Books: Hardscrabble
J >>
John Richardson >> Hardscrabble
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 | 13 |
14
"I had at first apprehended," pursued Ronayne, "that the
Indians would evince disinclination to carry the body so
long a distance, or even at all, but on Waunangee explaining
my desire, they all to my surprise, expressed even eagerness
to meet my wishes, for, as he assured me, the young men
looked upon me as a great warrior who had achieved a deed
of heroism that might procure the distinction of a chief,
and entitling me to their services in all things.
"I certainly thought my honors cheaply enough purchased;
however I was but too glad to appropriate to myself the
respect and good-will which the killing of the Winnebago
had entailed--and matters were soon arranged.
"The body having been removed outside, and the doors
secured as well as, under the circumstances, could be
done, one of the warriors cut from a tree in the adjacent
wood, a semi-circular piece of tough and flexible bark,
about six feet in length, and in the hollow of this, the
murdered father of Maria Heywood, already swathed tightly
in a blanket, was placed. A long pole was then passed
through the equi-distant loops of cord that encircled
the whole, and two of the Indians having, with the
assistance of their companions, raised it upon their
shoulders, it was thus borne--the parties being relieved
at intervals--over the two long miles of road that led
to the skirt of the woods near the encampment. Here the
body of Indians stopped, while Waunangee and myself
repaired to the tent of his father, who no sooner had
heard detailed by his son the account of my Winnebago
killing practice of the preceding evening, than he
overwhelmed me with congratulations, and looked proudly
on the knife, still stained with a spot or two of blood,
which I returned to him, and which he restored to its
usual resting-place on his hip.
"Perceiving that Winnebeg was, like his young men, ready
to do any thing for me. I explained to him my desire to
convey the body of Mr. Heywood across the river, and
bury him secretly in his own grounds, but that it was
necessary, in order to do this effectually, that he and
his son should go with me, and by some circuitous route.
Entering at once into my views, he said he would show me
a place where we could cross without being seen either
from the Fort or from his own encampment, and then led
the way back to the wood where the party were still
waiting.
"The rest is soon told. Dismissing the young men into
the encampment. Winnebeg, with his son, bore the body
within the skirt of the wood, until we reached a bend of
the river hidden from observation, where a canoe with
paddles was drawn up on the beach. There we crossed, and
going round to the rear of the cottage, entered the
garden, and proceeded to the upper end, where at the
summer house, near a favorite rose-tree of Maria's, I
dug with my own hands a hasty grave, in which Winnebeg
and Waunangee placed the body--its only coffin being the
bark that was swathed around it. Of course I always
intended to disinter it at some future, but not distant
period, and bestow upon it the usual rites of burial.
"This painful task accomplished, and the soil having been
carefully replaced, so as to leave no inequality of
surface, I accompanied my friends back by the same route,
and about nine o'clock left the Pottawattamie encampment
with them and a few other warriors of the tribe for the
Fort, which in the crowd I entered without difficulty or
creating suspicion. Watching my opportunity, I stole to
the rear of my bed-room--opened and entered the window--
changed my dress, and made my appearance on parade as
you saw."
"All is ready, sir," said Sergeant Nixon, entering just
as he had concluded, and before Elmsley could offer any
remark on this singular adventure--"the coffin is in the
scow, and Corporal Collins, Green and Philips are there
also with their shovels, ropes, and picks. If Mr. Elmsley
will give me permission," and he touched his cap to that
officer. "I will go too, sir."
"As sergeant of the guard--no, Nixon, my good fellow,
that will never do. The three men you have named, are,
with myself, quite enough. Be on the look-out though, to
let us in on our return. Have you provided a dark lantern?"
"Yes, sir, Collins has the lantern belonging to the guard
house."
"Good. I will follow you in a moment, Elmsley," he
continued, rising and draining off his half-emptied glass,
"lend me your prayer-book. I wish that you could be
present at this dismal ceremony, but of course that is
wholly out of the question."
"It is, indeed, my dear fellow. It would never do for us
both to be absent. Not only ourselves but the men would
be brought into the scrape, for you know Headley always
sleeps with one eye open."
"I do not like to do any thing clandestinely," remarked
the ensign--"particularly after our reconciliation with
him. Moreover, it is, as you say, in some degree
compromising the men and myself with them. I have a great
mind before I start to see and explain every thing to
Headley, and obtain his sanction to my absence."
"Nonsense," returned his friend, "he will never know it;
besides it is possible that he may refuse to let you go
before morning, and your object is, of course, to have
every thing finished to-night. Take my advice; go without
speaking to him on the subject, and if your remorse of
conscience," and he smiled archly, "be so great afterwards,
as to deprive you of more rest and appetite than you lost
after killing that poor devil of a Winnebago, go to him
as you did before--confess that you have again been a
naughty boy--ask his pardon, and I am sure he will forgive
the crime."
"Well, I believe you are right. Be it so. Adieu, I shall
be back within a couple of hours at the latest."
"If you do, you will in all probability find me still
poring over this old Intelligencer, which is full of
rumors of approaching war with the British."
"I shall be more inclined to hug my pillow," replied the
ensign as he departed, "for I must again cross to the
cottage, and be back here before guard-mounting to-morrow."
Within ten minutes the party--two of them having borne
the empty coffin, and the corporal the necessary implements,
stood near the rose-tree in the garden. The body of Mr.
Heywood was disinterred--the bark in which it lay wound
round with many folds of a large sheet, and placed in
the coffin, which after being screwed down, was deposited
in a grave dug at least five feet under the surface. Then
commenced the burial service, which was read by the young
officer in a slow and impressive tone, and by the light
of the shaded lantern, which, falling obliquely upon the
forms of the men, discovered them standing around the
grave--one foot resting on the edge--the other drawn
back, as they awaited the signal to lower their almost
offensive burden into its last resting-place. At length
the prayers for the dead were ended, and the grave was
carefully filled up, leaving as before, no inequality,
but too deep to attract the scent of Loup Garou. Then
after having dug up a few small roots of the sweet briar,
and placed them at intervals on the newly-turned earth.
Ronayne crossed with his little party to the Fort, glad
to obtain a few hours of that repose, for which the
harassing events of the day had so much predisposed him.
CHAPTER XIII.
The fourth of July 1812, was a more than usual gala-day
in the little Fort of Chicago, for in addition to the
National Jubilee, there was to be celebrated one of a
private, yet not less interesting nature. On that evening
Ensign Ronayne was to espouse, in the very room in which
he had first been introduced to her the woman he had so
long and so ardently loved, and who, her mother having
after a severe struggle become convalescent, had conformably
to her promise, yielded a not reluctant consent to his
proposal that this day of general joy, should be that of
the commencement of their own happiness.
At that remote period, and in the absence of duly ordained
clergymen, it was customary for marriages to be performed
by the Governors of Districts and by commanding officers
of distant Forts, and these, perfectly legal, were
subsequently as inclination, or scruple of conscience
induced, celebrated in the usual manner. The early
marriages of British subjects in Canada, soon after its
conquest from the French, as well as many of those of
the colonies now known as the United States, took place
in this manner, and the custom had been continued until
increased population provided the means of securing that
spiritual comfort, which it must, of course, have been
impossible for one dressed in a red coat instead of a
black one, to impart.
But neither Maria Heywood or Ronayne stood much on this
punctilio. Provided the ceremony was legal, and according
to the customs of the country, it mattered little who
married them--the governor of a district--the commandant
of a garrison, or a Gretna Green blacksmith--had they
felt at all disposed to avail themselves of the services
of the latter.
It was a lovely day, and every thing seemed to smile upon
the denizens of that region, from the early dawn until
the setting of the sun. Officers and men were in their
brightest uniforms--the women and children in their
holiday dresses. A splendid new Star Spangled Banner--the
work of Maria Heywood's hands--floated in the dazzling
rays of the sun, upon the southern bastion of the Fort.
Joy and pride sat on every brow. They exulted at the
recollection of that hardly won freedom from injustice,
which was that day to be celebrated for the thirty-sixth
time.
At noon the cannon thundered forth their bursts of
rejoicing. This was the signal for the numerous
Pottawattamies outside, all of whom had decked themselves
for the occasion, to approach nearer to the Fort. On the
glacis they discharged their guns and rifles, and seemed
to have but one spirit with the allies to whom they
appeared to have devoted themselves. Winnebeg, however,
though long expected, had not yet returned, and nothing
yet had been seen of Waunangee, since his departure on
the day following the little incident which occurred in
Elmsley's apartments.
Contrary to that unnatural etiquette which enjoins that
two betrothed persons, who are expected to be inseparable
after marriage, should never show themselves together in
public immediately before, Ronayne had after parade
ascended the rampart, with Maria Heywood leaning upon
his arm, occasionally glancing at the group of
gaily-costumed Indians, who were amusing themselves on
the green, but oftener admiring the lovely view, softened
by distance, which was presented in various points, and
particularly towards the farm--the theatre of events
which the otherwise happy girl, could not at that moment
avoid bringing to her recollection.
While gazing in that direction, her eye fell upon the
form of a young Indian who was leaning against the corner
of the picketed bastion on her left, in the shallow, dry,
and grass-covered ditch that surrounded it. At first her
glance caught an indistinct human form dressed in the
Indian garb, but as her gaze settled on the object, her
surprise was great to recognise Waunangee, who was even
then looking at her with the same softened and eloquent
expression, which had given her so much anxiety on a
former occasion. The impression produced upon her was
exactly what it had been then--indescribable--inexplicable
to herself.
"What is the matter, my love?" inquired Ronayne tenderly,
and pressing her arm to his heart--"what fixes your
attention below?" then seeing the Indian himself. "Ah!
Waunangee, my friend!" he exclaimed, "where have you been
all this time? Come round to the gate and shake hands
with my wife."
"No, no, no, do not call him up, Ronayne--you cannot
think how much the presence of that Indian troubles me."
"Nay, dearest Maria, you are not yourself. Why continue
this strong dislike against the poor fellow? I thought
you had quite forgiven him."
Was it accident--was it modesty, or was it a consciousness
that his presence was not desired by at least one of the
parties, that prevented the young Indian from obeying
the summons of the officer. Whatever the cause, he assumed
a serious mein, and playing one of those melancholy airs
which so often, at that time, might be heard proceeding
from the rude flute of their race, walked slowly away.
"I fear you have offended him, Maria. Oh! if you knew--"
"Ronayne--dearest Harry!" interrupted his betrothed--"I
have never said anything of this before to you, because,
after all, it is but an idle fancy, yet I cannot divest
myself of the idea that this Indian, interesting and
prepossessing as he is, is somehow or other connected
with my future fate. Nay," as the young officer smiled
in playful mockery, "you may ridicule my presentiment,
which is, I confess, so much at variance with good sense,
that I almost blush to introduce the subject, but still
I cannot banish the impression."
"Then, I will assist you in doing so, dearest, even though
at the risk of re-opening a newly-closed wound," remarked
her lover, with deep affection of manner. "In my narrative
of those events, hastily thrown together, which I gave
you on that memorable night, when I suffered for a period,
almost the torments of the damned, I did not, it seems
to me, name the young Indian, who, with his father, so
greatly aided me on my return to the farm, and even bore
upon his shoulders the sacred charge."
"No, Harry, you did not," quickly rejoined Maria Heywood;
"but I know now whom you mean. It was Waunangee."
"It was," said the ensign--"I know your knowledge of that
fact will change your feelings towards him."
"They are changed--even at this moment, and henceforth
I shall be to him as a sister. Ah! how ungrateful must
I have appeared to the poor fellow. I shall conquer this
silly weakness: I have misunderstood my own impressions,
and it must have been that I have mistaken the influence
Waunangee has had for that which is to be. Call him up
now, Ronayne, and I will cheerfully give him my hand,
and promise to love him as a brother in return for the
devotion he has evinced, not less for you than for my
poor father."
"Time enough, repentant sinner," returned the young
officer, at the same time casting his glance rapidly over
the group of Indians, who were amusing themselves at
various athletic games. "I can see nothing of him. Your
evident displeasure," he added playfully, "has destroyed
his peace, as indeed you might have known from that
plaintive ditty. However, dearest girl, I shall see him
soon, and make him promise to be present this evening at
the nuptials of his friend and sister. Nay, if I had not
engaged Elmsley, I should insist on his being my bridesman."
The only notice taken of this sally was a faint smile
from his companion, who now descended with him from the
rampart and proceeded to the apartments of Mrs. Elmsley,
where her mother and herself had once more been visitors
for the last few days. Here they separated to meet again
in the evening--Ronayne directing his attention to his
various duties, and looking out at intervals for his
young Indian friend.
It was night. No accident had occurred beyond the laceration
of two of Ephraim Giles's fingers, who having that day
been presented with a new suit by the doctor--the fac-simile
in fashion of the old--had been whittling almost in front
of one of the guns when discharged, and lost, with the
skin of his finger, both his stick and his knife. The
sultriness of the day had been succeeded by a cool and
refreshing air. Gaiety and content every where prevailed,
and many were the voices--male and female--that exclaimed,
as allusion was made to the ceremony all knew, to be in
progress: "God bless them, and make them happy, as they
deserve to be." A large tub of whisky-punch, the gift of
the commanding officer, had been brewed by Von Vottenberg,
for their mid-day revel, and this, all had been unanimous
in pronouncing the best medicine the doctor had ever
administered to them; and now in small social messes,
seated round their rude tables, covered with tin goblets,
and pitchers of the same metal--the mothers with their
children at their side or upon their knees, and the
fathers and unmarried men puffing clouds of smoke from
their short pipes--which they filled from two others
placed on an elevated settle--one in each block house
--which the happy Ronayne had given them on the occasion.
Even the guard was moderately supplied, and the sentries
alone, pacing to and fro in their limited walk, felt the
bitterness of privation, as they counted the minutes that
must elapse before they could join in the festivities
which the loud voice and ringing laugh, occasionally
wafted to their ears, told them were in progress.
In the rooms of the commanding officer there was more
than the usual manifestation of the anniversary. All had
dined at an early hour, but a large side-board that stood
in one corner of the council room--always fitted up on
these occasions--was covered with vases containing wines,
liqueurs, juleps, and punches of various kinds--the latter
the work of the indefatigable son of Esculapius, and of
these the host and his guests partook freely, in
commemoration of the day. At the opposite end of the room
had been raised a sort of tribune for the orator of the
day, but as it was intended the address should be impromptu,
no name had been mentioned, nor could any one know, until
the moment when the majority of voices should select him
on whom the office was to devolve. In the fear entertained
by each that he should be the party selected, the glass,
to impart the necessary courage, was not spared. But he
who was not in the room, or of the number of those devoted
to the punch-bowl was the person chosen. As if by one
impulsive consent, Ronayne, who was seated in the inner
room, and discoursing of any thing but politics to his
betrothed, found himself loudly called upon--knew it
was in vain to object--and reluctantly rose in obedience
to the summons.
"Come young gentleman," said Captain Headley, entering
with an air of gaiety by no means usual to him, "you are,
it appears, in all things," and he bowed significantly
to Maria Heywood, "the chosen of the evening--but
recollect," he added, as he drew his arm through his own,
and proceeded towards the larger apartment where Ronayne
was awaited, "as you acquit yourself of YOUR duty, so
shall I of MINE."
"I shall do my best, sir," replied the youth, in the same
light tone, "but of the two orations, I know which will
be the best suited to my own taste."
The other ladies, with the exception of Mrs. Heywood,
had also risen, and now stood grouped near Captain Headley,
who, with Maria Heywood on his arm, leaned against the
door-way separating the two rooms--while Ronayne, amid
cheers and congratulations, made his way to the tribune,
at the farther end of the apartment.
His address was necessarily not long--for independently
of the impatience he could not but entertain at that
moment of all subjects but that nearest his heart, he
was by no means ambitious of making a display of his
powers of elocution. Yet, notwithstanding this, he treated
his theme in so masterly a manner, and in such perfectly
good taste, omitting all expressions of that rancor
towards Great Britain, which forms so leading a feature
in American orations on this occasion, and yet reflecting
honor on the land of his birth--alluding, moreover, to
the high position even then occupied by the nation, and
the future greatness which he predicted, from its laws,
its institutions, and peculiar form of government, awaited
it--that Maria Heywood could not fail to experience a
secret pride in the warm, and evidently sincere acclamation
of the little party present, attesting as they did, their
estimate of the worth of him, who in another hour, would
be her own for life.
As Ronayne descending from the tribune, passed to the
other side of the room, he looked out of the door which
had been left open, not more on account of the heat, than
to afford the men and their families an opportunity of
hearing the discourse thus delivered--almost the first
person who came under his glance was Waunangee, for whose
admission he had given orders to the serjeant of the
guard, and who now, in compliance with his pressing
entreaty, had attended. He was becomingly dressed in deer
skin, richly embroidered, pliant and of a clear brown
that harmonized well with the snowy whiteness of his
linen shirt, which was fastened with silver brooches,
while on the equally decorated leggins, he wore around
the ankle, strings of minute brass bells. On his head
floated the rich plumage of various rare birds, but no
paint was visible beyond the slightest tint of vermilion
on the very top of each cheek-bone, rendering even more
striking the expression of his soft dark eyes.
Beckoning to him, Ronayne drew the young Indian within
the door, which had he not accidentally distinguished
him in the crowd, he was quite too modest to enter alone.
Then drawing his arm through his own, he led him, coloring
and embarrassed at the novelty of the scene, to the place
where Captain Headley was still lingering with his charge.
The moment they were near enough, the latter held out
her hand to Waunangee, and with all the warmth of her
generous nature, pressed that which he extended. The
young Indian colored more deeply even than before--his
hand trembled in hers--and the look of thankfulness which
he bent upon her, in return for this unmistakable
confidence, had all the touching melancholy of expression
which she had remarked in them at their first meeting.
Again a mingled sentiment of confusion and distrust
suffused the cheek, and for a moment oppressed the spirit
of Maria Heywood in despite of herself, and she almost
wished Waunangee had not returned. The thought however,
was momentary. She felt the folly, the injustice of her
feelings, and anxious to atone for them, she nervously
--almost convulsively grasped the hand of the Indian,
carried it to her lips, and said in her full, sweet and
earnest tones, that he must ever be her brother as she
would ever be his sister.
"And now," said Captain Headley to the young officer,
"what reward do you expect for your maiden oration? What
shall it be, Miss Heywood?"
"I will spare her the trouble of an answer," interposed
Ronayne, as he took the arm which had just disengaged
itself from that of the commandant, and placed it within
his own, "until you have set your seal to the priceless
gift," and his eyes looked all the intensity of his
feeling; "I part not with it again."
"Every thing is ready is the next room," answered Captain
Headley--"go in. When I have announced that the ceremony
is about to take place, I shall hasten to give you the
dear girl for life," and imprinting a kiss upon her brow,
he passed on to those who were paying their homage to
the punch-bowl, and discussing the merits of the oration
just delivered.
It was with a flushed cheek, and a beating heart that
Maria Heywood was led by Ronayne, radiant with hope and
joy, to the little table covered with plain, white linen,
and illuminated by half a dozen tall candles, behind
which the commanding officer had placed himself on an
elevated estrade.
All of the guests were grouped around, a little in the
rear, while Lieutenant Elmsley stood on the right hand
of his friend, and his wife on the left of the betrothed.
Next to her, in an arm chair, which, provided with rollers,
was easily moved, Mrs. Heywood--and with her beautiful
arms reposing on the high back of this, stood Mrs. Headley
in graceful attitude, watching the ceremony with almost
maternal interest. Immediately behind Ronayne, from whom
he evidently did not like to be separated, stood Waunangee,
with an air of deep dejection, yet casting glances rapidly
from one to the other of his two friends.
When the young officer, after having formally received
the bride from her mother, whose strength barely permitted
her to rise and go through that part of the ceremony,
proceeded to place the ring upon the finger of his wife,
it fell, either from nervousness or accident upon the
matted floor. Quick as thought, Waunangee, who had now
his whole attention bent upon the passing scene, stooped,
picked it up, and attempted to place it on the finger,
still extended, for which it was designed.
"Gently, Waunangee, my good fellow," said the officer,
piqued not less at his own awkwardness at such a moment,
than at the outre act of the youth, from whom he rather
unceremoniously took it--"the husband only does this."
"Wah!" involuntarily exclaimed the other, his cheek
becoming brighter, and his eyes kindling into sudden
fierceness, while his hand intuitively clutched the handle
of his knife--yet the moment afterwards relinquished it.
The motion had been so quick, indeed, that only Mr.
Headley and the bride herself had noticed it.
Still fascinated as it were by the novel scene, Waunangee
moved not away, but the expression of his eyes had wholly
changed. There was no longer to be remarked there the
great melancholy of the past--but the wild restless,
flashing glance that told of strong excitement within.
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 | 13 |
14