Fire in the Woods / Illustrated

by James De Mille

“Yes. The Indians that you are acquainted with, who live in Nova Scotia and the greater part of New Brunswick, are called the Micmacs. These are called the Milicetes. The language of the two tribes is altogether distinct; their traditions, manners, and customs also vary in many particulars. Between the two tribes there is no intercourse and no friendly feeling whatever. You see here with your own eyes how different they must be from the other tribe, with which you are acquainted.”

Midday came, and as the steam whistles sounded, all hands left off work and prepared for dinner. Their dinners had been brought to them by the squaws of the tribe who had come to the mill bringing their pappooses with them. Men, women, and children then sat in a circle, in the midst of the mill yard, and engaged in their midday repast, while the boys looked on curiously from a distance.

Among these Indians there was one who had come up with the women, and seemed to have some sort of authority. He did not work in the mill, but had the air and tone of one giving directions, to which the others yielded assent or obedience. There was something in this Indian which seemed familiar to Bart, though he could not account for it. He was the first who noticed him, and he mentioned it to the others; but they were equally unable to do so. At length, as several of the boys grouped themselves together, it seemed to Bart as though the Indian had some recognition of them. There were Bart, and Phil, and Pat, and the two Rawdons; and as the Indian looked up, he caught sight of them, with Bart in the foreground. He started, and then turned his head away, and appeared to busy himself with something else.

He was a very old man, somewhat bent, his face seamed with a million wrinkles; but his figure was still strong, sinewy, and apparently capable of undergoing fatigue or exertion to an indefinite extent. He turned away, as has been said, but every few moments he threw a furtive glance at the boys.

And now it happened that Solomon came up from the schooner to ask whether the boys were to get dinner on board or on shore. He came up to where the Indians were seated, and it was evident that they had never seen a negro before, for the advent of Solomon created an extraordinary sensation. The women drew back, the children screamed, the men stared, and all gave signs of unusual excitement. But among all, none showed such excitement as the old man already mentioned.

As Solomon drew near, he saw him first, and started to his feet, staring at him with a face upon which there was a variety of contending expressions; curiosity, wonder, uneasiness, alarm—all these were plainly visible at the same time on that old Indian’s face.

But the emotion of the Indian found its counterpart in that which was manifested by Solomon, as the Indian caught sight of him and started to his feet. The attention of Solomon was arrested by that movement. He stopped short, and fixed his eyes upon the Indian. His hands clinched themselves together; his lips compressed themselves; his limbs grew rigid; while his eyes seemed to glow like fire. Again the old man was transformed; again that wonderful change took place from apparent feebleness, and even decrepitude, to something which seemed like the bounding vigor and vehement energy of barbaric manhood. His chest heaved; he seemed like some wild beast, as he stood there, gathering up all his energies for one tremendous spring.

On the other hand, the Indian saw it, and drew himself up to resist the assault. He fell back a step or two, and mechanically threw himself into an attitude of defence. His gesture was seen by his companions. They looked up to where his eyes were turned, and they marked the threatening attitude of Solomon. In an instant every one of them started up to his feet, and by one common movement put themselves in front of their old companion, as though to guard him from the attack of this unexpected enemy.

Upon the boys these singular proceedings produced different effects. Bart and his companions in the woods at once recognized the truth. The old Indian was no other than their false guide, who had first turned upon them to attack them, and then fled, leaving them in the midst of the trackless forest. This was the man who now appeared before them in the midst of his own people, who certainly deserved some punishment for all that he had done, but who seemed to be out of the reach of any punishment, unless, indeed, Solomon should take the law into his own hands. But Bruce and the others, who had never seen the Indian before, stood simply amazed, not knowing what to make of such a singular scene. They had heard of the adventure in the woods with the Indian guide, but what they had heard did not suffice to afford them a clew to the affair before them.

For a few moments they stood thus, Solomon threatening, the Indians scowling, the boys looking on. But Solomon, though poised to spring, hesitated, as he saw all the enemies before him. Had it been only the old Indian, he would have leaped upon him at once; but with so many other Indians, it was a different matter. Very naturally, therefore, Solomon hesitated, and faltered, and sank down from his high pitch of fury, at thus being confronted with the impossible.