The lost hunter: A tale of early times

by John Turvill Adams

But Holden, a man naturally of great courage, and familiarized from his earliest years with danger, and the means of avoiding it, paid but little attention to the obscure hints of Esther. He did not even take the trouble to inquire to what direction her allusions pointed. From whom, from what, had he to apprehend danger to his life? He had voluntarily embraced poverty; there was nothing about him to tempt cupidity; he loved all the world, and would hardly, indeed, hesitate to sacrifice, if need were, his life for that of an another. What motive could there be to injure him? He was not in the boundless forest of the West, roamed by predatory savages, but in a land of law, and order, and religion. Were he, indeed, in those regions which had witnessed the fiery trials and perils of his youth, caution would be necessary; but even then, he would have relied with confidence on his own resources, controlled and directed by a shaping Providence. It was not probable that Holden thought at all of Ohquamehud, but if his mind rested for a moment on the Indian, it could not be with an emotion of fear. The western pioneers feel their superiority too greatly to be accessible to such apprehensions, and Holden had been too long a hunter of savages, to dread either their cunning or their force. Had he reflected on the subject, he would have seemed to himself to stand in pretty much the same relation to a red skin that a grown man does to a child; or, if the Indian were hostile, as the hunter does to the bears, and wolves, and catamounts, he pursues.

"Peéna," said Holden, "I thank thee. It is not in human nature to be ungrateful for affection, whatever be the color of the skin that covers the heart which offers it. But dismiss thy fears, and think of them as unsubstantial as the morning mist. And know that at all times doubt and fear are in vain. Thou canst not make one hair white and another black. It is appointed unto all men once to die, but of the times and seasons, though fixed by the Master of Life with infallible wisdom, and by a decree that may not be gainsaid, no man knoweth. The arrow shot by the hand of Jehovah must reach its mark, though thou seest not its track in the clouds."

Somewhat more effect attended Esther's visit to Pownal, not that, indeed, she felt the same apprehensions for him as for his father, or was able to inspire him with fears on his own account. Living in the village, and with habits so different from those of Holden, he was vastly less exposed to a danger of the kind she apprehended. The bullet or the knife of the savage would not be likely to reach him in the streets of Hillsdale. For it is no part of the tactics of an American Indian to expose his own life. On the contrary, he is considered a fool who does so unnecessarily. Stratagem is prized above force, and he is the greatest warrior who, while inflicting an injury, takes care not to expose himself to harm. Esther knew all this, and for these reasons, perhaps, if with Holden she was vague, with his son she was oracular. Consequently, Pownal only laughed at her, when she spoke of himself, as well, indeed, he might, but when she referred to his father, the case was altered. Not that any clear, well-defined danger presented itself, but as in low, monotonous tones the squaw proceeded, darkly hinting at what she would not explain, an oppression fell upon his spirits as strange as it was painful. We can liken it to nothing with more propriety than to that dim sense of terror and discomfort which is sometimes observed in the inferior animals at the approach of an eclipse or the bursting of a hurricane. Yielding to the mysterious monitor, and prompt in action as he was rapid in judgment, Pownal proceeded instantly to seek his father.

CHAPTER XXXV.

And with him thousand phantoms joined
Who prompt to deeds accursed the mind,
And those the fiends who, near allied,
O'er Nature's wounds and wrecks preside;
While Vengeance, in the lurid air,
Lifts his right arm, exposed and bare.

COLLINS.

Ohquamehud, with all his burning passion for revenge, dared not undertake anything against his enemy, in opposition to the commands of the Manito. After the signal interposition, as he conceived it to be, in favor of Holden at the cabin of the latter, he thought it not prudent to renew the attempt at the same place. The terror of that moment was too deeply impressed to allow him to hazard its repetition. But the power of that Manito might not extend elsewhere, and there were other Manitos who, perhaps, were more powerful, and might be more propitious. He would endeavor to conciliate one of them, and so arrive at the accomplishment of his wishes.

It has been observed that the falls of the Yaupáae were a favorite place of resort for the Solitary. Especially at this season of the year (for it was now the delicious month of June, the loveliest of the twelve) did he love to haunt its neighborhood. There was something in the wild scenery, in the dash and tumult of the water, and in its ceaseless shout, that harmonized well with his feelings in their various moods. His was a grand soul, and felt itself allied to the grandeur of nature. As the air, driven through the pipes of a mighty organ, issues out in solemn concords and divine harmonies, of power to lift the spirit on wings of cherubim and seraphim above "the mists of this dim spot which men call earth" and recall its contemplations to its heavenly origin, so these sights and sounds, playing through the soul of the Solitary, chased away whatever would clog its upward flight, soothing while they elevated, and bridging over the chasm that separates the lower from the upper spheres. This habit of Holden was well known to the Indian, for he had often seen the Solitary musing on a rock that overhung the falls. The retirement of the place, likewise, was favorable to the purpose of an assassin. It was seldom in those days, except tempted by its romance, that a person visited the spot. There were other reasons, also, that had an influence over the superstitious mind of the Indian, in determining his choice.

A child of nature, cradled in her wild bosom and reared in her arms, he, too, felt her awful charms. He could not listen to the voice of the majestic torrent, or gaze upon the grey rocks without a reverent admiration. And in proportion to this feeling was his awe of the Manito who presided over the scene. How prodigious must be His power! The irresistible sweep of the cataract resembled his strength; its roar, his voice; and the hoary rocks were indicative of his age. Could he obtain the favor of so mighty a Being—could he induce him to aid his design, it could be easy of execution. He would make the trial. He would approach him with offerings, and acquaint him with his wishes. The Genius of the Fall ought not to love the white man. The pale faces never offered him gifts, while the red men, long before the arrival of the fatal stranger and since, had covered the shores with presents. He would not be disregardful or turn a deaf ear to one of his children who sought a just revenge.

Animated by these considerations and such hopes, Ohquamehud left the hut of Esther on the afternoon of the following day, to propitiate the Manito of the Falls. His way led through the wood, along the margin of the Severn for a few miles and then crossed the high-road and some open fields and another belt of woods, before he reached the Yaupáae. Arrived at his destination, he looked with a solemn air around as if half expecting to see the Genius of the place. But he beheld nothing, save the wild features of nature, and the moss-grown roof of the old mill, almost hid by the intervening trees: he heard no sound except the uninterrupted roaring of the torrent. In the hot rays of that June sun, not even the birds emitted a note, waiting under their leafy shelters in the darkest recesses of the woods, until the pleasant coolness of approaching evening should tempt them out and reawaken their songs. The Indian, seeing that no one was in sight, commenced collecting brush and sticks of dry wood that lay about, which he heaped up into a pile upon a rock close to the water's edge. After he had gathered together a quantity that appeared to him sufficient, he selected from the stones lying around, a couple of flints which seemed fittest for his purpose, and by striking them violently together, soon succeeded in producing a shower of sparks, which falling on the thoroughly dried and combustible matter, instantly set it on fire, and shot a tongue of flame into the air. Reverently then inclining his body towards the cataract, as in an attitude of supplication, Ohquamehud addressed the Manito, and explained his wishes. He spoke with dignity, as one who, though standing in the presence of a superior, was not unmindful of his own worth. The sounds at first were those of lamentation, so low as scarcely to be audible, and plaintive and sweet as the sighs of the wind through the curled conch shell. "Oh Manito," he said, "where are thy children, once as plenty as the forest leaves? Ask of the month of flowers for the snows that 'Hpoon scatters from his hand, or of the Yaupáae for the streams he pours into the great Salt Lake. The sick-skinned stranger, with hair like the curls of the vine, came from the rising sun. He was weak as a little child: he shivered with the cold: he was perishing with hunger. The red man was strong: he wrapped himself in bear skins and was warm; he built his wigwam of bark, and defied the storm, and meat was plenty in his pot. He pitied the dying stranger; he brought him on his back out of the snow, and laid him by the fire; he chafed his limbs and clothed him in furs; he presented venison with his own hands, and the daughters of the tribes offered honey and cakes of maize, and wept for compassion. And the pale face saw that our land was better than his own, and he envied us, and sent messengers to his people to come and strip us of our heritage. Then they came as the flights of pigeons in the spring, innumerable: in multitudes as the shad and salmon, when they ascend the thawed rivers. They poisoned the air with their breaths, and the Indians died helpless in the pestilence. They made war upon us, and drove us from our cornfields; they killed our old men, and sent away our young men and maidens into slavery. O, Manito, thus hath the accursed pale faces requited our kindness.