“I will return to thee, replied Antakaya, I will return to thee. My arrows have never disappointed my aim, my tomahawk shall be bathed in the blood of the whites; I will bring back their scalps to ornament the door of thy cabin; then I shall be worthy of Manahella; then shall we love in peace, then shall we be happy.
“The first day of the moon of flowers had brightly dawned, and many more had passed away, and none had heard from Antakaya and his warriors. Stooping on the shores of the Avolachy, the mournful Manahella every evening raised to the evil spirits little pyramids of polished pebbles, to appease their anger and avert their resistance to her well beloved; but the evil spirits were inflexible, and their violent blasts overthrew the little pyramids.
“One evening of the last moon of flowers, Manahella met on the banks of the river a pale and bloody warrior. ‘Die, poor ivy,’ said he to Manahella; ‘die! the noblest oak of the forest, that proud oak under whose shade thou hoped to enjoy repose and happiness, is fallen! It has fallen under the redoubled strokes of the whites. In its fall it has crushed those who felled it, but it is fallen! Die, poor ivy, die! for the oak which was to give thee support is fallen!’—Two days after, Manahella was no more.
“Antakaya, whose courage had been deceived by fate, had fallen covered with wounds into the hands of the whites, who carried him far away. But he escaped; and after wandering long through the forest, he returned to mourn his defeat and meditate vengeance with Manahella. When he arrived, she was no more. Agitated by the most violent despair, he ran in the evening to the banks of the Avolachy, calling Manahella, but the echo alone replied to the accents of his grief.
“O Manahella! he exclaimed, if my arrows have disappointed my skill, if my tomahawk has not spilt the blood of the whites, if I have not brought thee their scalps to ornament the door of thy cabin, forgive me! It is not the fault of my courage, the evil spirits have fought against me. And yet I have suffered no complaint to escape me, not a sigh, when the iron of my enemies tore my breast; I have not abased myself by asking my life! They preserved it against my will, and I am only consoled by the hope of one day avenging myself, and offering thee many of their scalps. O Manahella! come, if but to tell me that thou pardonest me, and that thou permittest me to follow thee into the world of the Great Spirit.
“At the same instant a vivid light, pure and lambent, appeared to the eyes of the unfortunate Antakaya. He saw in it the soul of his beloved, and followed it through the valley during all the night, supplicating it to stay and to pardon him. At the dawn of the day he found himself on the border of a great lake; the light had disappeared, and he believed that it had passed over the water. Immediately, although feeble and fatigued, he made a canoe of the trunk of a tree which he hollowed, and with a branch he made a paddle. At the end of the day his work was achieved. With the darkness the deceptive light returned; and during all the night Antakaya pursued the delusion on the face of the unsteady waters. But it again disappeared before the light of the sun, and with it vanished the slight breath of hope and the life of Antakaya.”
Mary ended her ballad, and I expressed to her my thanks as we arrived at the bridge of Kaskaskia. There, Sciakape collected his escort, said a few words to his wife, and left us to enter the village alone. We approached the house of Mr. Morrison, at which the ball was given to General Lafayette. I then felt that Mary trembled; her trouble was so great that she could not conceal it from me. I asked her the cause. If you would spare me a great mortification, she said, you will not conduct me among the ladies of Kaskaskia. They are now without doubt in their most brilliant dresses, and the coarseness of my clothes will inspire them with contempt and pity, two sentiments which will equally affect me. Besides I know that they blame me for having renounced the life of the whites, and I feel little at ease in their presence. I promised what she desired, and she became reassured. Arrived at Mr. Morrison’s, I conducted her into a lower chamber, and went to the hall to inform General Lafayette that the young Indian girl awaited him below. He hastened down, and several of the committee with him. He saw and heard Mary with pleasure, and could not conceal his emotion on recognizing his letter, and observing with what holy veneration it had been preserved during nearly half a century in a savage nation, among whom he had not even supposed his name had ever penetrated. On her part, the daughter of Panisciowa expressed with vivacity the happiness she enjoyed in seeing him, along with whom her father had the honour to fight for the good American cause.
After a half hour’s conversation, in which General Lafayette was pleased to relate the evidences of the fidelity and courageous conduct of some Indian nations towards the Americans, during the revolutionary war, Mary manifested a wish to retire, and I accompanied her to the bridge, where I replaced her under the care of Sciakape and his escort, and bade them farewell.
At midnight, the general received the farewell of the ladies and citizens of Kaskaskia, who were assembled at Mr. Morrison’s, and we returned on board our boat, to continue immediately our navigation towards the mouth of the Ohio. Governor Coles greatly wished that we should cross that part of the state of Illinois comprised in the angle formed by the two great rivers, and meet the boat again at Shawneetown, where we should have been able to visit the salt mines, which are said to be very fine; but besides that this would have taken more time than he could devote to this visit, this route did not accord with the plan of ascending the Cumberland river to Nashville, where the envoys from Tennessee were charged to conduct him. Mr. Coles embarked with us to accompany the general to the state of Tennessee, and we felt a real pleasure on account of it, for he is a man of agreeable conversation and extraordinary merit. All persons agree in saying that he fulfils his duties as governor with as much philanthropy as justice. He owes his elevation to the office of governor, to his opinions on the abolition of the slavery of the blacks. He was originally a proprietor in Virginia, where, according to the custom of the country, he cultivated his lands by negro slaves. After having for a long time strongly expressed his aversion for this kind of culture, he thought it his duty to put in practice the principles he had professed, and he decided to give liberty to all his slaves; but knowing that their emancipation in Virginia would be more injurious than useful to them, he took them all with him into the state of Illinois, where he not only gave them their liberty, but also established them at his own expense, in such a manner that they should be able to procure for themselves a happy existence by their labour. This act of justice and humanity considerably diminished his fortune, but occasioned him no regrets. At this period, some men, led astray by ancient prejudices, endeavoured to amend that article of the constitution of the state of Illinois, which prohibits slavery: Mr. Coles opposed these men with all the ardour of his philanthropic soul, and with all the superiority of his enlightened mind. In this honourable struggle, he was sustained by the people of Illinois; justice and humanity triumphed, and soon after Mr. Coles was elected governor, by an immense majority. This was an honourable recompense, and to this there is now joined another which must be very grateful to him; his liberated negroes are perfectly successful, and afford a conclusive argument against the adversaries of emancipation.
Some hours after our departure from Kaskaskia, we were at the mouth of the Ohio, which we ascended to the mouth of Cumberland river, where we arrived before night. There we awaited the steam-boat Artizan, to take us to Nashville. When it was necessary for us to quit the Natchez, and our travelling companions from Louisiana, we experienced an oppression of feeling as if we were quitting our family and home. This feeling will be easily comprehended, when it is understood that we had passed nearly a month and travelled nearly eighteen hundred miles on board this boat, in the midst of a society, amiable, intelligent, and obliging, and of which each individual had become for us an amiable friend. On their side, Messieurs Morse, Ducros, Prieur, and Caire, manifested to us regrets not less sincere. Notwithstanding their long absence from New Orleans, they would have voluntarily prolonged their mission, to pass a longer time with their dear Lafayette; and our excellent Captain Davis warmly expressed his regrets at seeing another vessel than his own about to receive the nation’s guest; but on the other hand, the envoys from Tennessee were not disposed to cede to others the right of doing the honours of their state; and even if they had chosen to accept the services of Captain Davis, they were forced to renounce them, because the Natchez was unfit to navigate the shallow waters of the Cumberland. We were, therefore, obliged to take leave of the Louisianian committee, and that of the state of Mississippi, with great regret, and go on board of the Artizan, where we were received and treated in a manner that foretold we would soon experience a renewal of our sorrow in separating from our new companions.