The Pilgrims of New England / A Tale of the Early American Settlers

by Mrs. J. B. Webb

The young friends took their way into the forest, that they might be beyond the sight and the sound of those rites that were about to be performed for the recovery of one who had already begun to travel through the valley of the shadow of death. They had not, however, gone far in a westerly direction, before they chanced their intention, and resolved to return to the village. The cause of this change of purpose was their meeting with a band of Cree warriors, who had gone out, some weeks previously, on an expedition against a settlement of their enemies, the Stone Indians; and were now returning from the plains of the Saskatchawan, laden with spoils. Many of the Crees bore scalps suspended from their belts, as bloody trophies of victory; and all had arms, and skins, and ornaments that they had carried away from the pillaged wigwams of their foes.

Henrich could not help gazing with admiration at the party of warriors as they approached. The greater part of them were mounted on beautiful and spirited horses of the wild breed of the western prairies, which they rode with an ease and grace that astonished the young Englishman. They wore no covering on their heads, and their black hair was cut short, except one long scalp-lock hanging behind; so that their fine countenances, which were rather of the Roman cast, were fully exposed to view. Their dress consisted of a large blanket, wrapped gracefully round the waist, and confined by a belt, so as to leave the bust and arms bare; and so perfect and muscular were their figures, that they had the appearance of noble bronze statues. Their native weapons, consisting of spears and bows, with highly ornamented quivers suspended from their shoulders, and battle-axes hung to their belts, added much to their martial and picturesque effect. Behind the horsemen followed a band on foot, who carried the stolen treasures of the wasted village; and Henrich looked with curiosity at the various and beautifully decorated articles of dress, and hunting equipments, that had formed the pride and the wealth of the defeated Stone Indians.

But the part of the spoil that interested and distressed both Henrich and his companion more than all the rest, was a young Indian warrior, who, with his wife and her infant, had been brought away as prisoners to add to the triumph, and, probably, to glut the vengeance, of their conquerors. There was an unextinguished fire in the eye of the captive, and an expression of fearless indignation in the proud bearing with which he strode by the side of his captors, that clearly told how bravely he would sell his life but for the cords that tightly bound his wrists behind him, and were held by a powerful Cree on each side. Behind him walked his wife, with downcast features and faltering steps, and at her back hung her little infant, suspended in a bag or pouch of deer skin, half filled with the soft bog-moss, so much used by Indian squaws to form the bed—and, indeed, the only covering—of their children during the first year of their existence. The eyes of the captive young mother were fixed tearfully on the majestic form of her husband, who was too proud—perhaps, also, too sad—to turn and meet her gaze, while the eyes of his foes were upon him to detect his slightest weakness. Even the low wailing cry of her child was unheeded by this broken hearted wife in that sad hour; for she well knew the customs of Indian warfare, and she had no hope for the life of her warrior, even if her own should be spared.

Henrich gazed on the little group in pity; for be instinctively read their story, and their coming fate, in their countenances, and in the cruel glances that fell on them from their guards. He looked at Jyanough; and in his expressive features he saw a fell confirmation of his worst fears.

'They will sacrifice them to Maatche-Mahneto in the vain hope of lengthening Terah's life,' he softly whispered in Henrich's ear. 'Let us go back and seek Oriana. Perhaps, for her sake, Tisquantum may ask the lives of the squaw and her young child; and, as Chingook's honored guest, they would be granted to him; but there is no hope for the warrior. His blood will surely be shed to appease Maatche-Mahneto, and to atone for the death of several of the Cree braves who have fallen this year by the hands of the Stone tribe.'

Hastily Henrich turned; and, followed by Jyanough, took a by-path well known to them, and entered the village before the arrival of the warriors and their unhappy prisoners. A brief explanation was sufficient to enlist all the kindly feelings, and all the Christian spirit, of Oriana in favor of their project; and she lost no time in seeking her father, who had again repaired to Terah's hut, to superintend the costly sacrifice that was being offered in his behalf. She found him exulting in a partial improvement in his patient, whose senses had again returned with a brief and deceitful brilliance, and attributing what he called the aged Pince's recovery to the potency of his own spells.

This was no time for Oriana to argue with the elated Powow on the fallacy of his pretensions. She therefore listened patiently to his boastings; and then, with much feeling and natural eloquence, told him the cause of her interrupting him at such a moment, and besought him to exert all his great influence with the Crees, to induce them to spare the lives of the Stone captives.

Tisquantum listened with attention to her story and her petition, for he was always gentle to Oriana; but he gave her little hope of that fell success which her warm young heart desired, and anticipated.

'My child,' he said, 'I will do what you ask, so far as to request that the woman and child may be placed at your disposal. But the warrior's life I cannot demand, for it would be an insult to the brave Crees to suppose that they would suffer an enemy to escape, and tell his tribe that they were woman-hearted. No, he must die; and, if the soul of his ancestors dwells in him, he will exult in the opportunity of showing how even a Stone Indian can meet death.'

Oriana was repulsed, but not defeated, by this reply. 'Nay, my father,' she again began, 'either save all, or let all perish. Do not take the brave young warrior from his wife and child, and leave them in poverty and sorrow; but plead for mercy to be shown to him also—and so may mercy be shown to his conquerors, and to you, his deliverer, when—'