The Knight Of The Golden Melice, John Turvill Adams [the reading list TXT] 📗

Derogatory To His Honor, And Besides, His Curiosity

Was Stimulated To Witness The Conduct Of The Savage, And He Therefore

Answered With Some Asperity-- 

 

 

"For What Does The Chief Take Me? Am I A Deer To Be Frightened At The

Whizzing Of An Arrow, Or The Sight Of A Tomahawk?"

  

 

"Sassacus Would Be Grieved Should His Brother Lose His Scalp."

 

 

"No More. Where The Chief Is I Will Be. I Am A Warrior As Well As

Sassacus," Replied The Young Man, Beginning To Retrace His Steps.

  

 

"It Is Well," Said The Indian, Following After Him; But When The

Pequots Go To War In The Night They Make No Noise. My Brother Must Not

Make Thunder (And He Touched The Gun).

 

  

"As Thou Wilt. I Have My Dagger."

 

 

"It Is Enough. Sassacus Is A Great Chief, And My Brother Will Obey Him

For One Night."

 

  

"In All Things, Save Deserting Thee."

  

 

"Let My Brother Come, Then," Said The Chief; "The Arrows Of The

Taranteens Shall Pierce My Bosom Before They Reach His." 

 

 

The Two Now Returned Together, And Upon Re-Entering The Wigwam,

Sassacus Again Invited Arundel To Repose, But Not Before He Had

Removed The Skins On Which His Guest Had Been Lying, Into The Back

Part Of The Lodge, While He Made His Own Couch Near The Entrance.

Determined To See The Adventure, If There Was To Be One, To Its

Termination, Arundel Laid Himself Down To Wait For What Should Happen,

While The Chief Stretched Himself Out, With His Face To The Opening.

Some Brands Were Smouldering In The Ashes, And They Threw An Obscure

Light Into The Wigwam.

 

  

As They Were Thus Lying, Arundel Thought That He Could Hear Once In A

While A Faint Rustling, But Whence It Proceeded He Was Unable, With

All His Attention, To Discover, And At Last Concluded It Was Caused By

The Wind Among Dry Leaves.

  

 

He Had Now Become So Accustomed To This State Of Things, That The

Anxieties Which He Felt In The First Part Of The Night Were Gone, And

He Began To Fancy That The Expectation Of Sassacus Was Unfounded. The

Face Of The Chief Was Turned Away, So That It Was Impossible To

Determine Whether He Were Sleeping Or Not; From The Manner Of His

Breathing, However, Arundel Judged That He Was Awake. But Suddenly The

Respirations Became Long And Deep, And He Exhibited The Indications Of

A Profound Slumber. An Instant Afterwards Arundel, Whose Eyes Were

Constantly Turned To The Opening, Beheld The Face Of An Indian Peering

In. His First Impulse Was To Cry Out, But Before He Could Make A

Sound, He Saw A Naked Arm Emerge From Behind Some Skins Which Hung

From The Upper Part Of The Lodge Quite Down To The Ground, And Bury A

Tomahawk In The Head Of The Intruder, Who Fell Dead Upon The Spot. At

The Same Instant, The Dreadful War-Whoop Rung Through The Air, And The

Chief Leaping To His Feet, And Accompanied By The Warrior, Who Had

Been Concealed, The Two Sprung Into The Open Space In Front. Arundel

Too, Hastened After Them. In The Star-Light No Objects Were Clearly

Discernible, But Dark Figures Could Be Dimly Seen, Engaged In Hand To

Hand Contests, And The Cracking Of Dry Branches Under Trampling Feet

Could Be Heard. These Sounds Were Mingled With Thick Panting Breaths,

And Occasionally The Fall Of A Body On The Ground. They Lasted But A

Few Moments, And Then A Silence Succeeded, As Deep As If No Living

Thing Were In The Forest. As The Eyes Of Arundel Became More

Accustomed To The Darkness, He Beheld A Tall Form Near By, Which He

Recognized For That Of Sassacus, And Immediately Approached Him.

  

 

The Chief Was Standing Near The Body Of A Huge Indian, Who Was Lying

Prostrate On The Earth. He Was In The Last Agonies Of Death, And While

Arundel Was Looking On, The Sinewy Limbs Quivered Into Immobility. Nor

Had Sassacus Escaped Without A Wound. The Blood Was Streaming From A

Gash In His Side, Indistinctly Seen By Light From The Fire, But He

Paid No Heed To It, And The Result Proved It Not To Be Dangerous.

  

 

When The Dusky Warrior Had Breathed His Last, The Chief Uttered A

Peculiar Cry, And Immediately Half A Dozen Stalwart Men, Several Of

Whom Had Each A Fresh Scalp Hanging At His Girdle, Surrounded Him. He

Addressed Them In Their Own Language, And From His Gestures, And The

Looks Of His Companions, Arundel Supposed That He Was Speaking Of Him.

He Next Pointed To The Dead Body, And Seemed To Be Giving Orders

Concerning It. One Of The Indians Stooped Down, And With His Knife

Made A Motion As If To Take Off The Scalp, But Being Rebuked By The

Chief, He Desisted, And Then Lent His Assistance To Two Others In

Bearing Away The Corpse. Arundel Had The Curiosity To Follow. The

Three Bore The Body To The Bank Of The River, Where, Binding It With

Withes To Several Large Limbs Of Trees, They Thrust It Into The

Stream, And Left It To Find Its Way To The Ocean. A Few Earnest Words,

Unintelligible To The Young Man, Were On Their Return Spoken By

Sassacus, Who Had Meanwhile Had A Styptic Applied To His Wound. When

He Had Finished Speaking, The Indians Dispersed In Various Directions

In The Depths Of The Dark Wood, And The Chief Beckoning To His Friend,

They Entered The Wigwam, And Disposed Themselves To Sleep, Which

Delayed Not Long To Close Their Eye-Lids.

 

Chapter XIV (They Spake Not A Word, But Like Dumb Statues, Or Breathless Stones, Star'd On Each Other.)

 

 

 

 Shakspeare.

 

 

The Time Fixed For The Audience Of The Ambassadors On The Next Day,

Was In The Afternoon Instead Of The Morning, That All Things Might Be

Done With Dignity, And An Opportunity Afforded To Show Them The Fort

Erected Near The Water, And The Shipping, And Whatever Else Might

Impress Them With The Power Of The Whites. With This View, The Indians

Had Been Committed To The Charge Of The Deputy Gov. Dudley, And Of Sir

Christopher Gardiner, The Latter Of Whom Acted As Interpreter. The Two

Gentlemen Accordingly Employed Themselves In The Course Of The

Forenoon, In Exhibiting To Their Red Friends Whatever Might, In Their

Judgment, Best Subserve The Object, And At The Moment We Meet Them,

Were Standing On The Deck Of The Ship Commanded By Capt. Sparhawk,

Which Lay Alongside Of The Wharf. Of The Dozen Indians Who Had Been At

The Audience On The Yesterday Only Seven Were Present, And They Were

All The Oldest. The Whole Group Appeared, To A Careless Observer,

Stolid And Unmoved By What They Saw; But One Who Watched Them Might

Notice That They Cast Inquisitive, Though Stolen Glances, On Every

Thing Around. Moreover, Upon Closer Examination, He Might Fancy An Air

Of Uneasiness Among Them, As Ever And Anon They Turned Their Eyes

Toward The Houses Of The Settlement, And The Forest That Lay Beyond.

  

 

The Jolly Capt. Sparhawk Was Endeavoring, To The Best Of His

Abilities, To Do The Honors Of His Vessel, Quite Unabashed By The

Presence Of Either Dudley Or Sir Christopher.

  

 

"What Will Ye Have To Drink, My Hearties?" He Cried, Slapping One Of

The Biggest Indians On The Shoulder, Who Merely Turned Round And

Stared At The Questioner. "To You, Gentlemen," He Said, Addressing

Dudley And The Knight, "I Can Offer Some Of Mounseer's, Or Don

Spaniard's Wine, Though To My Liking, Your Rosa Solis Is The Only

Drink Fit For A Man; And I Will Wager The Good Ship Rule Britannia

Against A Cock Boat That These Devils Will Say So Too."

  

 

"There Is No Need," Said Dudley, Roughly. "It Were To Obscure The

Little Intellect These Savages Have, With That Which Serves No

Purpose, Save To Convert Them Into Brutes."

  

 

The Knight's Reply Was More Courteous.

  

 

"At Another Time, Worthy Captain, It Were A Pleasure To Accept Thine

Invitation, But Bethink Thee That It Is Early In The Day."

 

 

"It Is Near Upon Twelve," Answered The Captain, Looking At The Sun,

"Or I Never Squinted Through A Quadrant; And May It Please Ye,

Governor, Wont Ye Let The Red Skins Speak For Themselves?"

 

 

"Nay," Said Dudley, "So Long As They Are Within My Charge, Nothing

Stronger Than Water Shall Pass Their Lips."

 

  

"But," Persisted The Captain, "If All I Hear On Shore Be True, I Take

It Ye Are Trying To Drive A Bargain With Them Imps. Now, Have Ye Never

Noticed That The Best Time To Trade With A Man Is When Half A Dozen

Glasses Have Warmed His Heart?"

 

  

"Peace," Said Dudley, "No More Of This. We Came To See The Ship And

Not To Trespass On Thy Mistaken Hospitality."

  

 

"The Lubberly Milksop!" Muttered The Captain Betwixt His Teeth. "But

What," He Added Aloud, "Are The Red Skins Looking At So Sharp Out To

Sea?"

  

 

While This Conversation Had Been Going On, The Attention Of The

Savages Had Been Arrested By An Object Floating On The Water. It Rose

And Fell On The Heaving Sea, At One Moment Visible, And At The Next

Hid From View. At First It Had Been Impossible To Say What It Was. It

Might Be A Spar, Or Plank, Or Any Part Of A Shipwrecked Vessel. The

Tide Was Coming In, And The Object Became More And More Distinct,

Until An Old Sailor, Whose Experienced Eyes Had Also Been Attracted

Sea-Ward, Exclaimed, 

 

 

"Captain, I'm A Green Hand, And Never Weathered The Cape, If There

Ben't A Man Lashed On Yon Spar."

  

 

"By St. George's Cross, But I Believe Thou Art Right, Dick Spritsail,"

Cried The Captain. "It's Some Poor Fellow, I Warrant Me, Whose Ship

Has Gone Down, And Who Made A Raft To Try His Luck. Johnny Shark, Do

Ye See, Is No Pleasant Customer To Become Acquainted With, And So He

Took A Venture On The Spar For A Christian Burial, Instead Of Making

Jonah's Viage."

 

  

"It's No Christian," Replied Dick, "Unless The Waters In These

Latitudes Have The Faculty To Turn A Man Black."

  

 

The Sailor Had Hardly Pronounced The Last Words, When One Of The

Indians, Divesting Himself Of The Skin That Covered His Shoulders,

Leaped From The Side Of The Ship, And Swam In The Direction Of The

Object Which Had Attracted Their Attention. It Would Seem That His

Keen Eyes, Like Those Of The Sailor, Had Detected The Body, And That,

Unable To Repress His Curiosity, He Had Taken This Method To Satisfy

It. Amid The Loud And Wondering Exclamations Of The White Men, And The

Subdued Gutturals Of The Indians, Whose Straining Eyes Betrayed Their

Interest, The Swimmer, With Lusty Strokes, Breasted The Green Billows

As They Came Rolling Into The Bay. When He Reached The Floating Mass

He Carefully Examined It, And Then Raised A Wail Sadder Than The Cry

Of The Loon Over The Dark Waves, When It Anticipates The Coming Storm.

It Was Responded To By His Companions On Board The Ship, In A Yell Of

Mingled Rage And Grief, That Was Heard In All Parts Of The Village,

And Far Over The Water.

  

 

"What Possesses The Imps Now?" Cried The Captain, As Two More Indians,

Following The Example Of Their Tribesman, Plunged Into The Water. "I

Wonder What They Have Found?"

  

 

"Send A Boat After Them, Captain, If Thou Wilt Do Me A Pleasure," Said

Dudley, "It Seems To Be Something Wherein They Take A Great Interest,

And It Will Be Only Friendly To Furnish Them Assistance."

 

  

"O, Ho! Old Bear, Canst Growl Sweetly Enough An' It Suits Thy

Purpose," Said The Captain To Himself. "But It Shall Never Be Said

That Jack Sparhawk Was An Unmannerly Lubber. Halloo, Half A Dozen Of

Ye," He Cried Aloud, "Run Aft And Lower The Boat. Bear A Hand, Men;

Move Quick," He Added, As They Came Running From The Bow, Where They

Had Been Standing, Toward The Stern. "Jump In Bill," He Continued, As

The Keel Of The Yawl Touched The Water, "Take A Couple Of Men, Pull

After Them Red Skins, And Bring 'Em Ashore, With Whatever They Have

Found In The Offing."

  

 

In A Very Short Space Of Time The Boat Was Pulling Away Into The

Harbor, And Soon Reached