by Zane Grey
Chapter XII.
"The Groves Were God's First Temples."
From dawn until noon on Sunday bands of Indians arrived at theVillage of Peace. Hundreds of canoes glided down the swift streamand bumped their prows into the pebbly beach. Groups of mountedwarriors rode out of the forests into the clearing; squaws withpapooses, maidens carrying wicker baskets, and children playing withrude toys, came trooping along the bridle-paths.
Gifts were presented during the morning, after which the visitorswere feasted. In the afternoon all assembled in the grove to hearthe preaching.
The maple grove wherein the service was to be conducted might havebeen intended by Nature for just such a purpose as it now fulfilled.These trees were large, spreading, and situated far apart. Mossystones and the thick carpet of grass afforded seats for thecongregation.
Heckewelder--a tall, spare, and kindly appearing man--directed thearranging of the congregation. He placed the converted Indians justbehind the knoll upon which the presiding minister was to stand. Ina half circle facing the knoll he seated the chieftains andimportant personages of the various tribes. He then made a shortaddress in the Indian language, speaking of the work of the mission,what wonders it had accomplished, what more good work it hoped todo, and concluded by introducing the young missionary.
While Heckewelder spoke, Jim, who stood just behind, employed thefew moments in running his eye over the multitude. The sight whichmet his gaze was one he thought he would never forget. Aninvoluntary word escaped him.
"Magnificent!" he exclaimed.
The shady glade had been transformed into a theater, from whichgazed a thousand dark, still faces. A thousand eagle plumes waved,and ten thousand bright-hued feathers quivered in the soft breeze.The fantastically dressed scalps presented a contrast to the smooth,unadorned heads of the converted redmen. These proud plumes anddefiant feathers told the difference between savage and Christian.
In front of the knoll sat fifty chiefs, attentive and dignified.Representatives of every tribe as far west as the Scioto River werenumbered in that circle. There were chiefs renowned for war, forcunning, for valor, for wisdom. Their stately presence gave themeeting tenfold importance. Could these chiefs be interested, moved,the whole western world of Indians might be civilized.
Hepote, a Maumee chief, of whom it was said he had never listened towords of the paleface, had the central position in this circle. Onhis right and left, respectively, sat Shaushoto and Pipe, implacablefoes of all white men. The latter's aspect did not belie hisreputation. His copper-colored, repulsive visage compelled fear; itbreathed vindictiveness and malignity. A singular action of his wasthat he always, in what must have been his arrogant vanity, turnedhis profile to those who watched him, and it was a remarkable one;it sloped in an oblique line from the top of his forehead to hisprotruding chin, resembling somewhat the carved bowl of his pipe,which was of flint and a famed inheritance from his ancestors. Fromit he took his name. One solitary eagle plume, its tip stainedvermilion, stuck from his scalp-lock. It slated backward on a linewith his profile.
Among all these chiefs, striking as they were, the figure ofWingenund, the Delaware, stood out alone.
His position was at the extreme left of the circle, where he leanedagainst a maple. A long, black mantle, trimmed with spotless white,enveloped him. One bronzed arm, circled by a heavy bracelet of gold,held the mantle close about his lofty form. His headdress, whichtrailed to the ground, was exceedingly beautiful. The eagle plumeswere of uniform length and pure white, except the black-pointedtips.
At his feet sat his daughter, Whispering Winds. Her maidens weregathered round her. She raised her soft, black eyes, shining with awondrous light of surprise and expectation, to the youngmissionary's face.
Beyond the circle the Indians were massed together, even beyond thelimits of the glade. Under the trees on every side sat warriorsastride their steeds; some lounged on the green turf; many reclinedin the branches of low-spreading maples.
As Jim looked out over the sea of faces he started in surprise. Thesudden glance of fiery eyes had impelled his gaze. He recognizedSilvertip, the Shawnee chief. The Indian sat motionless on apowerful black horse. Jim started again, for the horse was Joe'sthoroughbred, Lance. But Jim had no further time to think of Joe'senemy, for Heckewelder stepped back.
Jim took the vacated seat, and, with a far-reaching, resonant voicebegan his discourse to the Indians.
"Chieftains, warriors, maidens, children of the forest, listen, andyour ears shall hear no lie. I am come from where the sun rises totell you of the Great Spirit of the white man.
"Many, many moons ago, as many as blades of grass grow on yonderplain, the Great Spirit of whom I shall speak created the world. Hemade the sparkling lakes and swift rivers, the boundless plains andtangled forests, over which He caused the sun to shine and the rainto fall. He gave life to the kingly elk, the graceful deer, therolling bison, the bear, the fox--all the beasts and birds andfishes. But He was not content; for nothing He made was perfect inHis sight. He created the white man in His own image, and from thisfirst man's rib He created his mate--a woman. He turned them free ina beautiful forest.
"Life was fair in the beautiful forest. The sun shone always, thebirds sang, the waters flowed with music, the flowers cast sweetfragrance on the air. In this forest, where fruit bloomed always,was one tree, the Tree of Life, the apple of which they must noteat. In all this beautiful forest of abundance this apple alone wasforbidden them.
"Now evil was born with woman. A serpent tempted her to eat of theapple of Life, and she tempted the man to eat. For their sin theGreat Spirit commanded the serpent to crawl forever on his belly,and He drove them from the beautiful forest. The punishment fortheir sin was to be visited on their children's children, always,until the end of time. The two went afar into the dark forest, tolearn to live as best they might. From them all tribes descended.The world is wide. A warrior might run all his days and not reachthe setting sun, where tribes of yellow-skins live. He might travelhalf his days toward the south-wind, where tribes of black-skinsabound. People of all colors inhabited the world. They lived inhatred toward one another. They shed each other's blood; they stoleeach other's lands, gold, and women. They sinned.
"Many moons ago the Great Spirit sorrowed to see His chosen tribe,the palefaces, living in ignorance and sin. He sent His only Son toredeem them, and said if they would listen and believe, and teachthe other tribes, He would forgive their sin and welcome them to thebeautiful forest.
"That was moons and moons ago, when the paleface killed his brotherfor gold and lands, and beat his women slaves to make them plant hiscorn. The Son of the Great Spirit lifted the cloud from thepalefaces' eyes, and they saw and learned. So pleased was the GreatSpirit that He made the palefaces wiser and wiser, and master of theworld. He bid them go afar to teach the ignorant tribes.
"To teach you is why the young paleface journeyed from the risingsun. He wants no lands or power. He has given all that he had. Hewalks among you without gun or knife. He can gain nothing but thehappiness of opening the redmen's eyes.
"The Great Spirit of whom I teach and the Great Manitou, your idol,are the same; the happy hunting ground of the Indian and thebeautiful forest of the paleface are the same; the paleface and theredman are the same. There is but one Great Spirit, that is God; butone eternal home, that is heaven; but one human being, that is man.
"The Indian knows the habits of the beaver; he can follow the pathsof the forests; he can guide his canoe through the foaming rapids;he is honest, he is brave, he is great; but he is not wise. Hiswisdom is clouded with the original sin. He lives in idleness; hepaints his face; he makes his squaw labor for him, instead oflaboring for her; he kills his brothers. He worships the trees androcks. If he were wise he would not make gods of the swift arrow andbounding canoe; of the flowering ash and the flaming flint. Forthese things have not life. In his dreams he sees his arrow speed tothe reeling deer; in his dreams he sees his canoe shoot over thecrest of s
hining waves; and in his mind he gives them life. When hiseyes are opened he will see they have no spirit. The spirit is inhis own heart. It guides the arrow to the running deer, and steersthe canoe over the swirling current. The spirit makes him find theuntrodden paths, and do brave deeds, and love his children and hishonor. It makes him meet his foe face to face, and if he is to dieit gives him strength to die--a man. The spirit is what makes himdifferent from the arrow, the canoe, the mountain, and all the birdsand beasts. For it is born of the Great Spirit, the creator of all.Him you must worship.
"Redmen, this worship is understanding your spirit and teaching itto do good deeds. It is called Christianity. Christianity is love.If you will love the Great Spirit you will love your wives, yourchildren, your brothers, your friends, your foes--you will love thepalefaces. No more will you idle in winter and wage wars in summer.You will wear your knife and tomahawk only when you hunt for meat.You will be kind, gentle, loving, virtuous--you will have grownwise. When your days are done you will meet all your loved ones inthe beautiful forest. There, where the flowers bloom, the fruitsripen always, where the pleasant water glides and the summer windswhisper sweetly, there peace will dwell forever.
"Comrades, be wise, think earnestly. Forget the wicked paleface; forthere are many wicked palefaces. They sell the serpent firewater;they lie and steal and kill. These palefaces' eyes are stillclouded. If they do not open they will never see the beautifulforest. You have much to forgive, but those who forgive please theGreat Spirit; you must give yourselves to love, but those who loveare loved; you must work, but those who work are happy.
"Behold the Village of Peace! Once it contained few; now there aremany. Where once the dark forest shaded the land, see the cabins,the farms, the horses, the cattle! Field on field of waving, goldengrain shine there under your eyes. The earth has blossomedabundance. Idling and fighting made not these rich harvests. Beliefmade love; love made wise eyes; wise eyes saw, and lo! there cameplenty.
"The proof of love is happiness. These Christian Indians are happy.They are at peace with the redman and the paleface. They till thefields and work in the shops. In days to come cabins and farms andfields of corn will be theirs. They will bring up their children,not to hide in the forest to slay, but to walk hand in hand with thepalefaces as equals.
"Oh, open your ears! God speaks to you; peace awaits you! Cast thebitterness from your hearts; it is the serpent-poison. While youhate, God shuts His eyes. You are great on the trail, in thecouncil, in war; now be great in forgiveness. Forgive the palefaceswho have robbed you of your lands. Then will come peace. If you donot forgive, the war will go on; you will lose lands and homes, tofind unmarked graves under the forest leaves. Revenge is sweet; butit is not wise. The price of revenge is blood and life. Root it outof your hearts. Love these Christian Indians; love the missionariesas they love you; love all living creatures. Your days are but few;therefore, cease the the strife. Let us say, 'Brothers, that isGod's word, His law; that is love; that is Christianity!' If youwill say from your heart, brother, you are a Christian.
"Brothers, the paleface teacher beseeches you. Think not of thislong, bloody war, of your dishonored dead, of your silenced wigwams,of your nameless graves, of your homeless children. Think of thefuture. One word from you will make peace over all this broad land.The paleface must honor a Christian. He can steal no Christian'sland. All the palefaces, as many as the stars of the great whitepath, dare not invade the Village of Peace. For God smiles here.Listen to His words: 'Come unto me all that are weary and heavyladen, and I will give you rest.'"
Over the multitude brooded an impressive, solemn silence. Then anaged Delaware chief rose, with a mien of profound thought, andslowly paced before the circle of chiefs. Presently he stopped,turned to the awaiting Indians, and spoke:
"Netawatwees is almost persuaded to be a Christian." He resumed hisseat.
Another interval of penetrating quiet ensued. At length avenerable-looking chieftain got up:
"White Eyes hears the rumbling thunder in his ears. The smoke blowsfrom his eyes. White Eyes is the oldest chief of the Lenni-Lenape.His days are many; they are full; they draw near the evening of hislife; he rejoices that wisdom is come before his sun is set.
"White Eyes believes the young White Father. The ways of the GreatSpirit are many as the fluttering leaves; they are strange andsecret as the flight of a loon; White Eyes believes the redman'shappy hunting grounds need not be forgotten to love the palefaces'God. As a young brave pants and puzzles over his first trail, so thegrown warrior feels in his understanding of his God. He gropesblindly through dark ravines.
"White Eyes speaks few words to-day, for he is learning wisdom; hebids his people hearken to the voice of the White Father. War iswrong; peace is best. Love is the way to peace. The palefaceadvances one step nearer his God. He labors for his home; he keepsthe peace; he asks but little; he frees his women. That is well.White Eyes has spoken."
The old chief slowly advanced toward the Christian Indians. He laidaside his knife and tomahawk, and then his eagle plumes andwar-bonnet. Bareheaded, he seated himself among the convertedredmen. They began chanting in low, murmuring tones.
Amid the breathless silence that followed this act of such greatsignificance, Wingenund advanced toward the knoll with slow, statelystep. His dark eye swept the glade with lightning scorn; his glancealone revealed the passion that swayed him.
"Wingenund's ears are keen; they have heard a feather fall in thestorm; now they hear a soft-voiced thrush. Wingenund thunders to hispeople, to his friends, to the chiefs of other tribes: 'Do not burythe hatchet!' The young White Father's tongue runs smooth like thegliding brook; it sings as the thrush calls its mate. Listen; butwait, wait! Let time prove his beautiful tale; let the moons go byover the Village of Peace.
"Wingenund does not flaunt his wisdom. He has grown old among hiswarriors; he loves them; he fears for them. The dream of thepalefaces' beautiful forest glimmers as the rainbow glows over thelaughing falls of the river. The dream of the paleface is toobeautiful to come true. In the days of long ago, when Wingenund'sforefathers heard not the paleface's ax, they lived in love andhappiness such as the young White Father dreams may come again. Theywaged no wars. A white dove sat in every wigwam. The lands weretheirs and they were rich. The paleface came with his leaden death,his burning firewater, his ringing ax, and the glory of the redmenfaded forever.
"Wingenund seeks not to inflame his braves to anger. He is sick ofblood-spilling--not from fear; for Wingenund cannot feel fear. Buthe asks his people to wait. Remember, the gifts of the paleface evercontained a poisoned arrow. Wingenund's heart is sore. The day ofthe redman is gone. His sun is setting. Wingenund feels already thegray shades of evening."
He stopped one long moment as if to gather breath for his finalcharge to his listeners. Then with a magnificent gesture hethundered:
"Is the Delaware a fool? When Wingenund can cross unarmed to the BigWater he shall change his mind. When Deathwind ceases to blow hisbloody trail over the fallen leaves Wingenund will believe."