The Lost Hunter Part 26

"Do the Indians listen to what he says?" inquired Bernard.

"They listen; Indian always listen," said Esther, "and the wind blow the words through the ears."

"I suppose so," said the young man, laughing. "Holden may now truly call himself the voice of one crying in the wilderness, and a wilderness it is likely to remain."

There was something both in the manner and language that jarred the feelings of Faith, and she said:

"I will never give up the hope that these poor people may be Christianized. Do you not think, Esther, that there has been an improvement in the habits of the tribe within a few years?"

Esther hung down her head, and only answered, "Indian will be Indian."

"I will not despair," said Faith. "Be sure, Esther, you come to the house before you return. I have something for you, and a message for Father Holden.

"I can conceive of no character," said Faith, after they had parted from Esther, "more n.o.ble than that of the Christian missionary. He is the true redresser of wrongs, the only real knight that ever lived.

You smile," she said, looking at Bernard. "Do you not think so?"

"I think with you," he replied. "There can be no n.o.bler man than he who submits to privation, and exposes his life to danger through love to his fellow man. It is G.o.d-like. But I smiled at the a.s.sociation of ideas, and not at the sentiment. Think of Holden as a knight."

"To me there is nothing ludicrous in the thought. When I look at him, I see not the coa.r.s.e unusual dress, but the heroic soul, that would have battled valiantly by the side of G.o.dfrey for the holy sepulchre."

"I am afraid he will meet with only disappointment in his efforts to reform the Indians."

"We cannot know the result of any labor. We will do our duty, and leave the rest to G.o.d."

"They have not the degree of cultivation necessary to the reception of a religion so refined and spiritual as the Christian. They must first be educated up to it."

"But you would not, meanwhile, neglect the very thing for which they are educated. Religious instruction must be a part of the education, and it brings refinement with it."

"Certainly, if it can be received; but therein consists the difficulty. I am afraid it is as reasonable to expect a savage to apprehend the exalted truths of Christianity, as one unaquainted with geometry, the forty-ninth proposition of the first book of Euclid."

"The comparison is not just. Science demands pure intellect; but religion, both intellect and feeling, perhaps most of the latter.

The mind is susceptible of high cultivation, the heart feels instinctively, and that of a peasant may throb with purer feeling than a philosopher's and for that reason be more ready to receive religious truth. And who may limit the grace of G.o.d?"

"You have thought deeper on this subject than I, Faith. But how hard must it be for the rays of divine truth to pierce through the blackness of that degradation which civilization has entailed on them!

The conversion of the North American Indian was easier at the landing of the Pilgrims than now."

"The greater our duty," exclaimed Faith, clasping her hands, "to atone for the wrongs we have inflicted. But, William, some good has been done. Look at my dear, good Esther."

"Esther deserves your praise, I am sure, because you say it. But it is you that have made her good. She could not be with you, without being benefited."

"You are very kind, but no merit attaches to me. They were the precepts of Christianity that softened her heart, though she was always gentle."

"It was the sweetness of religion she heard in your voice, its kindness she read in your eyes, and its loveliness ill.u.s.trated in your life, that attracted and improved Esther"

"Were I to admit what you say, the credit would, after all, belong to religion."

The sun had nearly reached his meridian, as the young couple approached the house of Mr. Armstrong. What a change had been produced in a few hours! The warm suns.h.i.+ne, while it glorified the landscape had robbed it of its sparkling beauty. The trees no longer wore their silver armor; the branches, relieved of the unusual weight, had lost the graceful curves and resumed their original positions; white blossoms no longer bedecked the evergreens; and all around, large drops were falling, as if lamenting the pa.s.sing away of the short-lived magnificence.

On parting from Bernard, at her father's door, Faith reminded him of his promise, and invited him and Anne to tea with her in the evening.

Bernard accepted the invitation for himself, and conditionally for his sister.

CHAPTER XXII.

"O nymph, with loosely flowing hair, With buskined leg, and bosom bare, Thy waist with myrtle girdle bound, Thy brow with Indian feathers crowned, Waving in thy snowy hand An all-commanding magic wand Of power, to bid fresh gardens blow, Mid cheerless Lapland's barren snow!"

JOSEPH WARTON.

Bernard and his sister, on their arrival, found only Mr. Armstrong and his daughter, but were joined, in the course of the evening, by Pownal, at whose arrival all expressed pleasure. The whole company united with Miss Armstrong in requesting Bernard to read the legend, who, at last, produced the ma.n.u.script from his pocket.

"I must entreat your indulgence," he said, "for the defects of which the piece is full. The author is an inexperienced writer, and unable, like an accomplished hand, to atone by elegance of style for improbability or poverty of incident. You will expect no more than that he should observe the proprieties of his subject, nor require him to introduce into a tale of the children of Nature the refinement of language or delicacy of sentiment, to be met with in the modern romance. The stories of an uncivilized people must be rude, even approaching in simplicity tales designed for children."

"The writer could not have an audience more ready to be pleased," said Mr. Armstrong; "and are we not all children of various growths?"

"I do not believe any excuses are necessary," said Faith, "and am expecting a great deal of pleasure."

"The more extravagant, the better," cried Anne. "What can equal the Arabian Nights Entertainment?"

"We are all attention," said Pownal; "so whistle your apprehensions, Bernard, to the wind."

Thus encouraged, the young man opened his ma.n.u.script, and commenced reading.

THE LEGEND OF MAGISAUNIKWA AND LEELINAU.

Where the clear Sakimau mingles its waters with the great salt lake, which would be too salt, but for the innumerable rivers that pour themselves into its bosom, the mighty Aishkwagon-ai-bee, whose name, rendered into the language of the pale faces, is the 'Feather of Honor,' had erected his lodge. He was the war-chief of a tribe whose name is lost in the mists of antiquity. He boasted his descent from the great Ojeeg, of whom it is related that he opened a hole in the blue sky and let out the soft, warm air of Paradise, so that it poured down upon the earth, and bestowed summer upon a region before condemned to perpetual cold. He also liberated the singing-birds from the mocucks, or basket-cages, where they were confined, which, descending through the aperture, have since enlivened the woods and fields with their melodies. He was unable to return to this world, and may still be seen in the heavens, being changed into the stars called Ojeeg Annung, known to the wise men among the pale faces as the Constellation of the Plough.

Nor was Aishkwagon-ai-bee unworthy of his n.o.ble descent. The grandeur of his thoughts and the boldness of his achievements proved the purity of his blood. A skillful hunter, a successful warrior, equally renowned for wisdom in council and bravery in action, he enjoyed the highest consideration, not only in his own tribe, but as far as the great lakes to the North, and the river Delaware to the South. When he pointed to the beautiful scalps that adorned the sides of his wigwam, he could with truth say, there was not one of them but had graced the head of a warrior.

The Sachem had several children, sons and daughters, and among the latter, the lovely Leelinau was the darling of his heart. The maiden had attained the age of eighteen, and was the admiration of the youth for many days' journey round. Her cheeks were the color of the wild honey-suckle, her lips like strawberries, and the juice of the milk-weed was not whiter than her teeth. Her form was lith as the willow, her eyes sparkled like the morning star, her step was that of a bounding fawn, and her fingers were skilful in weaving the quills of the porcupine. What wonder if hearts both young and old beat quicker at her approach?

Many, it may well be supposed, were the offers of marriage made to the beautiful Leelinau. Innumerable were the legs of venison, and choice pieces of bear's meat, which the mothers of the young hunters presented for acceptance at her lodge, being careful to mention whose skill in the chase procured them, but in vain did they look for the bowl of succatash or embroidered moccasins--the products of woman's labor--in token that their gifts were pleasing to the coy beauty.

In vain, when the shades of evening fell, the softly breathed flute lamented in melancholy tones her cruelty. In vain, with tasteful hand, the sighing lover painted his face and person to heighten his attractions and draw attention. The insensible Leelinau relished not the venison or bear's meat, nor would she listen to the flute, or look often at the painted suitors.

Among her admirers none was more deeply smitten by the power of her charms nor cherished a truer love than Magisaunikwa or Wampum-hair, so called from the gentleness of his disposition and love of peace.

He was only a few years the senior of the maiden, and of an obscure family compared with that of the famous Aishkwagon-ai-bee. But love levels all distinctions, and, impelled by an influence he could not withstand, he dared to aspire to the hand of Leelinau. Besides, there was one superiority he enjoyed which made the claim less presumptuous.

Young as he was no hunter of the tribe could be compared with him in skill or daring. Other lodges might be dest.i.tute, but there was always abundance of meat in that of Magisaunikwa and those of his friends.

Happy, thought most of the girls, would she be who should lie in the bosom of the young hunter, and cook his food.

But notwithstanding his devotion, Leelinau would not accept his gifts.

Still he fancied he had made some impression. She would listen to his conversation by the light of the evening star, though whenever he hinted at his pa.s.sion, she would hastily retire; and twice or thrice he had caught her eyes fixed on him, when she thought herself un.o.bserved. Hope lives on scanty aliment, and the young man did not despair.

Aishkwagon-ai-bee had noticed the liking of Magisaunikwa for his daughter, and was not displeased. The n.o.ble youth had found favor in his eyes, and he did not disdain his alliance. There was only a single cause of hesitation in his mind. Wampum-hair had never been on a war-path, and had always shown a disinclination to shed human blood.

Yet his courage was undoubted. None encountered with more audacity the panther and the bear, and several were the lives he had saved at the hazard of his own. A successful war expedition only was necessary to complete his claims to the highest honors. Save the b.l.o.o.d.y scalp, no ornament was lacking in his wigwam.

"Magisaunikwa," said the Sachem, "the fire of your eyes melts not the snow around the heart of Leelinau, and it is because she looks upon your hands and sees they were never painted with the blood of an enemy."