CHAPTER XXXVI.
But love itself could never pant For all that beauty sighs to grant, With half the fervor hate bestows Upon the last embrace of foes, When grappling in the fight, they fold Those arms that ne'er shall lose their hold; Friends meet to part; love laughs at faith: True foes, once met, are joined till death!
BYRON'S _Giaour_.
Pownal, upon parting with Esther, sought his father. But theexpression of his apprehensions was so vague, he was so incapable ofgiving his fears any definite shape, that he made no more impressionthan the woman. The calm austerity of the Solitary's face almostmelted into a smile at the idea that any event could occur except inthe determined course of things. It was the pride of the human heart;it was the presumption of the human intellect that dreamed of freedomof choice or of action. If individual wills were permitted to crossand jostle each other, the universe would be a scene of confusion.Freedom was only in appearance. One grand, serene, supreme willembraced the actual and the ideal in its circle, and all things weremoved by a law as certain and irresistible as that which impels worldsin their orbits. The conviction was a part of Holden's self. He couldno more be convinced of its fallacy than of his own non-existence, andhis son left him with the full assurance that, even were he to knowthat his life was menaced, he would be the last one to take anyprecautionary measures for its protection. But, in truth, the fears ofPownal were so slight, that after an allusion to them, he forbore todwell upon the subject, especially as the conversation took a turn asinteresting to him as it was unexpected.
"Thou art of an age, my son," said Holden, abruptly, "to take to theea wife, and the bounty of the good man whose name I permit thee stillto bear, hath placed thee in a condition to gratify an innocent andnatural desire. Hath thy heart moved at all in this matter?"
The question was excessively embarrassing, and the young man blushedand hesitated as he replied, that there was yet abundant time to thinkof such things.
"Think not," said the Solitary, observing his son's hesitation, "thatI desire to intrude into thy confidence, though the heart of a sonshould be like a clear stream, the bottom of which may be seen by afather's eye. I speak, because partly common fame, and partly my ownobservation, connect thy name in some wise with a young lady's."
"And who is the lady," inquired Pownal, laughing, "whom my indiscreetgallantry has so compromised?"
"Nay, if thou wilt not be frank with me, or choosest to reply in thelanguage of trifling, we will drop the subject."
"I will be frank. I will answer any question you may ask."
"Tell me, then, is there any relation between thee and Anne Bernardtenderer than that of common acquaintance?"
Pownal expected the question, and was therefore prepared.
"I esteem Miss Bernard highly," he said. "I am acquainted with noyoung lady who is her superior. I should consider myself fortunate toattract her attention. But nothing, except the language of friendship,has passed betwixt us."
"I am satisfied," said Holden, "and it is evidence of excellence inthyself that one possessing the lovable and noble qualities of Anneshould attract thee. But though, in the limited circle of the smalltown, thy presence may be acceptable in the withdrawing room of thewealthy lawyer, thinkest thou he will be willing to give thee the handof his only daughter?"
"I have made no pretensions to the hand of Miss Bernard; and even if Idid, I see in it no presumption. There is no distinction of patricianand plebeian in this country."
"There are no such names, and yet there is a distinction. Will itplease the rich and polished Judge to ally his daughter with the sonof one like me?"
"Judge Bernard is above the mean conceit of valuing himself uponhis riches. I never heard anything that sounded like arrogance orsuperciliousness from him, and he has uniformly treated me withkindness. For yourself, dear father, though for reasons of your ownyou have chosen to lead hitherto this life of solitude and privation,why continue to do so? Why not leave this miserable hut for comfortsmore befitting your age and the society you are capable of adorning?"
"Forbear! In this miserable hut, as thou callest it, I found the peacethat passeth understanding, and its walls are to me more glorious thanthe gildings of palaces. If thou lovest Anne Bernard, as I stronglysuspect, I say not unto thee cease to love her, but wait, hoarding thylove in secrecy and silence, until the fullness of the time is come.Wilt thou not promise me this, for a short time?"
"I will do nothing, father, that may be contrary to yourinclinations."
"It is enough: then let there be no change in thy conduct. If thouhave the love of Anne, keep it as a precious jewel, but for thepresent be content with the knowledge thereof: if thou have it not,seek not thereafter. I promise thee it shall be for thy good, nor willI unreasonably try thy patience."
Here the interview ended, and Pownal departed, wondering over themystery his father affected, though he could not but confess tohimself there was a worldly wisdom (as he supposed it to be) in theadvice, not to be precipitate, but to watch the course of events.Though unacquainted with the motives of his parent, he was bound torespect his wishes, and felt a natural desire to gratify him to theextent of his ability. He had never found him unreasonable, whatevermight be his singularities, and besides, no plan of his own wascrossed. He was obliged to admit the possibility of a failure of hissuit. To break up the pleasant relations existing betwixt the Bernardfamily and himself; not to be allowed to approach Anne as before; acold constraint to be substituted for a confiding friendship! No, thehazard was too great. Things should continue as they were. He and Annewere still young: there was time enough; his father was right; thecounsels of age were wiser than those prompted by the rashness andimpetuosity of youth.
The following morning was calm and warm, when Holden stood at the doorof his cabin, on the second occasion we choose to intrude upon hisdevotions. Not a cloud was to be seen, and the pearly hue whichoverspreads a clear summer sky, just stealing out of the shades ofnight, had not disappeared, except in the eastern quarter of theheavens, where a faint suffusion heralded, like a distant banner, theapproach of the sun, welcomed, at first, by the low twittering of thebirds, which gradually increased in frequency and loudness, until theyswelled into bold strains, and rose melodiously into the air.
The Solitary stood, as before, with eyes fixed steadfastly upon thekindling east. Could it be possible that an expectation, whichhad been so often disappointed, should still be cherished; that noexperience, no arguments could dissipate the delusion? It would seemso. By that subtle process, whereby minds possessed by an engrossingidea convert facts, and language, and any circumstances, howevertrifling, and which, to well-balanced intellects, would seem butlittle adapted to the purpose, into proofs incontrovertible of theiropinions, had he, by dwelling upon certain texts of Scripture, which,with a mad shrewdness, he had collated, imparted to them giganticproportions, and a peculiar coloring, which dominated and threw lightupon the context, but received no qualification or disparagement inreturn. Without the necessity of repetition, various passages willoccur to the reader, which, taken out of connection with what precedesand follows, may easily be made to support a theory of the kind he hadadopted.
Holden stood as before, obedient to the command to watch, and verilydo we believe, that had he, indeed, seen the Son of Man in the cloudsof heaven, the magnificent vision would have impressed him with asmuch joy as solemnity. But in vain he looked, and having waited untilthe yellow sunshine, like a shower of gold, fell all around him, heretired into his hut. Not unobserved, however. The Indian, Ohquamehud,with his rifle by his side, from his place of concealment, on theright shore, had been watching all his motions. There had he lain inambush ever since the stars had deserted the sky. Patiently he lay,with his eyes fixed on the little island. The sun mounted higher; hourafter hour passed away, and yet he moved not. The time for the noondaymeal arrived, but he heeded it not. The hut of Peena was scarcelymore than a couple of miles distant, and he might reach it in a fewmoments, but he stirr
ed not. In the interval of his absence Onontiomight leave the island, and go, he knew not whither, and his watch forthe day would be in vain. And now the lengthening shadows were fallingtowards the east. The middle of the afternoon had arrived.
It was then Ohquamehud saw Holden, or Onontio, as he called him, leavehis cabin and enter the canoe. Its bow was turned toward that bank ofthe river on which the Indian was concealed, but somewhat higher upthe stream, and, impelled by a vigorous arm, the light boat skimmedrapidly over the water. It passed so near to the Indian, that a bulletsent from a steady aim must have brought inevitable death, and thethought crossed the mind of the lurking spy, whether it were notbetter to fire from his ambush, but the recollection of his adventureon the island, and of his offering to the Manito of the Falls,occurred to him, and he allowed the tempting opportunity to escape.
Holden having run the canoe upon a sandy beach that curved in betweentwo rocks, fastened it by a rope to a heavy stone, and pursued hiscourse along the shore in the direction of the village. The Indianfollowed at a distance in the woods, taking care to keep his ownperson concealed, but that of the pursued in sight. Ohquamehud had nomeans of determining from the movements of Holden, for a considerabletime, what were his intentions, whether to enter the village or go tothe Falls, but when he reached the spot where, if his design had beento do the latter, he would have turned to the left, to the Indian'sbitter disappointment, he advanced up the road to the right.Ohquamehud pretty much gave up all hope of succeeding in his designthat day, but, notwithstanding, still continued his observation.Holden did not proceed far before he entered a small house that stoodby the roadside. (This delay, as we shall presently observe, wasattended with important consequences.) The person whom the Solitarywanted to see was, probably, not at home, but whatever may have beenthe reason, he presently left the house, and retracing his steps,struck off, to the delight of Ohquamehud, across the fields, and in adirection towards the Yaupaae. The Indian waited until Holden was outof sight, hidden by the woods on the opposite side of the field, whenhe slowly followed, looking around, as if in search of game. Havingreached the woods, he seemed to think it necessary to use greaterprecaution in his further approach, the nearer he came to his enemy.With this view, he moved slowly, carefully avoiding stepping on anydry sticks or fallen branches, and stopping if, by any chance, hemade the slightest noise. One would have supposed such extreme cautionunnecessary, for so loud was the incessant roar of the cataract, thatwhere the Indian stood the keenest hearing could not, even within afew rods, have detected the noise made by walking. It is probable thathabit, quite as much as reflection, determined the proceeding of theIndian.
With stealthy tread, creeping like the catamount of his nativeforests, when he is about to leap upon his prey, the wily andrevengeful Indian stole along, holding his rifle in his hand, whileeach sense was quickened and strained to the utmost. The wood extendedquite to the margin of the Falls, so that he was enabled to come nearwithout exposing his person. At length, from behind a large oak, oneof the original Sachems of the wood, he beheld his foe. Holden wasunarmed, for though, at certain times of the year, when game was inseason, he often carried a gun, it was not an uniform practice withhim. He stood, unconscious of danger, with his back to the Indian, hisarms folded, and gazing upon the water, that roared and tumbled below.The eyes of Ohquamehud gleamed with ferocious satisfaction as hebeheld his foe in his power. Thrice he raised the rifle to hisshoulder, after carefully examining the priming, and as often letthe butt slide gently to the ground, pausing a little while each timebetween, and never taking his eyes off the victim. This conduct mightbe mistaken for irresolution. Far from it. The fell purpose of thesavage never burnt more intensely; his hatred was never more bitter;and he was debating with himself whether to shoot the Solitary as hestood, nor allow him to know his destroyer, or to rouse him to hisperil, to play with his agonies, and thus give him a foretaste ofdeath. Holden was at a distance of not more than fifty feet; beforehim were the precipice and the Falls, behind him was the Indian; therewas no retreat. The fiendish desire agitating Ohquamehud was the sameas that which the savages feel when they torture a prisoner at thestake, and delay the fatal stroke that is a mercy. He felt sure of hisprey, and after a short period of hesitation, determined to gratifythe diabolical passion.
He stepped softly from behind the oak, and glided onwards, until thedistance betwixt himself and Holden was reduced to thirty feet.The back of the latter was still towards the Indian, and he seemedabsorbed in contemplations that shut his senses to the admissionof outward objects. Again Ohquamehud paused, but it was only for amoment, and then uttered in a distinct tone the word, "Onontio."
The sound caught the ears of Holden, who instantly turned, and beheldthe threatening looks and attitude of the savage. He comprehended, atonce, the hostile purpose of Ohquamehud, and the imminence of his owndanger, but betrayed not the slightest fear. His cheek blanched not.His eye lost none of its usual daring as he surveyed the assassin; nordid his voice falter, as, disguising his suspicions, he exclaimed--
"Ohquamehud! he is welcome. He hath come to listen to the voice of theGreat Spirit, who speaks in the Yaupaae."
"Onontio is mistaken," said the Indian. "The eyes of Ohquamehudare sharp. They have seen the blood of his kindred on the hands ofOnontio, and he will wash it off."
"Indian, thou hast discovered--I know not how--that I once bore thename you have mentioned. It was given to me in the days of madness andfolly by the western tribes. But, my hands are unstained by any blood,save what was shed in fair and open warfare."
"Ha! Onontio hath forgotten the fight in the night of storms, on thebanks of the Yellow Wabash, when the sister of Ohquamehud was slainand his brother pierced by the knife of the accursed pale face, withthe curling-hair."
"Indian! I sought to save the maiden's life. I can show the scar Ireceived in her defence. As for thy brother, I know naught of him. Ifhe fell by me, it was in the manner in which one brave warrior meetsanother."
"It is a lie! The heart of the pale-face is fainting. He is a weasel,that tries to creep through a small hole."
"If I were armed thou wouldst not dare to speak thus," said Holden,some of the spirit of his youthful years flashing up. "But, go; thouart a coward to come armed against a defenceless man."
"Onontio is a fool! Who told him to leave his rifle in his lodge? Heknoweth not so much as a beast or a reptile. When the bear roameth inthe forest, doth he leave his claws in his den, or the rattlesnake,his teeth in the hole in the rocks? Let Onontio sing his death-song,but, softly, lest the north wind bear it to the cub, who is waitingfor the second bullet in the pouch of Ohquamehud."
A pang of inexpressible agony cut, like a knife, through the heartof Holden. He could brave death himself, but, good God! that his sonshould be murdered by the savage! The thought was too horrible. For amoment, the courageous heart almost stopped, and, with quivering lips,he commended the young man to the protection of Providence. But themomentary weakness soon passed away, as the dogma of divine decreesor fate occurred to his mind. The blood flowed freer in his veins; hisform straightened, and with a dignified gesture, he answered--
"Heathen! I have no death-song to sing. The Christian goeth not to hisMaker, boasting of his fancied merits, but, like a child, hiding itsface in its mother's bosom, and asking to be forgiven. And know thatof thyself thou art powerless. Thou canst do only what is permitted."
"It is well!" exclaimed Ohquamehud, a glow of admiration, at thecourage with which Holden met his fate, flashing--in spite ofhimself--across his countenance, and which he vainly tried toconceal. "The dog of a pale-face is tired of his life, and will thankOhquamehud for sending him to the spirits of his fathers."
So saying, he raised the rifle to his shoulder and fired. The eyes ofthe Solitary had been intently fastened upon every motion of his foe,and, the instant before the gun was discharged, he threw his armsviolently into the air. Whether the gesture disconcerted the aim ofthe Indian, or intemperance had weakened his
nerves, the riflewas aimed too high and failed of its mark. But Holden's escape wasextremely narrow. The bullet grazed his scalp, perforating the cap,and throwing it from his head. In the colloquy, he had, probably,determined upon his line of conduct; for, immediately, upon the flash,he started, with an activity which his appearance hardly promised,towards his antagonist, and before the latter could club his rifle ordraw a knife, had seized him around the waist, and strove to throw himon the ground. The Indian dropped the useless gun, and returned thedeath-grapple.
"Child of the devil!" cried Holden, whose passions were now thoroughlyroused, and who fancied himself back again to the time when he foughtthe red man of the West, "I will send thee, this day, to the placeappointed for thee."
Ohquamehud answered not a word, but, straining the other in an embraceas close as his own, summoned all his powers to the deadly struggle.
The two were more equally matched than might at first be supposed.The Indian was more active, but Holden was stronger, and towered abovehim. The habits of Holden had been eminently conducive to health andstrength. There was no superfluous flesh about him, and his sinewswere like cord. But, on the other hand, the youth of the Indian wasa great advantage, promising an endurance beyond that to be expectedfrom one of the years of Holden.
With desperate struggles each strove to gain an advantage; butstrength on the one side, and activity on the other, foiled theiropposing exertions. The turf was torn up under their feet, and theywere whirled round, now in this direction, and now in that, until,maddened by the contest, neither thought of his personal safety,nor heeded the frightful abyss on the brink of which they fought. Atlength, foaming and endeavoring to throttle each other, the foot ofone tripped and he stumbled over the precipice, carrying the otherdown with him in his arms. The grappled foes turned over in the air,and then fell upon the edge of a projecting shelf of a rock, some halfa dozen feet below. Ohquamehud was undermost, receiving the full forceof the fall, and breaking it for Holden, who, as they touched therock, threw one arm around the trunk of a small tree that grew outof a fissure. The Indian must have been stunned, for Holden felthis grasp relax, and, still clinging to the tree, he endeavored towithdraw himself from the other's hold. He had partially succeeded,when the Indian, recovering consciousness, made a movement that threwhis body over the precipice, down which he would have fallen had henot blindly caught at the freed arm of Holden, which he clutchedwith the tenacity of despair. The Indian had now recovered from thestunning effect of the fall, and become sensible of his danger. Inrolling over the edge of the rock, his moccasined feet had come intocontact with a slight projection where his toes had caught, and bymeans of which, Holden, as well as himself, was relieved in part ofthe weight of his person. Using this as a support, he made repeatedand frantic attempts to spring to the level surface, but the steepnessof the rock, and the lowness at which he hung, combined with theexhaustion occasioned by the fierce and prolonged conflict, foiledevery effort. At last, he abandoned the attempt to save himself ashopeless, and directed all his exertions to drag his enemy downwith him to destruction. With this view, he strained, with all hisremaining strength, upon the arm he grasped, in order to force Holdento let go his hold upon the tree. It was now a question of endurancebetween them, and it is probable that both would have perished, hadnot an unexpected actor appeared upon the scene.
The boy Quadaquina had been watching Ohquamehud. Like a trainedblood-hound, he had kept faithfully on the track and scarcely let theIndian out of sight until he, came near the village. Here he was metby a playmate, with whom, like a child as he was, he stopped to amusehimself for a moment. This was the cause of his not arriving sooner,the delay corresponding nearly with the time Holden was detained byhis visit. The boy now came running up, all out of breath, and gazedaround, but saw no one nor heard a sound, save the roar of the Fall.His eyes fell upon the gun of the Indian, and the cap of the Solitary,lying on the trampled turf, and his mind foreboded disaster. Hehastened to the margin of the beetling crag, and peering over it, sawOhquamehud hanging by Holden's arm, and struggling to pull him down.Quadaquina stepped back, and from the loose stones lying round, pickedup one as large as he could lift, and going to the edge, dropped itfull upon the head of Ohquamehud. The Indian instantly let go hishold, falling a distance of eighty feet, and grazing against the sideof the huge rock on his way, until with a splash he was swallowed upin the foaming water that whirled him out of sight.
Quadaquina watched the body as it went gliding down the rocks, anddashing into the torrent, until it could be seen no more, and then,as if terrified at his own act, and without waiting to see what hadbecome of the man to whom he had rendered so timely a service, startedon a run for his home.
As for Holden, upon the weight being withdrawn from his arm, he slowlygathered himself up and sat upright on the rock; nor did he knowto what he owed his deliverance. He possibly ascribed it to theexhaustion of his foe. He felt jar'd and bruised, but no bones werebroken: his heart swelled with thankfulness, and raising his eyes toheaven, he poured forth a thanksgiving.
"The enemy came against me," he ejaculated, "like a lion that isgreedy of his prey, and as it were a young lion lurking in secretplaces. But thou didst arise, O Lord, thou didst disappoint him andcast him down; thou didst deliver my soul from the wicked. For thoudidst gird me with strength unto the battle, thou didst enlarge mysteps under me, that my feet did not slip. He was wounded that he wasnot able to rise. He fell under my feet. It was Thy doing, O Lord,because thou hadst respect unto the supplications of thy servant.Therefore my lips shall greatly rejoice, when I sing unto Thee, and mysoul which thou hast redeemed."
After this expression of his thanks, he clambered with somedifficulty, by the assistance of the shrubs that grew in the crevicesalong the sloping platform, until he had attained to the top of therock whence he had fallen. He cast his eyes below, but nothing was tobe seen but the wild torrent: no sign, no trace of the Indian. Holdenshuddered as he thought of Ohquamehud, cut off in his atrociousattempt, and breathed a prayer that his savage ignorance mightpalliate his crime; then exhausted and sore, and pondering thefrightful danger he had escaped, slowly took his way towards thevillage.
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