He spoke,—and to the western springs
(His gown discharged, his money spent)
His blanket tied with yellow strings,
The shepherd of the forest went.
Returning to the rural reign,
The Indians welcom'd him with joy;
The council took him home again,
And bless'd the copper-coloured boy.
Our author, brings his hero again upon the stage, under the title of
THE SPLENETIC INDIAN.
"To the best of my recollection, it was about the middle of the month of August; we were sitting on a green bank by the brook side; the fox grapes were not yet come to maturity; but we were anticipating the pleasure we should soon experience in eating some fine clusters, that at this instant hung over our heads in the tall shade of a beech tree; when, upon a sudden clamour raised by some young fellows, who were advancing rapidly towards us, the learned Indian sachem Tomo-cheeki, who at this time happened to be my friend and companion, seized me by the hand, and intimated a strong desire, that I should accompany him to his wigwam, situate at many miles distance in the wilderness.
"A request so unusual, and at such a sultry season of the year (it being now the height of the dog days), and to all appearance occasioned by so trifling a circumstance as the approach of a few noisy bacchanalians, could not but give me some surprise. I nevertheless accepted his offer, and we then walked on together westward, without saying a word, though not forgetting to kindle our pipes afresh at the first house we came to.
"We had no sooner entered the forest, than I began to be convinced, that all things around us were precisely such as nature had finished them; the trees were straight and lofty, and appeared as if they had never been obliged to art in their progress to maturity; the streams of water were winding and irregular, and not odiously drawn into a right line by the spade of the ditcher. The soil had never submitted to the ploughshare, and the air that circulated through this domain of nature was replete with that balmy fragrance, which was breathed into the lungs of the long-lived race of men, that flourished in the first ages of the world.
"At last we approached the wigwam, as I discovered by the barking of a yellow dog, who ran out to meet us. The building seemed to be composed of rough materials, and at most was not more than eight feet in height, with a hole in the centre of the roof, to afford a free passage to the smoke from within. It was situate in a thicket of lofty trees, on the side of a stream of clear water, at a considerable distance from the haunts of civilized men. A young indian girl was angling in the deepest part of the stream, whence she every now and then drew a trout, or some other inhabitant of the waters. An old squaw sat at a very small distance, and, after cutting off the heads, and extracting the entrails, hung the fish in the smoke, to preserve them against the time of winter.
"The Indian and myself then entered the wigwam, and without ceremony seated ourselves on blocks of wood covered with fox skins. The furniture of his habitation consisted of scarcely any thing besides. The flooring was that which was originally common to all men and animals. I thought myself happy, that I had been permitted to come into the world, in an age when some vestige of the primitive men, and their manners of living, were yet to be found. A few ages will totally obliterate the scene.
"I now determined to teaze the Indian, if possible—'But for a man of your education,' says I, 'sachem Tomo-cheeki; to bury yourself in this savage retreat, is to me inexplicable. You who have travelled on foot no less than one hundred and seventeen leagues, till you reached the walls of Havard college, and all for the sake of gaining an insight into languages, arts, and mysteries; and then to neglect all you have acquired at last, is a mode of conduct, for which I cannot easily account—What! was not the mansion of a fat clergyman a more desirable acquisition than this miserable hut, these gloomy forests, and yonder savage stream?—Were not the food and liquor belonging to the white men of the law far superiour to these insipid fish, these dried roots, and these running waters?—Were not a physician's cap, an elegant morning gown, and a grave suit of black clothes, made by an european tailor, more tempting to your imagination, than this wretched blanket, that is eternally slipping from your shoulders, unless it be fastened with skewers, which are by no means convenient?'