Littlepage Manuscripts: Satanstoe, The Chainbearer & The Redskins (Complete Edition). James Fenimore Cooper

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СКАЧАТЬ ere we reached the little bush-fringed creek in which he had concealed it. I have always thought we ran a grave risk, in advancing so far in that direction, since the enemy’s Indians would certainly be hanging around the skirts of our army, in quest of scalps; but I afterwards learned the secret of the Onondago’s confidence, who first spoke on the subject after we had left the shore, and then only in an answer to a remark of Guert’s.

      “No danger,” he said; “red-man gettin’ Yengeese scalps, on the war-path. Too much kill, now, to want more.”

      As both governments pursued the culpable policy of paying for human scalps, this suggestion probably contained the whole truth.

      Previously to quitting the creek, however, there was a difficulty to dispose of. Jaap had brought his Huron prisoner with him; and the Onondago declared that the canoe could not carry six. This we knew from experience, indeed, though five went in it very comfortably.

      “No room,” said Susquesus, “for red-man. Five good—six bad.”

      “What shall we do with the fellow, Corny?” asked Guert, with a little interest. “Jaap says he is a proper devil, by daylight, and that he had a world of trouble in taking him, and in bringing him in. For five minutes, it was heads or tails which was to give in; and the nigger only got the best of it, by his own account of the battle, because the red-skin had the unaccountable folly to try to beat in Jaap’s brains. He might as well have battered the Rock of Gibraltar, you know, as to attempt to break a nigger’s skull, and so your fellow got the best of it. What shall we do with the rascal?”

      “Take scalp,” said the Onondago, sententiously; “got good scalp—war-lock ready—paint, war-paint—capital scalp.”

      “Ay, that may do better for you, Master Succetush”—so Guert always called our guide, “than it will do for us Christians. I am afraid we shall have to let the ravenous devil go, after disarming him.”

      “Disarmed he is already; but he cannot be long without a musket, on this battle-ground. I am of your opinion, Guert; so, Jaap, release your prisoner at once, that we may return to Ravensnest, as fast as possible.”

      “Dat berry hard, Masser Corny, sah!” exclaimed Jaap, who did not half like the orders he received.

      “No words about it, sir, but cut his fastenings”—Jaap had tied the Indian’s arms behind him, with a rope, as an easy mode of leading him along. “Do you know the man’s name?”

      “Yes, sah—he say he name be Muss”—probably Jaap’s defective manner of repeating some Indian sound; “and a proper muss he get in, Masser Corny, when he try to cotch Jaap by he wool!”

      Here I was obliged to clap my hand suddenly on the black’s mouth, for the fellow was so delighted with the recollection of the manner in which he had got the better of his red adversary, that he broke out into one of the uncontrollable fits of noisy laughter, that are so common to his race. I repeated the order, somewhat sternly, for Jaap to cut the cords, and then to follow us to the canoe, in which the Onondago and my two friends had already taken their places. My own foot was raised to enter the canoe, when I heard heavy stripes inflicted on the back of some one. Rushing back to the spot where I had left Jaap and his captive, Muss, I found the former inflicting a severe punishment, on the naked back of the other, with the end of the cord that still bound his arms. Muss, as Jaap called him, neither flinched nor cried. The pine stands not more erect or unyielding, in a summer’s noontide, than he bore up under the pain. Indignantly I thrust the negro away, cut the fellow’s bonds with my own hands, and drove my slave before me to the canoe.

Chapter XXIV

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      “Pale set the sun—the shades of evening fell,

       The mournful night-wind sung their funeral knell;

       And the same day beheld their warriors dead,

       Their sovereign captive and their glory fled!”

      —Mrs. Hemans

      I shall never forget the journey of that fearful night. Susquesus paddled the canoe, unaided by us, who were too much fatigued with the toil of the day, to labour much, as soon as we found ourselves in a place of safety. Even Jaap lay down and slept for several hours, the sleep of the weary. I do not think any of us, however, actually slept for the first hour or two, the scenes through which we had just passed, and that, indeed, through which we were then passing, acting as preventives to such an indulgence.

      It must have been about nine in the evening, when our canoe quitted the ill-fated shore at the south end of Lake George, moving steadily and silently along the eastern margin of the sheet. By that time, fully five hundred boats had departed for the head of the lake, the retreat having commenced long before sunset. No order was observed in this melancholy procession, each batteau moving off as her load was completed. All the wounded were on the placid bosom of the ‘Holy Lake,’ as some writers have termed this sheet of limpid water, by the time we ourselves got in motion; and the sounds of parting boats told us that the unhurt were following as fast as circumstances would allow.

      What a night it was! There was no moon, and a veil of dark vapour was drawn across the vault of the heavens, concealing most of the mild summer stars, that ought to have been seen twinkling in their Creator’s praise. Down, between the boundaries of hills, there was not a breath of air, though we occasionally heard the sighings of light currents among the tree-tops, above us. The eastern shore having fewer sinuosities than the western, most of the boats followed its dark, frowning mass, as the nearest route, and we soon found ourselves near the line of the retiring batteaux. I call it the line, for though there was no order observed each party making the best of its way to the common point of destination, there were so many boats in motion at the same time, that, far as the eye could penetrate by that gloomy light, an unbroken succession of them was visible. Our motion was faster than that of these heavily-laden and feebly-rowed batteaux, the soldiers being too much fatigued to toil at the oars, after the day they had just gone through. We consequently passed nearly everything, and soon got on a parallel course with that of the boats, moving along at a few rods in-shore of them. Dirck remarked, however, that two or three small craft even passed us. They went so near the mountain, quite within its shadows, in fact, as to render it difficult to say what they were; though it was supposed they might be whale-boats, of which there were more than a hundred in the flotilla, carrying officers of rank.

      No one spoke. It appeared to me that not a human voice was raised among those humiliated and defeated thousands. The plash of oars, so long as we were at a distance from the line, alone broke the silence of night; but that was incessant. As our canoe drew ahead, however, an hour or two after we had left the shore, and we overtook the boats that had first started, the moaning and groans of the wounded became blended with the monotonous sounds of the oars. In two respects, these unfortunate men had reason to felicitate themselves, notwithstanding their sufferings. No army could have transported its wounded with less pain to the hurt; and the feverish thirst that loss of blood always induces, might be assuaged by the limpid element on which we all floated.

      After paddling for hours, Susquesus was relieved by Jaap, Dirck, Guert and myself occasionally lending our aid. Each had a paddle, and each used it as he saw fit, while the Onondago slept. Occasionally I caught a nap, myself, as did my companions; and we all felt refreshed by the rest and sleep. At length we reached the narrow pass, that separated the Upper from the Lower Lake, and we entered the former. This is near the place where the islands are so numerous, and we were unavoidably made to pass quite close to some of the batteaux. СКАЧАТЬ