mildloveliness.

  For the first time, in a life of so much wild adventure, Ishmael felt akeen sense of solitude. The naked prairies began to assume the forms ofillimitable and dreary wastes and the rushing of the wind sounded likethe whisperings of the dead. It was not long before he thought a shriekwas borne past him on a blast. It did not sound like a call from earthbut it swept frightfully through the upper air mingled with the hoarseaccompaniment of the wind. The teeth of the squatter were compressed,and his huge hand grasped the rifle, as if it would crush the metal.Then came a lull, a fresher blast, and a cry of horror that seemed tohave been uttered at the very portals of his ears. A sort of echoburst involuntarily from his own lips, as men shout under unnaturalexcitement, and throwing his rifle across his shoulder he proceededtowards the rock with the strides of a giant.

  It was not often that the blood of Ishmael moved at the rate with whichthe fluid circulates in the veins of ordinary men; but now he felt itready to gush from every pore in his body. The animal was aroused, inhis most latent energies. Ever as he advanced he heard those shrieks,which sometimes seemed ringing among the clouds, and sometimes passedso nigh, as to appear to brush the earth. At length there came a cry, inwhich there could be no delusion, or to which the imagination could lendno horror. It appeared to fill each cranny of the air, as the visiblehorizon is often charged to fulness by one dazzling flash of theelectric fluid. The name of God was distinctly audible, but it wasawfully and blasphemously blended with sounds that may not be repeated.The squatter stopped, and for a moment he covered his ears with hishands. When he withdrew the latter, a low and husky voice at his elbowasked in smothered tones--

  "Ishmael, my man, heard ye nothing?"

  "Hist," returned the husband, laying a powerful arm on Esther, withoutmanifesting the smallest surprise at the unlooked-for presence of hiswife. "Hist, woman! if you have the fear of Heaven, be still!"

  A profound silence succeeded. Though the wind rose and fell as before,its rushing was no longer mingled with those fearful cries. The soundswere imposing and solemn, but it was the solemnity and majesty ofnature.

  "Let us go on," said Esther; "all is hushed."

  "Woman, what has brought you here?" demanded her husband, whose bloodhad returned into its former channels, and whose thoughts had alreadylost a portion of their excitement.

  "Ishmael, he murdered our first-born; but it is not meet that the son ofmy mother should lie upon the ground, like the carrion of a dog!"

  "Follow," returned the squatter, again grasping his rifle, and stridingtowards the rock. The distance was still considerable; and theirapproach, as they drew nigh the place of execution, was moderated byawe. Many minutes had passed, before they reached a spot where theymight distinguish the outlines of the dusky objects.

  "Where have you put the body?" whispered Esther. "See, here are pick andspade, that a brother of mine may sleep in the bosom of the earth!"

  The moon broke from behind a mass of clouds, and the eye of the womanwas enabled to follow the finger of Ishmael. It pointed to a human formswinging in the wind, beneath the ragged and shining arm of the willow.Esther bent her head and veiled her eyes from the sight. But Ishmaeldrew nigher, and long contemplated his work in awe, though not incompunction. The leaves of the sacred book were scattered on the ground,and even a fragment of the shelf had been displaced by the kidnapperin his agony. But all was now in the stillness of death. The grim andconvulsed countenance of the victim was at times brought full into thelight of the moon, and again as the wind lulled, the fatal rope drew adark line across its bright disk. The squatter raised his rifle, withextreme care, and fired. The cord was cut and the body came lumbering
tothe earth a heavy and insensible mass.

  Until now Esther had not moved nor spoken. But her hand was not slowto assist in the labour of the hour. The grave was soon dug. It wasinstantly made to receive its miserable tenant. As the lifeless formdescended, Esther, who sustained the head, looked up into the face ofher husband with an expression of anguish, and said--

  "Ishmael, my man, it is very terrible! I cannot kiss the corpse of myfather's child!"

  The squatter laid his broad hand on the bosom of the dead, and said--

  "Abiram White, we all have need of mercy; from my soul do I forgive you!May God in Heaven have pity on your sins!"

  The woman bowed her face and imprinted her lips long and fervently onthe pallid forehead of her brother. After this came the falling clodsand all the solemn sounds of filling a grave. Esther lingered on herknees, and Ishmael stood uncovered while the woman muttered a prayer.All was then finished.

  On the following morning the teams and herds of the squatter were seenpursuing their course towards the settlements. As they approached theconfines of society the train was blended among a thousand others.Though some of the numerous descendants of this peculiar pair werereclaimed from their lawless and semi-barbarous lives, the principals ofthe family, themselves, were never heard of more.