Chapter 15

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods.

CHILDE HAROLD.

When Arundel awoke after that fierce night, Sassacus had already left his couch and was preparing their breakfast. The young man stepped to the door-way of the lodge, and looked out upon the sylvan scene.

Nothing to remind of what had occurred was visible. A shower had fallen at daylight, and obliterated all traces of violence. The rays of the early sun were shining in the rain drops glistening on the leaves or falling in showers to the ground, as the branches were agitated by the breeze, or shaken by a bird flying from one perch to another. No sounds other than those made by the feathered musicians, or the rattling drops, disturbed the tranquillity of the forest. After gazing round a few moments, while the contrast betwixt the serenity of Nature and the passions of man forced itself on his mind, he threw himself down by his red friend, and together they shared the morning repast. The curiosity of Arundel induced him to inquire, what had become of the Indians, who had rendered so timely a service the night before.

"The breath of Sassacus," replied the chief, "called them out of the ground, and his breath bade them depart. My brother will forget what he saw in the dark. It will be to him like a dream."

Arundel understood by this, that he was desired to be silent respecting what had happened, and indeed no caution was necessary. He, therefore, said, in answer:

"None shall know the exploits of Sassacus till he tells them himself."

"If Soog-u-gest asks, my brother may tell. He and Sassacus lie under one skin."

Thus betrayed itself the simple vanity of the savage, who, with all his caution, was unwilling that his prowess should remain concealed; yet preferred its announcement from some tongue other than his own. It was the first intimation to Arundel that the Knight and chief were acquainted, though Sassacus had once before spoken of Sir Christopher. But the words of the Pequot implied more, viz: that an intimacy existed between them, and this stimulated his curiosity. The anxiety of Sir Christopher that the Indian should be warned of the danger which threatened him, was now explained. They were friends, but why should the Knight conceal the fact?

"Has my brother been long acquainted with Soog-u-gest," inquired Arundel.

"Ne-ka-tunch nee-zusts," (six moons), replied the Indian, holding up six fingers.

"Will the chief tell me what he pleases about him?" said the young man, whose ingenuous nature revolted at any attempt by insidious questions to extract from the savage a knowledge which he desired to conceal. It appeared unworthy of himself, and a wrong to both his friends. "I know little of Soog-u-gest, and would like to learn more."

The fine, bold face of the Indian looked pleased at the frankness of Arundel, and, it is probable, that he was more communicative than if he had been adroitly questioned. His native subtlety might then have taken alarm, and cunning been met by cunning. But Sassacus felt no desire, on his own account, for concealment. The two young men had been strongly attached to each other from the first, and on the side of the Indian, at least, was springing up a friendship for the other, more like that which Plato celebrates among the Greeks, or Cicero dilates upon, than the feeling of modern times.

"Listen, my brother," said the chief. "It is more than six moons since Soog-u-gest came into the woods. Sassacus was laughing when he said that six moons only had lighted the path betwixt him and Soog-u-gest, but he is not laughing now. The white chief built his wigwam in the woods because he loves the Indians and the sound of their language, and Sassacus loves him for that reason, and because he has sat in the lodge on the pleasant bank of the Pequot river, and ate venison with Sassacus from the same fire. All Indians love to hear him tell how great and happy they might be. He knows more of the tribes than any other white man, and has been far toward the setting sun, even beyond the country of the Maquas. Soog-u-gest is very wise, and his eyes pierce far into the darkness. And now let my brother bend down his head, so that not one of my words may be lost. Soog-u-gest has promised to teach the Indians to become wise and powerful like the white men. Perhaps now that my brother knows that, he will help."

"But Governor Winthrop and the ministers will teach all that can be taught you, and so will all the English."

"My brother is mistaken," said Sassacus, earnestly. "Sachem Winthrop's men are jealous of their great Manito, and do not wish to teach the Indians how to talk with him, lest he should like us better than themselves. Now, we want to know how to talk with the Manito who instructed them in so many things. If they are good for Owanux, they may be good for us too."

"Certain am I, Sassacus," said Arundel, "nothing would delight the noble heart of the Governor more than to have you Christians."

"Sassacus wishes not to be a Christian. He was born an Indian, and will live and die true to the traditions of his race. Christian is good for Owanux, but is very bad for the red men. The beavers build dams in the streams, while the eagle flies among the clouds. The English are beavers, but Sassacus is an eagle."

"But how can you attain to the knowledge of the white men, without becoming like them?"

"My brother must not be angry when Sassacus says, that is a pappoose question. See! I can teach my brother to make bows and shoot arrows. Can he not instruct Sassacus how to make guns, and the little black seeds which cause the lightning?"

"That is not so easy as thou thinkest. I know not myself how to make guns, and the powder which thou callest seeds."

"Toh!" replied the Indian, shaking his head, "my brother is afraid Sassacus might hurt himself with the lightning."

"Why should the chief doubt my word? I tell thee that only certain men among us make guns. They are all brought from a great island beyond the sea."

"The English are very cunning. They make them in secret, so that the Indians may not learn."

"It grieves me that my friend thinks I speak to him with two tongues. But I will not be offended. Are we not brothers?"

"When my brother loves Sassacus more he will tell him all about these things, and they will then have one head and one heart."

"They both belong to Sassacus now. But what does he intend to do? Will he return with me to Boston?"

"Let my brother go to Shawmut, and if there is any danger he will let me know, Sassacus will remain."

"You judge rightly. There were peril in showing thyself there now. But how shall I find thee again?"

"When my brother journeys in the forest, and would see Sassacus, let him make a noise like the Gues-ques-kes-cha, and Sassacus, or one of his sanops will find him." He whistled the peculiar note of the bird, (the robin,) and smiled at the awkward imitation of Arundel.

"Good for Indian. My sanops, when they hear, will know who is the Gues-ques-kes-cha."

Thus parted the two friends. As Arundel pursued his lonely way, he kept running over in his mind the events of the day before, and of the past night. He admired the sagacity and courage of the Pequot Sachem, who, assisted either by his own men, or friendly Aberginians, had been able to take a bloody revenge for the attempt on his life. But no satisfactory reason occurred to him why the body of Pieskaret should have been fastened to the raft. It seemed a wanton act of bravado, which he could not reconcile with the known qualities of Sassacus. Concealment and not exposure, he thought, should have been the policy, but on the contrary, the very course had been adopted most likely to lead to discovery. Why again, he thought, is the chief of a distant tribe lurking in these woods? He surely can cherish no evil design against the colony, for there is no misunderstanding betwixt the English and the Pequots.

His thoughts then dwelt upon the Knight, and upon his connection with the savage. Who was this man, who, in the flower of his age, and with all the accomplishments of a gentleman, chose to retire from the world, and with his sad companion, immure himself in the woods? He was no sour anchorite, who regarded with displeasure the innocent enjoyments of life, nor did he appear to be an unprincipled adventurer, who had fled from restraint in the old world, in order to give license to his passions in the new. He was evidently a man of consideration in the colony. He was treated with attention by all, courted by the whites, and held in high estimation by the Indians. That such a man as Sir Christopher Gardiner should adopt that wild life of seclusion, did not indeed strike the mind of Arundel with the degree of surprise wherewith our own are affected, for it was a time of adventure and romance; the poetry of life was not bound up principally in books, but was acted out in deeds; and the occurrence of daily wonders, while it destroyed their singularity, abated curiosity on their account. Hence men expressed no astonishment at the course of life of the Knight; hence, when Arundel became acquainted with him, he felt none, and it was only upon more intimate acquaintance--after Sir Christopher began to take an interest in him; after he had noted the influence exercised by the Knight over the ambassadors; and after he had discovered, as he supposed, a community of aims betwixt the Knight and Sassacus, that his curiosity awoke. To judge from the communication of the Indian chief, it would seem as if the Knight were a sort of missionary among the natives, to teach them the arts and practices of civilized life; but nothing that Arundel himself had noticed, justified any such suspicion. All he knew of Sir Christopher was, that he was passionately fond of the chase, which frequently led him deep into the forest, and had been known in some instances to detain him several days away from home.

As for the pale lady who, always clothed in black, appeared to be devoured by some secret sorrow, and whom the Knight called his cousin, it did not seem at all strange that she should love retirement, to indulge the sad luxury of grief. A bruised heart loves darkness and silence.

The conclusion to which Arundel came was, that it was partly affection for his fair cousin, and partly a love of adventure, which had brought Sir Christopher for a season to America, and that his kindness to the Indians, and familiarity with them, had induced Sassacus, and perhaps others, to indulge hopes as wild and improbable of execution, as their ignorance was boundless. Pursuing these meditations, he proceeded on to the settlement, and arrived at the wharf, whither he was attracted by the little crowd a short time after the departure of the Taranteens, who were still in sight.

It was at the moment when the Knight was about to part from the deputy Governor, that the young man came up. He remarked the disturbed countenance of the latter; but that of the former, whatever he felt, betrayed no emotion.

"Young sir," said Dudley, "I have not seen thee for a long time. How continues Master Arundel to like the new world?"

"Indifferently well," replied Arundel. "Of every land, new or old, something favorable may be said."

"I observe thou dost hanker after the flesh pots of Egypt, and art lean in the midst of abundance. It is because thou lackest those views of truth, and that sustaining faith which can make all trials welcome for their sake."

"Methinks," said the Knight, with a smile, "that the fair rosy cheeks, and rounded limbs of our young friend, indicate no want of the reasonable comforts of life."

"I doubt not," said the rough Dudley, without heeding the observation, "that to them who come hither through an idle curiosity, or for wanton pastime, or for purposes still more unworthy, this fair land possesses only temporary attractions; but for those who, with faith in the promises, have cast in their lot with the people of God, it is the land of promise. Here from altars unpolluted by the abominations of Rome, and free from the besotted mimicry of the Church of England, so called, shall ascend hosannas from the Church and the armies of Israel. Here, into the congregation, shall enter nothing that telleth a lie, or causeth to offend."

He bowed formally, and involuntarily grasping with his left hand the sword that hung at his side, departed.

"Rude, unjust, fanatical, I had almost said blasphemous," exclaimed the Knight, looking after him. "Ungracious Dudley! success crown all thy plans, whereon the true church shall indeed set her seal, and confounded be the devices of her enemies."

"Softly," with no heightened color, with no elevation of the voice, with eyes turned up to heaven as if he were uttering a benediction, spoke Sir Christopher. "And now, Master Arundel," he inquired, taking the young man's arm, "hast found Sassacus?"

Arundel did not hesitate, after the permission given by the Indian, which rightly seemed more like a request, to acquaint his friend with the adventures of the night. Sir Christopher listened attentively, making no comment till the narrative was concluded. He then said:

"The mystery of the morning is explained." And now, in his turn, he related the discovery of the dead body and the indignation of the Indians, and pointed to their canoes fading in the distance.

"The circumstances," he added, "in which we have obtained knowledge of the secret locks it per force in our breasts; and, besides, Sassacus is faultless, having only protected thy life and saved his own, which is an additional reason. But, aside from these considerations, I see not how the disclosure could be attended with any advantage. The chief hath not shown himself hostile, or done aught to make himself amenable to our jurisdiction. Were the story to get wind, it could only excite more the revengeful feeling of the Taranteens and the ill-will of malignant spirits among us, who, through the Pequot, have been disappointed in expectations of trade."

There was no difference of opinion between the two, and it was understood that they should be silent on the subject.

"Master Spikeman," said the Knight, addressing the Assistant who now met them, "it is a pity we had not the benefit of thy prudent counsels in a matter that hath just happened; yet do I trust that our conduct will be approved by thy better judgment."

"Sir Christopher Gardiner stands in no need of the sanction of my poor opinion for anything it may please him to do," answered Spikeman. "But resolve me your riddle."

"Know you not that the ambassadors have left in anger?"

"I know it, and the knowledge fills me with foreboding sorrow."

"Whether we should have detained or allowed them to depart in their present frame of mind, is the question which I would submit to thy decision?"

"I presume not to arraign any conclusion, whereunto either the worshipful deputy or Sir Christopher Gardiner may arrive. Doubtless, they acted after grave consideration."

"Yet, being asked, tell me, with thy usual candor, Master Spikeman, what you yourself would have done in like circumstances?"

The Assistant saw the snare, and determined that the Knight should derive no advantage from the question. He perceived that the object was to estop, by his admissions, any objections to the course pursued in permitting the Taranteens to leave, which he might afterwards be disposed to make. He, therefore, replied:

"Never be it said that I officiously obtruded an opinion; but, Sir Christopher, thus urged, I confess that it had better pleased me had the savages been detained. Opportunity might then have been afforded to disabuse their ignorance and convince them of our innocence."

"I will not say thou art in the wrong, but if the excellent Dudley erred, it is a strange departure from his ordinary admirable judgment."

"I pray thee to understand that I impugn not the action of the judicious Deputy Governor; but wherefore gave you not--you who are so well acquainted with the nature of these heathens--advice to stop them for the present?"

"And how know you I gave it not? But truly, Master Spikeman, I did not. I trust I am not forward to speak before princes. For what saith Holy Scripture: 'Even a fool, when he holdeth his peace, is counted wise; and he that shutteth his lips is esteemed a man of understanding.' Yet had I seen any imminent danger from allowing the departure of the savages, believe me I had spoken, even at the risk of incurring the dishonor to see my counsel rejected."

"It is evident, Sir Christopher, that you have grave doubts on the subject. Now, methinks, it had been well to remember (casting aside, as an inconvenient garment, these scruples) what the wise king of Israel also said, in another place: 'Where no counsel is, the people fall; but in the multitude of counsellors there is safety.'"

"It pains me," answered the Knight, whose courtesy increased with the other's coldness, "not to obtain thine approval. But, Master Spikeman, now that we are alone, (for Arundel, at the very beginning of the conversation, without greeting, or in any wise noticing, the Assistant, had passed on and was out of sight), I avail myself of the good chance to avow my anxious desire to secure thy friendship."

"If such truly be the wish of Sir Christopher Gardiner," returned the Assistant, "it is a thing easy to be compassed."

The countenance of the Knight lighted up, as he replied, "I rejoice greatly at thy words."

"But," continued Spikeman, "I am a man of deeds and not of words. I will be plain with you, Sir Christopher, and show you that it is no fault of mine that I have been unable (however much desiring it) to look upon you as a well wisher of mine, but your own. Have you not interfered in favor of, and harbored, that Philip Joy, convicted of contumelious language against the magistrates and elders, and whom, I have reason to believe, is specially evil-disposed toward myself; and are you not now in open familiarity with, and a supporter of this young man, who but just now parted from you; who deigned not, even by a look, to notice me; and whose business here seems to be to scatter reports intended to work detriment to my character? It is conduct like this which hath separated us one from the other."

"Master Spikeman," said the Knight, deprecatingly, "the relation wherein I stand to Philip is of public notoriety, and, therefore, cannot be unknown to you; and, meseems, is sufficient to excuse the slight favor I show him. Yet, herein will I approve myself loyal unto my regard for thee. I believe thou errest in ascribing an evil intent on the part of Philip, but if he cherish any such, I will take order with him, which shall redound to thy satisfaction. As for this Master Arundel, thou layest more stress upon a casual acquaintance with him than it deserves. I countenance him not. I attach no more consequence to what he may say than belongs to the prattle of a beardless boy. Wouldst have me rude to one who enlivens my solitude, being fresh with news from the old world, and who visits me only through a like love with myself of sylvan sports?"

"I presume not to dictate to Sir Christopher Gardiner," said Spikeman, coldly, "who shall be his associates, or what course in any respect he shall pursue. You will remember that your exculpation (such as it is) was volunteered by yourself."

The eyes of the Knight fell to the ground at this ungracious reply, so that his resentment, if he felt any, was hid under their drooping lids. A faint suffusion passed over his face, but after the pause of a moment, he extended his hand with a smile, while he said:

"I will find means to dissipate this delusive cloud that interposes itself betwixt us. Meanwhile, accept my hand, in token that, however changed thyself, I remain the same."

It was impossible to refuse to take the hand so offered, but it was with no cordial grasp the Assistant received it: and the two parted with feelings of aversion to one another, strengthened by the interview.