Standish of Standish: A Story of the Pilgrims
Page 13
CHAPTER XII.
THE HEADLESS ARROW.
"Where is the governor? Hast seen him of late, Mistress Priscilla?"
"Nay, Peter Browne, not since breakfast; but what is thy great haste?Have the skies fallen, or our friends the lions eaten up Nero?"
"Nay, then, 't is worse than lions; ay, here is Master Carver."
"Here am I, Peter, and what wouldst thou with me in such haste?"
"Why, sir, I have ill news. This morning I went a-fowling to a pondbeyond that where we cut thatch and fell into such mishap, and as I layquiet at my stand waiting till the ducks might swim my way, I saw, for Iheard naught, twelve stout salvages all painted and trimmed up, carryingbows and arrows and every man his little axe at his girdle. Each glidedafter each like shadows upon the water, so still and smooth, and theyseemed making for the town. Then as I bent my ear to the quarter whencethey came I caught the far-off echo of that same fiendish cry thatsaluted us at the First Encounter, and would seem to be their war-cry orslogan."
"And then?"
"I waited till all were past and all sound died away, and then I fetcheda compass, and ran home as fast as I might to warn the company and thecaptain."
"And thou didst well, Peter," replied Carver musingly, while Priscillastanding in the doorway behind him, with Mary Chilton at her side,nodded mockingly, and clapped her hands in silent applause.
Turning suddenly, the governor surprised her antics, but smiling,asked,--
"Dost know, Priscilla, whither Captain Standish went this morning?"
"He and Francis Cooke went a-field so soon as they had done breakfast,sir, and as they carried axes and wedges in hand, it would seem they hadgone to rive timber," replied Priscilla demurely.
"Ay, like enough; but as 't is near noon, when they will be home fordinner, we will e'en wait till we have the captain's counsel, andmeantime I'll see that all have their arms in readiness."
"And I will go help to make the dinner ready," said Priscilla. "Thoucanst lay the table, Mary."
"Ay," replied the girl listlessly, and turning suddenly to hide thetears that filled her blue eyes. Priscilla looked after her, and theforced gayety faded from her own face as she put her arm about herfriend's waist and led her away.
"Nay, then, nay, then," whispered she; "no more crying, poppet! Didstthou not cry half the night in spite of all I could say?"
"But how can I be gay, and father and mother both dead, and I so weakand ailing, and alone."
"But, Mary, I have lost more than that," said Priscilla in a low voice,and with that hard constraint of manner common to those who seldom speakof their emotions.
"I know thou hast lost father, mother, brother"--
"And even the faithful servant whom I remember in the dear old home whenI was a toddling child," said Priscilla gloomily.
"Ay, but some have tenderer hearts than others and feel these thingsmore cruelly," persisted Mary weeping unrestrainedly.
Priscilla removed her arm from the others waist and stood for a momentlooking out at the open door with a mirthless smile upon her lips. Then,with one long sigh, she turned, and patting Mary's heaving shoulder saidgently enough,--
"I'm more grieved for thee than I can tell, dear Mary; but still I findthat to busy one's self in many ways, and to put on as light-hearted alook as one can muster, is a help to grief. See now poor ElizabethTilley. She hath cried herself ill, and must tarry in bed where isnaught to divert her grief. Is it not better to keep afoot and be of useto others, at least?"
"Ay, I suppose so," replied Mary disconsolately.
"Well, then, lay the table, while I try if the meat is boiled. Oh, if wehad but some turnips, or a cabbage, or aught beside beans to eat withit."
"Canst not make a sauce of biscuit crumbs and butter and an onion, asthou didst for the birds?" asked Mary drying her eyes.
"Sauce for birds is not sauce for boiled beef," replied Priscilla, herartistic taste shocked not a little; "but if thou 'lt be good, I'll tossthee up a dainty bit for thyself."
"And me, too!" exclaimed Desire Minter, who had just come in at thedoor.
"And thee, too," echoed Priscilla. "But, Desire, dost know the Indiansare upon us, and they'll no doubt eat thee first of all, for thou 'rtboth fat and tender, and will prove a dainty bit thyself, I doubt not."
"Well, dear maids, is the noon-meat ready?" asked Mistress Brewster'sgentle voice at the door. "Dame Carver would fain have some porridge,and if thou 'lt move thy kettle a bit, Priscilla, I will make itmyself."
"Now, dear mother, why should you do aught but rest, with three greatgirls standing idle before you?" cried Priscilla gently seating theweary woman in her husband's arm-chair. "I will make the porridge whileDesire lifts the beef from the pot, and Mary lays the table. Our motheris more than tired with last night's watching beside Mistress Carver."
"Nay, then, child, I'll rest a minute, since I have such willing handsto wait on me, and well I know thou art the most delicate cook among us.Dame Carver will be the gainer."
And leaning her head against the back of the chair, poor, weary MistressBrewster closed her eyes, and even dozed, while the three girls busilycarried on their tasks, with low-voiced murmurs of talk that rathersoothed than disturbed the sleeper.
The first plan, of dividing the settlers into nineteen families andbuilding a house for each, had been abandoned before more than two orthree of the houses were begun, and now that the prostrating sicknessinterrupting their plans was past, and the survivors counted, it wasfound that sadly few dwellings were needed to contain them, so that atpresent all were divided among four or five houses, although as the mengained strength for labor each wrought upon his future home in all thetime to be spared from the common needs.
The house where we have found Priscilla was that of Elder Brewster,situated on the corner of The Street and the King's Highway, as thePilgrims called the path crossing The Street at right angles, andleading down to the brook, although to-day we should say that theelder's house stood on the corner of Leyden and Market streets; like allothers built at this time, it was a low structure covered in with plankshewn from the forest trees, and roofed with thatch. At each side of theentrance door lay a tolerably large room, that on the right hand,nearest to the brook, used as kitchen, dining, and general living room,while the other was the family sleeping room, and also used as awithdrawing room, where the elder held counsel with the governor, orother friends, and studied his exhortation for the coming Sunday; here,also, Mistress Brewster led her boys, or the maidens she guided, forreproof, counsel, or tender comforting. At the back of this room,partitioned by a curtain, was a nook, where Wrestling, a delicate childof six, and Love, his sturdier brother, two years older, nestled likekittens in a little cot. Above in the loft, reached by a ladder-likestaircase, was a comfortable room appropriated to Mary Chilton,Priscilla Molines, and Elizabeth Tilley, all orphaned within threemonths, and at once adopted by the Elder's wife as her especial charge.
In the next house, on a lot of land appropriated at first to JohnGoodman and some others, the governor had taken up his abode with hisdelicate wife, her maid Lois, Desire Minter their ward, and severalchildren whom she cared for. John Howland, the governor's secretary andright-hand man, also lived here, and, like the manly man he was,hesitated not to give help wherever it was needed.
Owing to Mrs. Carver's very delicate health, it had been arranged thatthis family should share the table at Elder Brewster's, where the younggirls just mentioned were ready and glad to take charge of the householdlabors, leaving their elders free for other matters.
In another house, placed in charge of Stephen Hopkins and his bustlingwife, nearly all the unmarried men were gathered, and made a hearty andsoberly jocund family. The third house, headed by Isaac Allerton and hisdaughters, was the home of Bradford, Winslow, Mistress Susannah White,with her children, Resolved and Peregrine, and her brother, DoctorFuller, with their little nephew, Samuel Fuller, whose father and motherboth lay on Cole's Hill.
In
the Common house, under charge of Master Warren, with the Billingtonsas officials, were gathered the rest of the company except Standish, whoslept in his own house on the hill, but had his place at ElderBrewster's table when he chose to take it.
Hither he now came, silent and grave as was his wont since Rose died,but ever ready to give his aid and sympathy, whether in handicraft orcounsel, to the governor, the elder, or the women struggling withunwonted labors. Of lamentation there was none, and since the day thesoldier stood beside that open grave and watched the mould piled uponthe coffin his own hands had fashioned no man, not even the elder, hadheard his wife's name, or any allusion to his loss, pass his lips; yetthose who knew him best marked well the line that had deepened betweenhis brows, the still endurance of his eyes, and the sadness underlyingevery intonation of his voice; and those who knew him not, and had intheir shallower natures no chord to vibrate in sympathy with this grandpatience, comprehended it not, and seeing him thus ready and helpful,not evading such pleasant talk as lightened the toil of his comrades,not preoccupied or gloomy, these thought the light wound was alreadyhealed, and more than one beside Desire Minter speculated upon hissecond choice.
Listening to the governor's report of Browne's discovery, Standishnodded, as not surprised, and said,--
"Ay, 't is sure to come, soon or late, and a peace won by arms isstronger than one framed of words. When the salvages have made theironset and we have chastised them roundly, we shall be right goodfriends. Meantime, Francis Cooke and I left our adzes and wedges wherewe were hewing plank, and so soon as I have taken bite and sup I'llforth to look for them with my snaphance."
"We've heard of locking the stable door when the steed was stolen,"murmured Priscilla to Mary, and the captain, whose ear was quick as ahare's, half turned toward her with a glint of laughter in his eyes.
But the jibe was prophetic, for when, half an hour later, Standish andCooke returned to the tree they had felled, the tools were all gone, anda headless arrow was left standing derisively in the cleft of a log.
"Hm! A cartel of defiance," said the captain drawing it out and grimlyexamining it. "Well, 't is like our savage forefathers of Britainchallenging Julius Caesar and the Roman power. But come, Cooke, 't iscertain we cannot rive plank with our naked hands, and since our toolsare gone, we had best go home and work at the housen. To-morrow we'lltake some order with these masters."