Edgar Huntly; or, Memoirs of a Sleep-Walker

by Charles Brockden Brown

  Chapter XX.

  I moved forward with as quick a pace as my feeble limbs would permit. Idid not allow myself to meditate. The great object of my wishes was adwelling where food and repose might be procured. I looked earnestlyforward, and on each side, in search of some token of human residence;but the spots of cultivation, the _well-pole_, the _worm fence_,and the hayrick, were nowhere to be seen. I did not even meet with awild hog or a bewildered cow. The path was narrow, and on either sidewas a trackless wilderness. On the right and left were the wavinglines of mountainous ridges, which had no peculiarity enabling me toascertain whether I had ever before seen them.

  At length I noticed that the tracks of wheels had disappeared from thepath that I was treading; that it became more narrow, and exhibitedfewer marks of being frequented. These appearances were discouraging. Inow suspected that I had taken a wrong direction, and, instead ofapproaching, was receding from, the habitation of men.

  It was wisest, however, to proceed. The road could not but have someorigin as well as end. Some hours passed away in this uncertainty. Thesun rose, and by noonday I seemed to be farther than ever from the endof my toils. The path was more obscure, and the wilderness more rugged.Thirst more incommoded me than hunger, but relief was seasonablyafforded by the brooks that flowed across the path.

  Coming to one of these, and having slaked my thirst, I sat down upon thebank, to reflect on my situation. The circuity of the path hadfrequently been noticed, and I began to suspect that, though I hadtravelled long, I had not moved far from the spot where I had commencedmy pilgrimage.

  Turning my eyes on all sides, I noticed a sort of pool, formed by therivulet, at a few paces distant from the road. In approaching andinspecting it, I observed the footsteps of cattle, who had retired by apath that seemed much beaten: I likewise noticed a cedar bucket, brokenand old, lying on the margin. These tokens revived my drooping spirits,arid I betook myself to this new track. It was intricate, but, atlength, led up a steep, the summit of which was of better soil than thatof which the flats consisted. A clover-field, and severalapple-trees,--sure attendants of man,--were now discovered. From thisspace I entered a corn-field, and at length, to my inexpressible joy,caught a glimpse of a house.

  This dwelling was far different from that I had lately left. It was assmall and as low, but its walls consisted of boards. A window of fourpanes admitted the light, and a chimney of brick, well burnt and neatlyarranged, peeped over the roof. As I approached, I heard the voice ofchildren and the hum of a spinning-wheel.

  I cannot make thee conceive the delight which was afforded me by allthese tokens. I now found myself, indeed, among beings like myself, andfrom whom hospitable entertainment might be confidently expected. Icompassed the house, and made my appearance at the door.

  A good woman, busy at her wheel, with two children playing on the groundbefore her, were the objects that now presented themselves. Theuncouthness of my garb, my wild and weatherworn appearance, my fusil andtomahawk, could not but startle them. The woman stopped her wheel, andgazed as if a spectre had started into view.

  I was somewhat aware of these consequences, and endeavoured to eludethem by assuming an air of supplication and humility. I told her that Iwas a traveller, who had unfortunately lost his way and had rambled inthis wild till nearly famished for want. I entreated her to give me somefood; any thing, however scanty or coarse, would be acceptable.

  After some pause she desired me, though not without some marks of fear,to walk in. She placed before me some brown bread and milk. She eyed mewhile I eagerly devoured this morsel. It was, indeed, more deliciousthan any I had ever tasted. At length she broke silence, and expressedher astonishment and commiseration at my seemingly-forlorn state, addingthat perhaps I was the man whom the men were looking after who had beenthere some hours before.

  My curiosity was roused by this intimation. In answer to myinterrogations, she said that three persons had lately stopped, toinquire if her husband had not met, within the last three days, a personof whom their description seemed pretty much to suit my person anddress. He was tall, slender, wore nothing but shirt and trousers, andwas wounded on the cheek.

  "What," I asked, "did they state the rank or condition of the person tobe?"

  He lived in Solesbury. He was supposed to have rambled in the mountains,and to have lost his way, or to have met with some mischance. It wasthree days since he had disappeared, but had been seen by some one, thelast night, at Deb's hut.

  What and where was Deb's hut?

  It was a hut in the wilderness, occupied by an old Indian woman, knownamong her neighbours by the name of Old Deb. Some people called herQueen Mab. Her dwelling was eight _long_ miles from this house.

  A thousand questions were precluded and a thousand doubts solved by thisinformation. _Queen Mab_ were sounds familiar to my ears; for theyoriginated with myself.

  This woman originally belonged to the tribe of Delawares, orLenni-lennapee. All these districts were once comprised within thedominions of that nation. About thirty years ago, in consequence ofperpetual encroachments of the English colonists, they abandoned theirancient seats and retired to the banks of the Wabash and Muskingum.

  This emigration was concerted in a general council of the tribe, andobtained the concurrence of all but one female. Her birth, talents, andage, gave her much consideration and authority among her countrymen; andall her zeal and eloquence were exerted to induce them to lay asidetheir scheme. In this, however, she could not succeed. Finding themrefractory, she declared her resolution to remain behind and maintainpossession of the land which her countrymen should impiously abandon.

  The village inhabited by this clan was built upon ground which nowconstitutes my uncle's barnyard and orchard. On the departure of hercountrymen, this female burnt the empty wigwams and retired into thefastnesses of Norwalk. She selected a spot suitable for an Indiandwelling and a small plantation of maize, and in which she was seldomliable to interruption and intrusion.

  Her only companions were three dogs, of the Indian or wolf species.These animals differed in nothing from their kinsmen of the forest butin their attachment and obedience to their mistress. She governed themwith absolute sway. They were her servants and protectors, and attendedher person or guarded her threshold, agreeably to her directions. Shefed them with corn, and they supplied her and themselves with meat, byhunting squirrels, raccoons, and rabbits.

  To the rest of mankind they were aliens or enemies. They never left thedesert but in company with their mistress, and, when she entered afarm-house, waited her return at a distance. They would suffer none toapproach them, but attacked no one who did not imprudently crave theiracquaintance, or who kept at a respectful distance from their wigwam.That sacred asylum they would not suffer to be violated, and no strangercould enter it but at the imminent hazard of his life, unlessaccompanied and protected by their dame.

  The chief employment of this woman, when at home, besides plucking theweeds from among her corn, bruising the grain between two stones, andsetting her snares for rabbits and opossums, was to talk. Though insolitude, her tongue was never at rest but when she was asleep; but herconversation was merely addressed to her dogs. Her voice was sharp andshrill, and her gesticulations were vehement and grotesque. A hearerwould naturally imagine that she was scolding; but, in truth, she wasmerely giving them directions. Having no other object of contemplationor subject of discourse, she always found, in their postures and looks,occasion for praise, or blame, or command. The readiness with which theyunderstood, and the docility with which they obeyed, her movements andwords, were truly wonderful.

  If a stranger chanced to wander near her hut and overhear her jargon,incessant as it was, and shrill, he might speculate in vain on thereason of these sounds. If he waited in expectation of hearing somereply, he waited in vain. The strain, always voluble and sharp, wasnever intermitted for a moment, and would continue for hours at a time.

  She seldom left the hut but to visit the neighbouring inhabitants an
ddemand from them food and clothing, or whatever her necessitiesrequired. These were exacted as her due; to have her wants supplied washer prerogative, and to withhold what she claimed was rebellion. Sheconceived that by remaining behind her countrymen she succeeded to thegovernment and retained the possession of all this region. The Englishwere aliens and sojourners, who occupied the land merely by herconnivance and permission, and whom she allowed to remain on no termsbut those of supplying her wants.

  Being a woman aged and harmless, her demands being limited to that ofwhich she really stood in need, and which her own industry could notprocure, her pretensions were a subject of mirth and good-humour, andher injunctions obeyed with seeming deference and gravity. To me sheearly became an object of curiosity and speculation. I delighted toobserve her habits and humour her prejudices. She frequently came to myuncle's house, and I sometimes visited her: insensibly she seemed tocontract an affection for me, and regarded me with more complacency andcondescension than any other received.

  She always disdained to speak English, and custom had rendered herintelligible to most in her native language, with regard to a few simplequestions. I had taken some pains to study her jargon, and could makeout to discourse with her on the few ideas which she possessed. Thiscircumstance, likewise, wonderfully prepossessed her in my favour.

  The name by which she was formerly known was Deb; but her pretensions toroyalty, the wildness of her aspect and garb, her shrivelled anddiminutive form, a constitution that seemed to defy the ravages of timeand the influence of the elements, her age, (which some did not scrupleto affirm exceeded a hundred years,) her romantic solitude andmountainous haunts, suggested to my fancy the appellation of _QueenMab_. There appeared to me some rude analogy between this personageand her whom the poets of old time have delighted to celebrate: thouperhaps wilt discover nothing but incongruities between them; but, bethat as it may, Old Deb and Queen Mab soon came into indiscriminate andgeneral use.

  She dwelt in Norwalk upwards of twenty years. She was not forgotten byher countrymen, and generally received from her brothers and sons anautumnal visit; but no solicitations or entreaties could prevail on herto return with them. Two years ago, some suspicion or disgust inducedher to forsake her ancient habitation and to seek a hew one. Happily shefound a more convenient habitation twenty miles to the westward, and ina spot abundantly sterile and rude.

  This dwelling was of logs, and had been erected by a Scottish emigrant,who, not being rich enough to purchase land, and entertaining a passionfor solitude and independence, cleared a field in the unappropriatedwilderness and subsisted on its produce. After some time he disappeared.Various conjectures were formed as to the cause of his absence. None ofthem were satisfactory; but that, which obtained most credit was, thathe had been murdered by the Indians, who, about the same period, paidtheir annual visit to the _Queen_. This conjecture acquired someforce by observing that the old woman shortly after took possession ofhis hut, his implements of tillage, and his corn-field.

  She was not molested in her new abode, and her life passed in the samequiet tenor as before. Her periodical rambles, her regal claims, herguardian wolves, and her uncouth volubility, were equally remarkable;but her circuits were new. Her distance made her visits to Solebury morerare, and had prevented me from ever extending my pedestrian excursionsto her present abode.

  These recollections were now suddenly called up by the information of myhostess. The hut where I had sought shelter and relief was, it seems,the residence of Queen Mab. Some fortunate occurrence had called heraway during my visit. Had she and her dogs been at home, I should havebeen set upon by these ferocious sentinels, and, before their dame couldhave interfered, have been, together with my helpless companion, mangledor killed. These animals never barked: I should have entered unaware ofmy danger, and my fate could scarcely have been averted by my fusil.

  Her absence at this unseasonable hour was mysterious. It was now thetime of year when her countrymen were accustomed to renew their visit.Was there a league between her and the plunderers whom I hadencountered?

  But who were they by whom my footsteps were so industriously traced?Those whom I had seen at Deb's hut were strangers to me, but the woundupon my face was known only to them. To this circumstance was now addedmy place of residence and name. I supposed them impressed with thebelief that I was dead; but this mistake must have speedily beenrectified. Revisiting the spot, finding me gone, and obtaining someintelligence of my former condition, they had instituted a search afterme.

  But what tidings were these? I was supposed to have been bewildered inthe mountains, and three days were said to have passed since mydisappearance. Twelve hours had scarcely elapsed since I emerged fromthe cavern. Had two days and a half been consumed in my subterraneanprison?

  These reflections were quickly supplanted by others. I now gained asufficient acquaintance with the region that was spread around me. I wasin the midst of a vale included between ridges that gradually approachedeach other, and, when joined, were broken up into hollows and steeps,and, spreading themselves over a circular space, assumed the appellationof Norwalk. This vale gradually widened as it tended to the westward,and was, in this place, ten or twelve miles in breadth. My deviousfootsteps had brought me to the foot of the southern barrier. The outerbasis of this was laved by the river; but, as it tended eastward, themountain and river receded from each other, and one of the cultivabledistricts lying between them was Solesbury, my natal _township_.Hither it was now my duty to return with the utmost expedition.

  There were two ways before me. One lay along the interior base of thehill, over a sterile and trackless space, and exposed to the encounterof savages, some of whom might possibly be lurking here. The other wasthe well-frequented road on the outside and along the river, and whichwas to be gained by passing over this hill. The practicability of thepassage was to be ascertained by inquiries made to my hostess. Shepointed out a path that led to the rocky summit and down to the river'sbrink. The path was not easy to be kept in view or to be trodden, but itwas undoubtedly to be preferred to any other.

  A route somewhat circuitous would terminate in the river-road.Thenceforward the way to Solesbury was level and direct; but the wholespace which I had to traverse was not less than thirty miles. In sixhours it would be night, and to perform the journey in that time woulddemand the agile boundings of a leopard and the indefatigable sinews ofan elk.

  My frame was in a miserable plight. My strength had been assailed byanguish, and fear, and watchfulness, by toil, and abstinence, andwounds. Still, however, some remnant was left; would it not enable me toreach my home by nightfall? I had delighted, from my childhood, in featsof agility and perseverance. In roving through the maze of thickets andprecipices, I had put my energies, both moral and physical, frequentlyto the test. Greater achievements than this had been performed, and Idisdained to be outdone in perspicacity by the lynx, in his sure-footedinstinct by the roe, or in patience under hardship, and contention withfatigue, by the Mohawk. I have ever aspired to transcend the rest ofanimals in all that is common to the rational and brute, as well as inall by which they are distinguished from each other.