“Do you see that, Rolfe?” said Earth, “that fellow is all pluck; 'tis a pity he is a red skin. I am sorry for him, and I will try and set him up, if it is only to have a fair crack at him some future day, when he gets well.” Then turning to the boy, he said, “when Earth shoots you, my good fellow, he will not leave you to lie suffering for two days; he won't be so barbarous.”
The boy turned his eyes towards Earth, but said nothing. Rolfe, who understood Earth's character, who knew how much kindness and gentleness there was under his rough exterior, gave in to his humour, and said, “you have a queer way of giving consolation, Earth.”
“Did you not hear the mother say I was kind to the red men? you know I am, Rolfe. I never let 'em suffer long, I do the thing genteely. Now, I should like to meet this lad when he gets well, just to show him how much difference there is between being killed, that is, as I would kill him, and that is genteely, and being mangled up and left to die for two days.”
“I don't imagine, Earth, he feels much curiosity on the subject; if he gets over this, he will no doubt be satisfied.”
“Get over it, indeed!—surely he will, the Ingens know the use of so many yerbs, that, with them, I believe they can make a leg, much more cure one that is only shot; they are proper nice hands with yerbs, I tell you.”
While thus conversing, Earth was diligently at work, preparing the litter for the removal of the boy; and having finished it, the hunters approached, and with as much tenderness as if they had been about to remove a brother, lent their assistance. The boy, though evidently very weak, still manifested some displeasure against Earth, and having discovered that Rolfe was likewise a pale face, he grew still more agitated. The mother said many soothing things, and endeavoured to appease him;—the boy spoke not, but pointed to his mangled limbs. The mother then requested the hunters to assist her in placing her son upon the litter; they did so, and though every possible kindness was used, their acts were as wormwood to the Indian boy.
Every thing being now prepared, and the party ready to set out upon their journey, the mother took up one end of the litter, while Earth held the other, and with Rolfe carrying a torch, and leading the way, which the mother pointed out, they moved forward. Repeatedly, however, had Earth to check the ardour of his companion, and cause him to walk more slowly. The excitement, under which he had been labouring for several hours, had imparted strength to his weakened frame, and the hope of soon seeing her, who, for so long a time, had been the theme of so many waking dreams, urged him on;—“Yes,” he communed with himself, “but a few hours more, and I shall embrace her, who has been the guiding star of my earlier days; her, whose recovery is to me the goal of all my earthly hopes.” And then, when he reflected upon the surprise he would create, the pleasure it would give him to restore her to her friends, he grew wild with joy, and could scarcely restrain himself. And then the fate of her family would pass before him, the loss of her friends, and her desolate condition, and seeing her wretched, dejected, and heart-broken, he was plunged in the deepest sorrow. Then these thoughts would fade away, and there would rush by the first moment of recognition, with its wild delight, its joy, its heavenly bliss;—and then would follow on the thought, that she must at once be restored to her friends in Virginia, that his lot was cast in a different land, and then, that she might have forgotten him, and that some one more fortunate might possess her affections. Then again he grew sad. Thus alternating between different passions, he gave full play to the suggestions of his fancy.
While these thoughts occupied the mind of Rolfe, Earth and the mother had been slowly wending their way along with the litter, having stopped several times from fatigue. Rolfe attended them closely, but with them he seemed to have no communion of feeling; his thoughts were of other things, and he heeded not the conversation which was passing between Earth and the Indian mother.
“Rolfe, heard you that story?”
Rolfe was silent.