For more than half an hour there was silence in the valley, save the whispering of the trees in the south wind, and the indistinct murmuring of the river. Then all at once, a sound of astonishment ran through the crowd, and the Prophet of the Alleghany was seen descending one of the high hills. With furious and frenzied step he entered the circle, and, waving his hands in token of silence, the missionary saw, with wonder, the same tall chief, who, four years before, had crossed him in the Tuscarora forest. The same panther-skin hung over his shoulder; the same tomahawk quivered in his hand; and the same fiery and malignant spirit burned in his eye. He addressed the awe-struck Indians, and the valley rung with his iron-voice.
“Red Men of the Woods! Hear what the Great Spirit says of his children who have forsaken him!
“Through the wide regions that were once the inheritance of my people—and for ages they roved as free as the wild winds—resounds the axe of the white man. The paths of your forefathers are polluted by the their steps, and your hunting-grounds are every day wrested from you by their arts. Once on the shores of the mighty ocean, your fathers were wont to enjoy all the luxuriant delights of the deep. Now, you are exiles in swamps, or on barren hills; and these wretched possessions you enjoy by the precarious tenure of the white man’s will. The shrill cry of revelry or war, no more is heard on the majestic shores of the Hudson, or the sweet banks of the silver Mohawk. There where the Indian lived and died, free as the air he breathed, and chased the panther and the deer from morning until evening—even there the Christian slave cultivates the soil in undisturbed possession; and as he whistles behind the plough, turns up the sacred remains of your buried ancestors. Have you not heard at evening, and sometimes in the dead of night, those mournful and melodious sounds that steal through the deep valleys, or along the mountain sides,’ like the song of echo? These are the wailings of those spirits whose bones have been turned up by the sacrilegious labors of the white men, and left to the mercy of the rain and the tempest. They call upon you to avenge them—they adjure you, by motives that rouse the hearts of the brave, to wake from your long sleep, and, by returning to these invaders of the grave the long arrears of vengeance, restore again the tired and wandering spirits to their blissful paradise far beyond the blue hills. *
* The answering voices heard from the caves and hollows,
which the Latins call echo, the Indians suppose to be the
wailings of souls wandering through these places.
“These are the blessings you owe to the Christians. They have driven your fathers from their ancient inheritance—they have destroyed them with the sword and poisonous liquors—they have dug up their bones, and left them to blanch in the wind, and now they aim at completing your wrongs, and insuring your destruction, by cheating you into the belief of that divinity, whose very precepts they plead in justification of all the miseries they have heaped upon your race.
“Hear me, O deluded people, for the last time!—If you persist in deserting my altars—if still you are determined to listen with fatal credulity to the strange pernicious doctrines of these Christian usurpers—if you are unalterably devoted to your new gods and new customs—if you will be the friend of the white man, and the follower of his God—my wrath shall follow. I will dart my arrows of forked lightning among your towns, and send the warring tempests of winter to devour you. Ye shall become bloated with intemperance; your numbers shall dwindle away, until but a few wretched slaves survive; and these shall be driven deeper and deeper into the wild—there to associate with the dastard beasts of the forest, who once fled before the mighty hunters of your tribe. The spirits of your fathers shall curse you, from the shores of that happy island in the great lake, where they enjoy an everlasting season of hunting, and chase the wild deer with dogs swifter than the wind. Lastly, I swear by the lightning, the thunder, and the tempest, that, in the space of sixty moons, of all the Senecas, not one of yourselves shall remain on the face of the earth.”
The Prophet ended his message—which was delivered with the wild eloquence of real or fancied inspiration, and, all at once, the crowd seemed to be agitated with a savage sentiment of indignation against the good missionary. One of the fiercest broke through the circle of old men to despatch him, but was restrained by their authority.
When this sudden feeling had somewhat subsided, the mild apostle obtained permission to speak, in behalf of Him who had sent him. Never have I seen a more touching, pathetic figure, than this good man. He seemed past sixty; his figure tall and bending, his face mild, pale, and highly intellectual, and over his forehead, which yet displayed its blue veins, were scattered at solitary distances, a few gray hairs. Though his voice was clear, and his action vigorous, yet there was that in his looks, which seemed to say his pilgrimage was soon to close for ever.
With pious fervor he described to his audience the glory, power, and beneficence of the Creator of the whole universe. He told them of the pure delights of the Christian heaven, and of the never-ending tortures of those who rejected the precepts of the Gospel.
And, when he had concluded this part of the subject, he proceeded to place before his now attentive auditors, the advantages of civilization, learning, science, and a regular system of laws and morality. He contrasted the wild Indian, roaming the desert in savage independence, now revelling in the blood of enemies, and in his turn, the victim of their insatiable vengeance, with the peaceful citizen, enjoying all the comforts of cultivated life in this happy land; and only bounded in his indulgences by those salutary restraints, which contribute as well to his own happiness as to that of society at large. He described the husbandman, enjoying, in the bosom of his family, a peaceful independence, undisturbed by apprehensions of midnight surprise, plunder, and assassination; and he finished by a solemn appeal to heaven, that his sole motive for coming among them was the love ot his Creator and of his creatures.