Chapter 14

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 the object of the search. It turned out to be an Indian, being no other than the warrior Pieskaret, whose corpse the wily Sassacus had committed to the river Charles, wearing the unshorn honors of his scalp, in order to avert suspicion from himself, and fix it on the whites. For rightly did the sagacious chief judge that no Taranteen could be induced to believe that an Indian would forbear to possess himself, if he were able, of the coveted prize, especially that of so mighty a warrior as Pieskaret. And with regard to the Pequot in particular, he, of all, after the provocation of yesterday, would be the last, if he had slain Pieskaret, to be supposed capable of an act of so great self-denial.

The sailors found the Taranteens around the raft, and pushing it ashore, In spite of the remonstrances of the savages, which the white men did not half understand, they unlashed the body from the boughs, and taking it into the boat, pulled for the land, closely followed by the swimmers. As they approached the vessel, they were ordered by Dudley to take it to the wharf, and he and the Knight, followed by the natives, descended the side, and advanced to the spot where the boat was to land. Here, when they arrived, a considerable group of persons had collected, and were examining the corpse.

So short a time had passed since the breath left the body, that it still looked fresh and life-like. There, extended on the sand, lay the strong, bold man, who but a day before had boasted of his prowess, and of the terror of his name; now a dog might insult him with impunity. A deep wound gaped upon his breast, and the water had not washed all the clotted blood from his head. His countenance wore a look of deadly ferocity, and it was evident that he had died as a brave man should, with his face to the foe.

The Taranteens, after the first burst of feeling, looked on in gloomy silence, and began to cast glances of distrust and apprehension around. The scalp-lock of Pieskaret was untouched. He had fallen then in no conflict with Indians. His companions had escaped with the body, and launched it on the water in order to apprise them of what had happened, and of their own danger. In low tones they addressed each other, and drew aside for consultation.

Meanwhile a thousand comments were made by the bystanders. A cloud rested on the weather-beaten face of Dudley, and over the whole group, except the Knight, whose equanimity no circumstance seemed able to disturb.

"I suspected mischief," said Dudley to the Knight, "when this morning, only half the number of the savages presented themselves; and now doth it pass my understanding how this miserable wretch lost his life."

"It is seldom that a brawl disturbs our peaceful settlement," said Sir Christopher, "and I have heard of none during the night. Has your worship obtained knowledge of any such?"

"Of none. And now will great scandal, and even infamy rest on us, by reason of this most untoward event, I fear me that our position with reference to these Taranteens will be worse than it was before, and that now they will be converted from indifferent neighbors into relentless enemies, unless we discover and deliver up to them the murderer, and even that will hardly restore confidence."

"Nor can we say that the man was murdered. It is hard to get a limit to the unbridled passions of savages; and it may be that it was in self-defence, or in the endeavor to prevent some other grievous wrong, that whosoever killed him took his life."

"A mystery doth enshroud the affair. Where lost the man his life, and by whose hand, and for what cause? It could not be where they camped in the night. We heard no disturbance, no signs of violence are to be seen, and the other Indians would have known. If Indians killed him, why took they not his scalp, and why set they him floating on the water? Herein it looks like the foolish prank of drunken sailors. But then what cause of such enmity could there be? for all was done very quietly. And what has become of the missing Taranteens? Are they too killed, or in the forest on their way home? Has Sassacus any hand in this matter? Be it as it may, the bold partizan of the Pequots must be looked after."

"It is as thou sayest, hard to determine," answered the Knight; "but if Indians were concerned in this most lamentable deed, strange has been their conduct. Such truly is not the customary manner of the natives to dispose of their enemies. Wonderful forbearance indeed, and disregard of the traditions and superstitions of the tribes must it require, to allow an enemy, when it can be prevented, to step upon the happy hunting grounds, bearing the unviolated honors of his head."

"It may be," replied Dudley, "that his foes were unable to tear away the bloody trophy; that before they could do so his body was rescued by his companions."

"But how account for his being launched upon the deep? Is this an Indian mode of disposing of friends?"

"My mind is as perplexed as thine. I will consider the thing more maturely hereafter. Thou knowest their heathen tongue. Step forward, may it please thee, and try to calm their irritated spirits, assuring them of our friendship and grief at what we cannot explain."

Thus requested, the Knight advanced, and commenced a speech to the savages, to which they listened in moody silence. What he said was of course unintelligible to all except the Indians, but it appeared not to produce a favorable impression. No sound, whether of approval or the contrary, escaped their lips, as, surrounding the corpse of their companion, they regarded it with ominous brows, until the Knight concluded, when an Indian addressed him in reply.

"How hast thou prevailed?" inquired Dudley, when the Taranteen stopped.

"Alas!" replied Sir Christopher, "no representations which I can make are sufficient to soothe their exasperation or allay their suspicions."

"Ask them," said Dudley, "after their other companions."

A howl of rage, and a few rapid words, were the return to the inquiry.

"What means that?" said the Deputy Governor.

"They say that they suppose they are following the footsteps of Pieskaret."

"If such be their belief, then farewell to any treaty or relations of amity with them. They will soon turn their backs upon both our hospitality and friendship."

The words of the Deputy Governor were indeed prophetic, for the Taranteens, now stooping down, raised their friends' corpse from the ground, and bearing it in their arms, proceeded to their canoes, which were lying at a little distance on the beach. In one of them (not without efforts on the part of the whites to induce them to change their determination) they deposited the body, and covering it with skins, took their paddles into their hands and pushed from the shore.

"They are gone," said Dudley, as they receded from view; "and many a weeping wife and mother may rue this miserable day. Better that the tawny heathen had remained in their trackless forests, listening to the deluding lies of the French emissaries, than come hither as spies upon our condition, and to take advantage of our supposed weakness."

"Is it possible," inquired the Knight, "that thou believest not in the sincerity of the professions of peace made by these poor savages?"

"I trust them not," answered the suspicious Dudley. They are of the seed of the serpent; and as well might one expect light from the caverns of the earth, as fidelity and truth from Indians."

"I pray thee, be not so harsh of judgment," said Sir Christopher. "I have some knowledge of the tribes, and have observed that they are ever mindful of favor, however studious of revenge; nor is it their wont, without provocation, to break their word. Canst thou say that the Taranteens have departed without seeming justification?"

"I suspect that these savages know more of the fate of their companions, and of the cause of the death of this Pieskaret than they choose to disclose. The longer my mind broods over the subject, the more am I convinced that, without fault on their part, they would not have drawn upon themselves destruction."

But this was a view of the case which seemed to find no favor with Sir Christopher. With a courtly grace and insinuating address, without contradicting the other, but rather by the recital of acts of generosity and evidences of nobleness of spirit which had fallen under his own observation among the Indians, he endeavored to dispose the Deputy Governor to a milder judgment. But the prejudices of Dudley were too deeply rooted to be removed by persuasive manners, or tales however skilfully framed.

The unfortunate result of the embassy was deeply regretted by the colonists. They had looked forward to it as a means of increasing their security, and establishing a trade from which they hoped to derive large profits. They must now renounce both expectations. Henceforth their cabins were to be guarded with greater vigilance than ever, and the courted trade was to remain monopolized by the French. Moreover, the evil would probably not end there, but distrust and apprehension spread among the tribes; and if such a feeling were to become universal, and a general union be the consequence, the condition of the colony might become one of extreme danger. The character which the whites would then sustain would be that of men disregardful of the most sacred obligations; of wretches who, after offering the rights hospitality, had taken advantage of the unsuspecting confidence of their guests to murder them. It was true, that the whole twelve ambassadors might have been destroyed, and a part were suffered to leave; but it was feared that the undiscriminating minds of the savages might not give proper weight to the consideration, or might ascribe it to some policy which was the more dreadful because so mysterious. It was seen now how great had been the mistake in permitting Sassacus, the terrible chief of the Pequots, the most dreaded and implacable foe of the Taranteens, to be present at the council. Him the Taranteens had seen in apparent good understanding with the English, and been made the subject of his taunts in their presence. Might they not justly consider this a strange way of courting an alliance? True, the English knew not that Waqua was Sassacus, but would the Indians believe it? Nor had they known, until the interpreter explained, and until it was too late to seize the offender, what he had uttered; but would the Taranteens, amid the excitement of feeling mourning over the loss of friends, much regard that?