CHAPTER XXXVIII.
The stillness of death pervaded the great lodge of the Oneidas; andyet it was not vacant. But Black Eagle sat in the outer chamber alone.With no eye to see him--with none to mark the traces of those emotionswhich the Indian so carefully conceals from observation, he gave way,in a degree at least, to feelings which, however sternly hidden fromothers, wrought powerfully in his own heart. His bright blue andscarlet apparel, feathers and belt, medals and armlets, were thrownaside; and, with his head bowed, his face full of gloomy sadness, andall the strong muscles of his finely-proportioned figure relaxed, hesat like an exquisite figure of grief sculptured in porphyry. No tear,indeed, bedewed his eyelids; no sigh escaped his lips; but the veryattitude bespoke his sorrow, and there was something awfully sad inthe perfect unvarying stillness of his form.
Oh, what a terrible strife was going on within! Grief is ten timesmore terrible to those who concentrate it in the heart, than to thosewho pour it forth upon the wide air.
The door of the lodge opened. He started, and instantly was himselfagain: the head upright, the face clear, the aspect active anddignified.
"Where hast thou been, my child?" asked the chief, gazing on hisdaughter as she entered, with feelings mingled of a thousand strongemotions,--parental love, fond admiration, pity, regret, and manifoldmemories.
"Where thou hast permitted me to go, my father," she answered, with asmile so bland and sweet that a momentary suspicion crossed herfather's mind.
"Thou dost not forget thy promise, my Blossom," he said, in a tone asstern as he ever used to her.
"Oh no, my father," answered Otaitsa; "didst thou ever know me do so?To see him, to be with him in his long captivity--to move the rockbetween us, and to let some light into his dark lodge--I promised thatif thou wouldst let me stay with him even a few hours each day, Iwould do naught, try naught, for his escape. Otaitsa has not a doubletongue for her own father. Is Black Eagle's eye dim, that it cannotsee his child's heart? Her heart is in his hand."
"How fares the boy?" asked her father. "Is there sunshine with him, ora cloud?"
"Sunshine," said Otaitsa, simply. "We sat and talked of death. It mustbe very happy."
The chief gazed at her silently for a few moments, and thenasked--"Does _he_ think so too?"
"He makes _me_ think so," answered the Blossom. "Must it not be happywhere there is no weeping, no slaughter, no parting of dear friendsand lovers; where a Saviour and Redeemer is ever ready to mediate evenfor those who do such deeds as these?"
"The Great Spirit is good," said Black Eagle thoughtfully; "the happyhunting-grounds are ever ready for those who die bravely in battle."
"For those who do good," returned Otaitsa, with a sigh; "for those whospare their enemies, and show mercy to such as obey the voice of Godin their own hearts, and are merciful and forgiving to theirfellow-men."
Black Eagle smiled. "A woman's religion," he said. "Why should Iforgive my enemies? The voice of God you speak of in my heart teachesme to kill them; for, if I did not, they would kill me."
"Not if they were Christians too," said Otaitsa. "The voice of Godtells all men to spare each other, to love each other; and if everyone obeyed it, there would be no such thing as enemies. All would befriends and brethren."
Black Eagle mused, for a moment or two, and then answered, "But there_are_ enemies, and therefore I must kill them."
"That is because men obey the voice of the Evil Spirit, and not thatof the Good," rejoined the Blossom. "Will my father do so? Black Eaglehas the voice of the Good Spirit in his heart. He loves children, heloves his friends, he spares women, and has taught the Oneidas tospare them. All this comes from the voice of the Good Spirit. Will henot listen to it further?"
Her parent remained lost in thought; and, believing that she hadgained something, Otaitsa went on to the point nearest to her heart.
"The Black Eagle is just," she said; "he dispenses equity between manand man. Is it either just, or does it come from the voice of the GoodSpirit, that he should slay one who has done good and not harm? thathe should kill a man for another man's fault? Even if it be permittedto him to slay an enemy, is it permitted to slay a friend? If the lawsof the Oneidas are unjust, if they teach faithlessness to one whotrusted them, if they are contrary to the voice of the Good Spirit, isnot Black Eagle a great chief, who can change them, and teach hischildren better things?"
Her father started up, and waved his hand impatiently.
"No more," he said, "no more. When I hear the voice of the GoodSpirit, and know it, I will obey it. But our laws came from Him, and Iwill abide by the sayings of our fathers."
As he spoke, he strode to the door of the lodge, and gazed forth,while Otaitsa wept in silence. She saw that it was in vain to pleadfurther, and, gliding up to her parent's side, she touched his armreverently with her hand.
"My father," she said, "I give thee back the permission to see him,and I take back my promise. Otaitsa will not deceive her father; butthe appointed hour is drawing on, and she will save her husband if shecan. She has laid no plan with him, she has formed no scheme, she hasnot spoken to him of safety or escape. She has deceived Black Eagle innothing: but now she tells him that she will shrink from nothing, nonot from death itself, to save her brother Walter."
"Koue, Koue! my Blossom," ejaculated the chief, in a tone of profoundmelancholy. "Thou canst do nothing." Then, raising his head suddenly,he added, "Go, my daughter; it is well. If thy mother has made theesoft and tender as a flower, thy father has given thee the courage ofthe eagle. Go in peace; do what thou canst; but thou wilt fail."
"Then will I die!" exclaimed Otaitsa.
And gliding past him, she sought her way through the huts.
The first door she stopped at was partly covered with strangepaintings, in red and blue colours, representing, in rather grotesqueforms, men, and animals, and flowers. She entered, at once, withouthesitation; and found, seated in the dim twilight before a large fire,the old priest who had spoken last at the council of the chiefs in theglen. His ornaments bespoke a chief of high degree; and several deepscars in his long, meagre limbs showed that he had been known in thebattle-field. He did not even look round when the Blossom entered, butstill sat gazing at the flickering flame, without the movement of alimb or feature. Otaitsa seated herself before him, and gazed at hisface in silence, waiting for him to speak.
At the end of not less than five minutes, he turned his head a little,looked at her, and asked--
"What would the Blossom with the Old Cedar-tree?"
"I would take counsel with wisdom," replied the girl. "I would hearthe voice of the warrior who is just, and the great chief who ismerciful. Let him whom my mother reverenced most after her husbandamongst the children of the Stone, speak words of comfort to Otaitsa."
She then, in language which, in rich imagery, and even inpeculiarities of style, had a striking resemblance to the Hebrewwritings, poured forth to him all the circumstances of Walter'scapture, and of their love and plighted faith; and, with the samearguments which we have seen already used, she tried to convince himof the wrong and injustice done to her lover.
The old man listened with the usual appearance of apathy; but thebeautiful girl before him gathered that he was much moved at heart, bythe gradual bending down of his head till his forehead nearly touchedhis knees.
When she ceased, he remained silent for several moments, according totheir custom; and then raised his head, saying,--
"How can the Old Cedar help thee? His boughs are withered, and thesnows of more than seventy winters have bent them down. His roots areshaken in the ground, and the first blast of the tempest will lay himlow. But the law of the Oneidas is in his heart: he cannot change itor pervert it. By thine own saying, it is clear that the Good Spiritwill do nothing to save this youth. The young warrior is the firstthey lay hands on. No means have been found for his escape. Nopale-face has come into the Oneida land, who might be made to take hisplace. All thine efforts to rescue him have been see
ds that bore nofruit. If the Good Spirit wished to save him, he would provide ameans. I have no counsel; and my heart is dead, for I loved thy motheras a child. She was to me as the evening star coming from afar toshine upon the night of my days; but I have no way to help her child,no words to give her comfort. Has not the Black Eagle a sister wholoved thy mother well, who has seen well-nigh as many winters as Ihave, and who has a charm from the Great Spirit? Her lodge is even nowfilled with wise women of the tribe, taking counsel together as tothis matter of the young chief. All love him well, except the dark andevil Honontkoh: all would save him, whether men or women of thenation, were not the law of the Oneida against him. Go to her lodge,then, and with her take counsel; for the Cedar-tree is without words."
The Black Eagle; or, Ticonderoga Page 38