CHAPTER XVII.
"If he were with me, King of Tuscarora,
Gazing as I upon thy portrait now,
In all its medalled, fringed, and bearded glory,
Its eyes' dark beauty, and its thoughtful brow—
"Its brow, half martial, half diplomatic;
Its eye, upsoaring, like an eagle's wings;
Well might he boast that we, the democratic,
Outrival Europe—even in our kings."
—Red Jacket.
My uncle Ro said nothing when the two tenants left us; though I saw, by his countenance, that he felt all the absurdity of the stuff we had just been listening to. We had got within half a mile of the woods, when eight Injins came galloping up to a wagon that was directly behind us, which contained another of my tenants, with his eldest son, a lad of sixteen, whom he had brought with him as a scholar, in having his sense of right unsettled by the selfish mystification that was going on in the land; a species of fatherly care that was of very questionable merit. I said there were eight of these Injins, but there were only four horses, each beast carrying double. No sooner did the leaders of the party reach the wagon I have mentioned, than it was stopped, and its owner was commanded to alight. The man was a decided down-renter, but he obeyed the order with a very ill-grace; and did not obey at all, indeed, until he was helped out of the wagon, by a little gentle violence of this fragment of his own corps d'armée. The boy was soon put into the highway, when two of the "disguised and armed" leaped into the vacant places, and drove on, passing us at a furious pace, making a parting nod to the owner of the vehicle, and consoling him for its temporary loss by calling out, "Injin want him—Injin good fellow, you know."
Whether the discomfited farmer knew or not, we could not tell; but he looked as if he wished the Injins anywhere but in their "happy hunting grounds." We drove on laughing, for it was in human nature to be amused at such an exhibition of the compulsory system, or of "liberty and equality carried out;" and more particularly so, when I was certain that the "honest, hard-working, horny-handed tiller of the soil," wanted to cheat me out of a farm; or to put his case in the most favorable point of view, wanted to compel me to sell him one at his own price. Nor did our amusement stop here. Before we reached the woods, we found Holmes and Tubbs in the highway, too; the other two worthies who had been mounted en croupe having dispossessed them of their wagon also, and told them to "charge it to Injin." We afterward learned that this practice was very general; the owner recovering his horse and team, in the course of a few days, by hearing it had been left secretly at some tavern within a few miles of his residence. As for old Holmes, he was in an honest indignation, when we came up with him, while even Tubbs looked soured and discontented, or as if he thought friends were entitled to better treatment.
"Vhat ist der matter?" cried out uncle Ro, who could hardly keep from laughing the whole time; "vhat ist der matter now? Vhere might be your hantsome vaggin and your gay horse?"
"It's too bad!—yes, it's eeny most too bad!" grunted Holmes. "Here am I, past threescore-and-ten, which is the full time of man, the Bible says—and what the Bible says must be true, you know?—here have they trundled me into the highway, as they would a sack of potatoes, and left me to walk every step of four miles to reach my own door! It's too bad—it's eeny most too bad!"
"Oh! dat might be a trifle, compared to vhat it vould be to haf peen drundelled out of your farm."