When the ceremony was completed, the Sagamore of the Pequots, as if unwilling by further words to confuse the record, turned away in silence, and took his solitary way through the forest, to seek the seat of his tribe.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
Deserted at his utmost need
By those his former bounty fed,
On the bare earth, exposed, he lies.
Dryden.
The colonists were exasperated at the breaking of the prison, justly concluding that it was not entirely the work of Indians, notwithstanding Bars, faithful to the impression made on him by the gold pieces, stoutly maintained such to be the fact; and that Cowlson was unable to contradict him. But it was, after all, only suspicion—a suspicion, too, that pointed at various persons. While some, with a lucky sagacity, ascribed the violence done their authority to the Knight, as a leader; there were those who suspected others, of whom they would gladly be rid. For, however desirous the great bulk of the colonists were that only they of their own moral habits and modes of thinking should be connected with their enterprise, it was impossible completely to exclude the obnoxious. Some would creep in, and the colony resembled a draught of fishes from the rivers in the spring, when the schools are running; wherein, although the great majority are shad or salmon, occasional intruders of other scales and stripes are found. This little minority were watched with Argus eyes—every transgression being visited with exemplary punishment—the hand of Justice being made heavier by two considerations, viz: difference of opinion, and a desire to drive away recusants, who were regarded as vessels doomed to destruction, and whose presence was held to be dangerous. That was no era of toleration, but of fierce, intractable dogma. The breach betwixt Protestants then was almost, if not quite, as wide as between Protestants and Catholics now. Opinion, bold, enthusiastic opinion, calling itself by the gracious name of saving faith, usurped the place and prerogative of reason; and, as from a Papal chair, denounced, as damnable error, whatever harmonized not with itself. In this strife of ignorances, the amenities and charities of life were lost sight of and forgotten; and, if not quite trampled out of existence, it was owing more to that celestial spark which, with a dimmer or a brighter light, guides every man who comes into the world than to the lessons of the teachers. Men were dismissed from the colony, or otherwise punished, on bare suspicion of wrong-doing or wrong-thinking. Nor is it unlikely that hostility in high places may have availed itself of this laxity of law to gratify private malignity.
Hence, let it not be wondered at, that, in consequence of the prison breach, several innocent persons were arrested, whose modes of life or principles of faith came not up to the orthodox standard. If their apprehension answered no other purpose, it, at least, served to weaken the desire of the suspected persons to remain where they were not wanted.
Hitherto the magistrates had been foiled, but failure only increased their vigilance and activity. Additional men were despatched to scour the woods; word was sent to Salem and to Plymouth, and co-operation to capture the fugitives asked for; rewards were offered for their seizure; and, in fine, no means omitted which indomitable will and ingenuity could devise. So hot, at length, became the chase, that, familiar as they were with the woods, Sir Christopher and his companions found it difficult to avoid capture. They had it, indeed, in their power to place themselves in comparative safety, either by following the steps of the Pequot chief, or seeking the Taranteens—for to the west they dared not go, for fear of the tribes in that direction, who were at feud with those on the Atlantic border—but various considerations interfered to prevent. With neither Sir Christopher nor the Indian was mere personal safety a ruling motive. The former had not abandoned all hope of changing the strange resolution of Sister Celestina, with whom he determined, on accomplishing her release, to proceed with Neebin to the country of the Pequots—in this way only transferring their labors to another place—and with the latter, the charge wherewith he was entrusted was too sacred for any cause to be neglected. Flying from their posts, even though bands of enemies were after them, was therefore not to be thought of. As for Philip, his wild, reckless nature took pleasure in their adventurous mode of life; satisfied, besides, that were he even made prisoner, no serious punishment could befall him, unless his participation in the prison-breach became known, which, he confided too much in the fidelity of his associates to believe was possible. Seldom daring, therefore, to discharge their fire-locks, but depending principally on the arrows of the Indian, and snares they set for subsistence, occasionally aided by the friendly natives with whom the Knight was a favorite, and constantly changing their places, the three continued to elude the search, and the baffled soldiers were obliged to return, digesting their disappointment as they might, and asserting that those whom they sought had left the neighborhood. To make assurance sure and to stimulate the Indians to exertions, which the magistrates were certain had never been made, higher rewards were offered for the capture of Sir Christopher in particular, which, it was supposed, the cupidity of the natives would be unable to resist.
Among the Indians trusted by Sir Christopher, none had contrived to secure a greater share of his confidence than Quecheco, the frequent and favored companion of his hunts. The skill of the Indian in hunting had, at first, recommended him to the Knight, and afterwards, the interest of the latter in his protegé was increased by the attention with which Quecheco listened to instruction and by the intelligence of his questions. Hitherto he had always been found faithful, in consequence whereof the haunts of the outlyers were not concealed from him, and he was employed to procure information from the English settlements, and depended on, generally, as a confederate. Quecheco was not without affection; in proof whereof, he had withstood the bribe at first offered for the capture of Sir Christopher, but his feeble virtue finally succumbed. There was one temptation which he was unable to withstand. He had frequently been a witness of the effectiveness of the gun in the hands of the Knight, and, with a hunter's love, conceived a longing to possess one. This was no easy matter to be accomplished, furnishing guns to Indians being strictly prohibited, and such weapons taken away whenever found in their possession. Quecheco now thought he saw an opportunity of gratifying a desire that had become a mania, and determined that a gun should be the price of his friend's liberty.