The Lost Hunter

Home > Other > The Lost Hunter > Page 7
The Lost Hunter Page 7

by John Turvill Adams


  CHAPTER VI.

  I will pursue to death this spiteful knight: Not earth's low centre, nor sea's deepest part, Nor heaven, nor hell, can shield him from my might: I will o'ertake him, take him, cleave his heart. FAIRFAX' TASSO.

  The suspicions of the Indian were confirmed beyond a doubt. It was,perhaps, the voice and accent of the Solitary in his native tonguethat at first attracted his attention and induced him to try theexperiment which resulted as we have seen. He must have had or fanciedthat he had a cause of deadly hatred of long standing against Holden.It is impossible otherwise to explain his conduct. But no length oftime can erase the recollection of an injury from the mind of a NorthAmerican Indian. He cherishes it as something never to be parted with,and would feel degraded in his own estimation were he to forgive.Revenge is the central sun round which his spirit revolves; and togratify the feeling no hardships are too severe. For such a purposehe will traverse, with an unerring instinct, pathless forests forhundreds of miles, swim wide rivers, climb lofty mountains, sleep,unrepining, on the bare ground, exposed to all vicissitudes of heatand cold, supporting himself by the chase and fishing, and sustainedthroughout by his vindictive passion and the glory he connects withits gratification. The kindness shown by Holden to his sister andher son, and the reverence with which she regarded him, it mightbe expected would have influenced Ohquamehud; but they had no sucheffect. To the kindness he ascribed a sinister motive; and of course,Peena's gratitude was misplaced. It was therefore with a fiendish joyunalloyed by misgivings, that he brooded over the means to accomplishhis purpose.

  He dared not communicate it to Peena. He understood her gentlenature too well to suppose that, under any circumstances, she couldsympathize with him, even though she felt no sense of obligation toHolden; and, besides, he distrusted her as one who had abandoned thefaith of her fathers. For, although no Christian in the proper importof the word, the sweet and purifying influences of Christianity hadnot been wholly thrown away upon Peena. She had many friends in theneighboring village who had been attracted by her gentle temper andmodesty, conspicuous among whom was Faith Armstrong. Hence, when shecame to the village, as not unfrequently was the case, in order tosell the berries she had gathered in the fields, or pretty basketsstained with such lively colors as the simple skill of the Indiansknew how to extract from roots and the bark of trees, it seldomhappened that she returned without having made Faith a visit. On suchoccasions the enthusiastic girl would strive to inform her on pointsof religion which, to her own mind, were of the highest importance.Peena would listen, and never contradict, though, it is probable, sheunderstood but little of what to Faith's apprehension was clear.

  It was impossible, however, not to derive benefit from such meetings.None could be in the presence of Faith without being influenced bythe atmosphere of goodness in which she moved. And, indeed, that sheherself derived pleasure from the presence of Peena, was evidence ofthe gentle worth of the latter.

  No wonder then that Ohquamehud determined to conceal his fell purposein his own heart. When, therefore, with the quiet step peculiar to hisrace, he glided into her hut, just before the setting of the sun, hehad chased the traces of passion from his brow, and met her with acalm and satisfied mien. So perfect was the dissimulation that evenone less guileless than the woman would have been deceived. In thepresent case, the preoccupation of her mind in Holden's favor made iteasier.

  "My brother," she said, with a pleased expression, as she caught sightof his altered appearance, "is like the sky in summer when not a cloudis to be seen."

  "The cloud has left the sky of Ohquamehud."

  This was said with a natural and easy air, as if all suspicion werebanished from his mind; nor was the subject further adverted to.

  The time at which the children of nature retire to rest, is not thatobserved by the artificially-cultivated man. For them, the hours oflight and darkness mark out the periods for action and repose. It wasthen still early in the evening, when a heavy breathing in the hut ofPeena indicated the sleep of its inmates. Ohquamehud had listenedfor it, and having waited until the breathing became deep and full toassure him of the profoundness of the slumber, he sat up on his couchand looked cautiously around. The brands were smouldering in theashes with a dim flickering light, but sufficient to direct and givecertainty to his movements. With a step so noiseless that the acutestear would not have detected it, he crossed the floor, took his riflefrom the corner where it had been placed, with equal caution openedthe door, and stood in the open air.

  It was a clear star-lit night, and on the placid bosom of the watershone one star larger and brighter than the rest, as if to light himon his way. But it was all unobserved by the Indian. He had no eyes,no ears, no senses, except for the crime he was about to commit. Tohim, no crime, but a heroic act. Slowly, and measuring each step asthough a thousand ears were listening, he proceeded in the directionof the canoe, untied it, and softly pushed it into the stream. As hetook his seat the dip of his paddle made no sound, and thus, stern asan iron statue, and almost as still, he paddled on.

  And now Ohquamehud approached the island. He stopped his paddle andheld his breath, and listened. Not a living sound was to be heard,not even the cry of a night bird; nothing save the soft flowing of thewater against the shore. Like an eagle circling round and round beforehe pounces on his quarry, the Indian cautiously paddled around theisland. From one of the windows, before concealed, he saw a light.Keeping at a distance, so that the rays should not fall upon him, hestole around until he had interposed the hut between himself and itsbeams. Then, apparently satisfied there was nothing to be feared, hedirected the canoe towards the island, and slowly advanced until itsbottom touched the sand, when he sat still and listened again. Hearingnothing, he left the canoe, and crouching down, crept towards thecabin. Having reached it, he applied his ear to the side and listened,and again advanced. Thus slowly proceeding, some little time elapsedbefore he found himself at the window whence streamed the light.Without venturing to touch the wooden boards, as if fearful they mightcommunicate a knowledge of his presence, he raised himself almostimperceptibly at the edge of the window, until he obtained a view ofthe interior. Holden was sitting at a distance of not more than sixfeet, near a small table, on which a single candle was burning, andin his lap lay a large opened book, on which his folded hands wereresting. He seemed lost in meditation, gazing into the wood-firebefore him, towards which his crossed legs were extended at fulllength.

  The Indian slid his hand down to the lock of the gun, and drew backthe trigger. Cautiously as it was done, he could not prevent a slightclicking sound, which, perhaps, struck the ear of the Solitary, for heturned his head and moved in the chair. The Indian slunk to the edgeof the window, so as to conceal his person from any one within theroom, and remained motionless. Presently he advanced his head, andtook another view. The Solitary had resumed his former position, andwas buried in profound thought. The Indian stepped back a couple ofsteps, so as to allow the necessary distance between himself and thewindow, and raised the rifle to his shoulder.

  At that instant and just as he was about to discharge the deadlyweapon, a large rattlesnake, attracted by the warmth, or for someother reason, glided from the opposite side of the hut towards theoutstretched limbs of Holden, over which it crawled, and restingits body upon them, with upraised head seemed to fasten its eyes,glittering in the fire-light, full upon the face of the startledIndian. The effect was instantaneous. The rifle nearly dropped fromhis uplifted hands, a cold sweat burst from every pore, his kneesshook, and his eyes, fixed on the snake by a fascination thatcontrolled his will, felt bursting from their sockets. Afterpreserving its attitude for a short time, the snake, as if takingHolden under its protection, coiled itself around his feet, and laywith its head resting on his shoe, looking into the fire. As thesnake turned away its bright eyes the spell that bound the Indianwas dissolved. An expression of the deepest awe overspread hiscountenance, his lips moved, but emitted no s
ound, and cautiously ashe had advanced be returned to the canoe, and was soon swallowed up inthe darkness.

  The abstraction of Holden must have been deep and long, for uponrecovering from his reverie, the reptile was gone. Without hisconsciousness it had come, and without his consciousness departed; andwhen he laid the Bible, in which he had been reading, upon the table,he knew not either the danger he had escaped, or the means by which ithad been averted.

  Nor let the conduct of Ohquamehud excite surprise. An American Indian,he was susceptible to the influence of the legends and traditions ofhis race. Among them are some inculcating a superstitious reverencefor certain animals. The bear, for instance, is regarded by sometribes as a sort of relation, and when the necessity of hunger compelsthem to kill him, they apologize, and beg him not to be angry. Therattlesnake again is an object of great respect. Supplied with adeadly venom that makes him the most formidable of enemies, he neverattacks unless first injured, and then, if he can reach his foe, hisvengeance is sure. On his trail he disdains concealment, but with therattles nature has provided to announce his approach, apprises all,that they may remove themselves out of his way. Indeed, he comprehendswithin himself those qualities most valued by the Indians, and is thetype of a brave warrior. When, therefore, at such an hour and such aplace, the reptile made its appearance, and first darting its fieryglances at the Pequot, quietly and, as if scorning and defying thedanger, laid itself caressingly on the limbs of Holden, it seemed tothe astonished Indian that the snake knew his purpose, and angrilyordered him to desist. Vain, he thought, would it be to assail one soprotected, nor was he willing to incur the mysterious enmity of thesnake. How its power might be displayed, whether in striking himdead on the spot, or in laming his limbs, or defeating his successin hunting, or what other dreadful manner, he knew not, but he wasconvinced that some awful punishment would follow disobedience. Hethought it, therefore, more prudent to yield for the present, and waittill he had propitiated the snake, or it had withdrawn its protection.As long as that lasted Onontio was beyond his power. Not thatvengeance was forborne; it was only postponed.

  Of such a character were the thoughts that darted through the mind ofthe Pequot when frightened from his purpose, and in less time than ithas taken to record them, as with drooping head he pursued his lonelyway. Even what he considered the interposition of a supernaturalpower, had not shaken the determination of his spirit. The desirefor revenge had been too long cherished to be given up at a singlewarning, however awful, or however strongly appealing to the deepestimplanted superstitions.

 

‹ Prev