It was yet early in the day. There was no need of hurry, and the wish of the Indian of itself was enough. It would have been indeed ungracious to deny acquiescence to one who had just saved his life, and Arundel therefore at once signified his assent. But before they started, the Indian with the knife which he took from his neck, despoiled the panther of its skin. Throwing it then across his shoulders on top of the deer's carcass, he led the way out of the path in a direction different from that in which Arundel had been travelling.
It was truly as Waqua had said, and a few moments sufficed to reach his habitation. It stood by itself, near the margin of the Charles river, which empties into Massachusetts Bay, and was merely a rough hunting lodge, made of bark, yet so constructed as effectually to answer the purpose for which it was designed during the milder months. Doubtless in winter it was deserted for the more comfortable wigwam in the village.
Arrived at his dwelling, Waqua took down some skins suspended on one side, and spreading them upon the ground, courteously invited his companion to a seat. Arundel was glad to rest after his late violent conflict, and availed himself of the opportunity to brush off the dirt, and re-arrange his torn and disordered dress. Meanwhile, Waqua kindled a fire, and cutting off some bear steaks, threw them on the glowing coals. The exercise and danger of Arundel had given him an appetite, and with no little interest he watched the process. The meal was soon ready, and justice done to it by both; and upon its conclusion, it became apparent that it was not on its account only that Waqua had desired to return to his wigwam. It was also to make some alteration in his toilette, therein betraying that fondness for ornament which is equally active in the savage and in the civilized exquisite. For the garments he had worn, others were substituted of finer quality, and more showy appearance. Over his shoulders was thrown a robe of beaver skins; in his hair were stuck some red feathers, and from his ears hung pendants carved out of bone, into a rude imitation of birds. Belts of wampompeag encircled the arms above the elbow, and fell over the robe, hanging down the shoulders. The preparation was completed by painting the cheeks and forehead vermillion. Thus decorated, with bow in hand, an ornamented quiver on his back, and tomahawk in girdle, Waqua considered himself fit to be presented at any court in the world.
Nor when he advanced, conscious of the improvement in his appearance, and stepping as though he were lord of the unbounded wilderness, did Arundel attempt to conceal his admiration of the forest Apollo. Waqua remarked it in the other's eyes, and a gleam of satisfaction lighted up his face. Throwing the deer he had killed over his shoulder, and taking a small bundle of skins in his hand, the Indian preceded his companion on their way to the settlement.
CHAPTER VIII.
"Absit, quoth the doctor."
Don Quixote.
Upon arriving at the little town of Boston, Arundel made the Indian promise to return to him at the ordinary or inn where he had his quarters, after the furs and venison should be disposed of. Waqua was glad to make the promise, and the two separated; the one, directing his steps towards his lodging; and the other, to seek a purchaser for his commodities. Arundel was anxious to express his gratitude, and, besides, was interested by the talk of the child of the forest; while Waqua, on his part, was evidently disposed to meet any advances.
Eleazar Nettles, the worthy host of the Ship-tavern, who Stood at the door of the low rambling building, welcomed his lodger with all the cordiality he could throw into a face originally not ill-looking or unpleasing, but which, in consequence of practising an appearance of mortification, (in order to stand well with the grave citizens), which neither belonged to the calling wherein he was engaged, nor by nature to itself, seemed an odd mixture of earthly depravity and of heavenly grace. Not that Eleazar was a bad fellow. Nature had originally enclosed in his dumpy body a good-humoured soul enough, and, in a less austere community, where the bent of his disposition might have had fair play, he would have been a rather jolly dog. He was, however, a victim of fate. By what disastrous chance his lot was cast in that grim-visaged region, has never been satisfactorily explained, but being once in it, and a publican by profession, it was necessary to conform to the habits and manners of those about him, unless he desired to see his license taken away, and himself a suspected person, as well as without employment. These prudential considerations contending with Eleazar's nature, had sobered the otherwise mirthful features of his face, and made him present the appearance of a merry and a sad man rolled into one, each striving for the mastery, and each alternately achieving victory, according to circumstances. The merry man was safe in the presence of Arundel, and, therefore, his mouth dissolved into a pleasant chuckle as he welcomed him.
"It is a joy and an honor, Master Arundel," he said, "to see again a discreet young gentleman like yourself, whose spirits—ahem!—are lively as my own ale, and yet chastised by a godly 'havior. You must have had something of a walk this morning. What refreshment may it please you to take?"