CHAPTER XXIX WINNING A BATTLE, A WIFE, AND A FRIEND
Upon the advice of Massasoit, the Iroquois had set up dummies to draw the musket-fire of the enemy; also most of their young men had been placed in ambush outside the walls. These, though few in number as compared with the advancing host of Hurons, sprang to their feet with frightful yells and rushed towards the place marked by the smoke of the now empty muskets. They seemed doomed to certain destruction, and the Hurons calmly awaited their coming. All at once, and without warning, a flight of arrows from the rear brought a score of the invaders to the ground, and at the same moment the woods behind them seemed alive with yelling foemen.
For a few minutes the bewildered Hurons, thus entrapped, fought desperately. Then the three white men, who were objects of Massasoit's especial vengeance, were killed while hurriedly endeavoring to reload their muskets. As they fell their savage allies, who had until now regarded them as invincible, broke into a panic-stricken flight, each man endeavoring only to save himself. After them raced Massasoit and his warriors, together with the jubilant Iroquois, and many and fierce were the hand-to-hand conflicts that took place in the dim forest coverts that day. At its close, when the wearied but exultant victors gathered once more at the wildly rejoicing village, their trophies of scalps and prisoners outnumbered their combined forces.
The following week was devoted to the wildest forms of savage festivity, and the rejoicings were redoubled near its close by the arrival of a runner from the west, bringing the great news that the other invading force under Champlain had been defeated and driven back by the Onondagas and Oneidas.
In all this time of feasting Massasoit was the hero and central figure. Not only had he saved the Maqua village and probably the whole tribe from destruction, but, on that day of fighting, he had proved himself the foremost warrior of his people and had brought in more Huron scalps than any other.
He found no difficulty in forming a compact with the Iroquois on behalf of his own people, by which both were bound not to cross the Shatemuc except for friendly visits. Thus our young chieftain would have been supremely happy but for one thing, and that was his treatment at the hands of Aeana.
This girl, who now seemed the most beautiful and desirable of all earthly creatures, behaved to him in a manner so strange that he could in no wise account for it. Not only did she refuse to grant him an interview, but she studiously avoided meeting him, and went no longer with the other women to the stream for water. Thus he had not been able to exchange a single word with her, and as the time for his departure drew near he was in despair. In his distress he sought out Otshata, as he had done once before, and, pouring out his heart, asked her what he should do.
Otshata laughed in his face. "What fools men be!" she said. "Dost thou not remember, Massasoit, the time when she bade thee fetch water?"
"Well do I remember."
"And thou performed the service?"
"Truly, I did, even as she bade me."
"And she scorned the offering when it was brought to her?"
"Even so, and taunted me with the name of 'squaw.'"
"Remembering that, art thou still at a loss to know why she now refuses to meet thee?"
"To my confusion, I am," replied the puzzled youth.
At this Otshata laughed again long and heartily; but at length she asked,—
"Didst thou ever know a woman to accept friendship with a slave when a master might be had?"
Then, still laughing, she ran away, leaving the young man to ponder her words.
As a result of this conversation, Massasoit announced that he and his warriors would depart for their own country on the morrow, and at daylight of the next morning they had disappeared. That day Aeana, heavy-hearted and with lagging step, went with the other women for water. As she bent over the stream an exclamation from one of her companions caused her to look up and directly into the eyes of Massasoit, who stood on the opposite bank.
With a shrill cry of dismay, Aeana turned and fled towards the village; but, swiftly as she ran, Massasoit overtook her ere she had covered half the distance. Seizing her in his arms, he picked her up and, despite her struggles, bore her swiftly away. On the edge of the wood he paused to utter a far-carrying yell of triumph, and then, still bearing his precious burden, he disappeared amid the leafy shadows.
But his defiant challenge was answered, and half a dozen young Iroquois, all of whom were aspirants for the hand of the arrow-maker's beautiful daughter, dashed forth in hot pursuit. This race for a bride was over a forest course something more than a mile in length. At its farther end was the Shatemuc and a waiting canoe containing a single occupant. As Massasoit gained this and it was shoved off, the foremost of his pursuers was so close that he fell into the water in a vain effort to grasp the elusive craft.
Beyond the river the Iroquois might not pass by the terms of their recent treaty, and thus on its farther side, Massasoit felt his prize to be as secure as though he already had her at Montaup.
As they stepped out on the land that acknowledged the son of Longfeather to be its ruler, Aeana regarded the bold youth with eyes that laughed even through their tears, and said, "I hate you; but if you had not done it, then should I have despised you forever."
So Massasoit won his bride, and in far-away Montaup, beside the great salt waters that bathe the rising sun, no woman led a happier life than did the daughter of Kaweras.
After this several years were passed in peaceful content by those New England tribes owning the rule of Massasoit. With his superior knowledge of the world he was able to teach them many things that caused them to prosper as never before. Only was he worried by the Narragansetts, who, while sullenly admitting his authority, awaited eagerly an opportunity to renounce and defy it.
In the mean time Aeana had presented the Peacemaker with two sons, the younger of whom, named Metacomet, was to become famous in after-years as King Philip.
With all his peace and apparent security Massasoit had one ever-present fear, and it was of the white man. He had a knowledge greater than any of his people concerning the number and power of these dwellers beyond the sea, and he dreaded lest they should seek to obtain a foothold in his country, as they had already done both on the St. Lawrence and the James. As one measure of precaution against this he issued orders to every New England tribe that they should hold no intercourse with any whites attempting to trade on the coast. So determined was he to carry out this policy that when an unfortunate French trading vessel was wrecked on a shore of Massachusetts Bay, he caused her to be burned, and commanded that all survivors of her crew be put to death.
Holding these views, Massasoit became very angry when it was reported to him that the Narragansetts, in defiance of his authority, were actively trading with an English ship that had appeared on their coast, and he at once determined to make an example that should be remembered.
A runner was despatched to his trusted ally Sassacus, whose country lay beyond that of the Narragansetts, ordering the Pequots to advance from the west until they should meet Massasoit coming from the opposite direction. Then, gathering a strong force from the tribes near at hand, the Peacemaker set forth for the scene of unlawful trading.
So demoralized were the Narragansetts by the simultaneous appearance of two powerful war-parties within their borders that they offered only a slight resistance before fleeing to their palisaded stronghold, where they anxiously awaited the expected attack.
In the mean time the captain of the English vessel, which was snugly anchored in the mouth of a small river, where he had been carrying on a brisk and most profitable trade with the Indians, was disgusted to have it suddenly cease. For days a fleet of canoes had surrounded his ship. Now not one was to be seen, nor could any of the natives be discovered on shore. His recent great success had been largely due to the fact that he had on board an English-speaking Indian, through whom all negotiations had been conducted. When a whole day had passed without change in the situation the captain consulted with this Indian, and asked what he supposed had become of the natives.
"They be fearful to come off since they have learn that you steal red men for slaves," was the answer.
"Ho, ho! Is that all? But think you, Squanto, that they have any furs left?"
"Me think they keep back many of the best."
"By the Lord Harry! Then must we go to them, since they are afraid to come to us. Boat away, there! And, Squanto, you may come too if you will promise to make no attempt at escape."
"These be not my people," replied the Indian, evasively.
"That's so. I picked you up at a great distance from here. But never mind. If you serve me truly perhaps I will take you back there some day. Attempt to play me false, though, and I will kill you as I would a rat. Tumble in, then, and let us hie ashore."
It was a strong boat's crew and heavily armed that thus made a landing in search of the trade which no longer came to their ship, and they followed a plainly marked trail leading from the beach to the place where had been an Indian village. Now it was deserted and void of life, though their guide announced that it had been occupied as recently as a few hours before.
While the new-comers were prowling about with hopes of discovering something in the way of plunder, their attention was distracted by a column of smoke rising in the direction of their boat. They had left it hauled partially out of the water and in charge of two well-armed men. Now, hastening back, they were panic-stricken by the discovery that the boat was in flames. It was also badly crushed, as though it had been lifted bodily and dropped on a ledge of sharp rocks. Worst of all, it contained the dead bodies of those who had been left on guard. The weapons of both men were missing, and they had been scalped but not otherwise mutilated.
Taking advantage of the confusion following this discovery, the Indian guide dove into a nearby thicket and disappeared. A minute later, while the whites were huddled about their burning boat attempting to extinguish the flames, a great flight of arrows, that seemed to come from every direction at once, instantly killed more than half their number. Then came a rush of yelling savages, and in another minute but one man was left alive. He was wounded, but his life had been spared by the express order of Massasoit.
The Indian guide had been made prisoner, bound, and left to himself; but now that all was over, the young leader, ordering his warriors to remain behind, went to him. Stooping, he severed the prisoner's bonds and assisted him to his feet. Then gazing steadily at him, he cried in a voice that trembled with emotion,—
"Tasquanto, my brother, dost thou not remember Massasoit?"