The buccaneers a romance of our own country, in its ancient day : illustrated with divers marvellous histories, and antique and facetious episodes : gathered from the most authentic chronicles & affirmed records extant from the settlement of the Niew Nederlandts until the times of the famous Richard Kid |
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| 3. | SECTION III. |
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 | The buccaneers |  |
SECTION III.
And the cold wind bloweth loud,
The close ground's sparkling with the snow
Whiter than a dead man's shroud;
Like a thousand scattered diamonds glow,
And with a thousand shadowings blent—
In one white flood the storm doth rave,
O'erwhelming nature in a snowy grave.
THE JOURNEY AND THE TEMPEST.
Taking a route entirely in an opposite direction from
the river, the party proceeded for some time over a clear
and level country, here and there scantily strown with
the poplar and wild locust, and thickets of leafless underwood,
fast dying to rottenness beneath the eager tread of
winter, and outspread far and near, with one vast and
wide sheet of snow, that within its huge embrace hid
every vestige of green and verdure that the unpitying
frost had spared. A wild, desolate, and dreary aspect pervaded
all, and as the last glimpse of the habitation of man
died away with the ferry-house they were leaving, it
looked as though the travellers had entered on a boundless
and trackless wilderness, which had heretofore been
untrodden by a step of human life. Their eyes so late
cheered by the blazing hearth of Vanderspeigl's home,
and unaccustomed to the ghastly whiteness that shone
from the earth o'er which they trod, and the thick blackness
of the atmosphere, that like a funeral mantle crowded
on them, at first almost refused to distinguish the nearer
objects; but as their sight grew used to these, in spite of
the gloomy visage of the cloudy and lowering heavens,
the savage, barren prospect, unchequered with a sign of
pleasure, was laid before the view, plain and palpable in
cold and icy magnificence. At times, as they hastened on
livery, stunted and bowing low and mournful before the
wind like an aged man grey-haired with anguish, the very
emblem of decay and death, started suddenly within the
way; and again, right in the path would spring, towering
loftily in solitary splendour, a blasted larch, barkless,
seared, withered, and branchless, rising from the ground
like some infernal god or phantom of lost mortality, with
the snow about it as it were wrapt in a burial garb; and
then the breath of the storm as it flitted above the banks
of drift would drive fiercely and roughly against them, filling
the air with wild and floating particles of haze, of wet
and yellow leaves and the shattered splinters of the forest,
seeking an entrance into every opening and fold of their
cloaks. And now they would startle upon the courses of
the roaming moose, and the tracks of the savage and unwieldy
bear were left fresh and vivid as but a moment
before he had passed upon the crisp and sinking snow,
driven forth from his den by the pinching calls of hunger;
deep in the distant solitude, faint as echo, came to their
ears the sharp barkings of the wild fox, and the deceptive
screams of the wakeful lynx aping an infant perishing in
the night; and at times, so close to the path wandered this
tameless and ferocious tyrant of the woods, that the fallen
dampness could not destroy or dissipate the sweet perfume
of his hide, and fearfully for an encounter would the
travellers grasp their pistolets against the threatening
danger. Once through the dense mist that bound the
horizon, there came, losing strength as it approached,
the afar off report of a musquetoon followed by the whoop
of some belated hunter seeking his watch fire and his
comrades, and an interval scarce ended ere there bounded
in front of their road, affrighted, with his brown neck
arched like an Indian bow and breathing heavily with
speed, a gallant and antlered stag, hieing to the wooded
and the mountain glade for safety, and as his wandering
and distracted eye caught with a sudden and terrified
glance the approaching company, he with redoubled haste
strained the thick muscles of his broad and ample chest
in flight—yet this passage, the herald of man's presence,
follows in the wake of his steps,) was broken and buried
by the wind, as scarce to be known from the mournful
and melancholy murmur of the half frozen rivulet, as it
tinkled over its hollow bed, winding in its course like a
gliding serpent, and wimpling about the rocks and the
blue cakes of ice, the very offspring of its own bosom,
that impeded its once rapid and arrowy flowings.
After a brief journeying along this waste, the road of a
sudden took a different course, and stretching narrowly
on the marshy margin of a considerable piece of water,
the sluggish and nearly sleeping waves of which, gelid
with cold, and half formed in ice, scarce murmured as
they heavily rolled in vast sheets to the shore, became
broken, trackless and uneven, intersected with frequent
sloughs and deep and abrupt hollows filled often with
soft snow, deceiving at a glance the most experienced
sight with a surface of firmness and strength, but which
when risked, instantaneously sank down beneath the
trusting weight, while the water rushed upwards through
the gaps gurgling as with anger, and flooded all above to
a considerable distance, swithering and almost endangering
the safety of the tempter—dried, decayed and withered
weeds such as line the borders of fresh streams, lay
stricken beneath the feet as though cut down by the destroying
hand of the mower, yet stiff with clinging icicles
that cracked and crumbled in pieces when trod on—stagnant
pools, swoln and half mud, bound in a thin and fragile
covering of fresh made ice, as weak as isinglass, and
often fenced with sharp rushes that bristled around them
like pointed stakes, were momently to be leaped by those
on foot, while the riders and their horses floundered
clumsily through the fords, casting on every side the
black dirt that lined the very depths, and often from the
dangerous sliding and stumbling of the hoofs on the slimy
edges of these pit-holes clearing them at the very risk of
the horsemen's lives—the travellers had not proceeded
long ere they felt the fatigue arising from the pursuance
of a route against such difficulties and roughness of
ground.
From the period of setting forth, until this part of their
travel, but very little conversation, to what, from the
characters, might have been expected, had passed between
them, and it was not until they had finished the
toilsome task of wading through the miry, quaggy and
unsound road, and had by dint of great exertion, gained
the hard and stony ground that extended beyond it, that
the path, which had began slightly to ascend, yet in an
extreme rugged and difficult manner and shelving above
the bed of the creek, admitted any regular or formal
attempts at social speech, besides exclamations, and now
and then a cry for assistance, or an assurance of encouragement
in their mutual perils, as they dragged themselves
through the impeding bogs, drawing their bodies
wearily and heavily along. Slow and with tiresome efforts
they mounted the way which now gradually wound towards
a gloomy line of hill and forest that skirted far
across the country—yet on one side, while rocks, woods,
and crags, like white spectres rose wildly above them, on
the other, a quick descent showed a deep, black abyss,
far down, in which scarce distinguishable, the waters by
whose brink they late had passed lay sullenly chafing the
mountain's root, looking like a lake of ink—and close
behind crept one dense and unpiercable mass of mist
and darkness.
“By my halidome, this view repays one for an age of
toil and hardship,” here broke out the elder traveller, as
with delighted eye he gazed upon the wild and stormy
scene around him, “yea! yon is the very heaven that Romain
de Hooghe copied in his deluge at Coerverdon,—by
the pallet of Tempesta, this shall not be lost—in spite of
the night, from this rock, I may catch a portion of the
landscape, and who can tell, that when I, now Jost Stoll,
ensign of the province, next kiss the hand of his majesty
William the third, he may speak to me as he would to a
La Fage, a Redenger, or a Van Kuelen—but I must hasten
lest those black troops of clouds flit on—
“Was there ever such childish madness—such unguarded
folly,” said the companion in a bitter tone, and
seemingly highly angered and provoked—“a boy might
men's lives than thee—did I not warn thee before, Sir,
to silence, yet now you have added to the fault which was
so lately reproved—by my troth, if these men be in want
of hearing, the wilderness may have ears you wot not of
—nay Sir, you need not lay your hand upon your sword
—I say again this is neither time nor place to indulge
your idle humour.
“Pardon, friend Hal,” returned the other, “you know
I am touchy, and however just, your reproof was galling
—I was in error—but what man of taste—who that like
me has seen the paintings at Hampton-Court—the works
of Andrea Mantegna—of Guido—of Caracci—
“Enough, ensign,” interposed the younger; “look to
the desert we are traversing, for an you set out to sketch
every glade we pass, I shall not marvel but morning will
see us either frozen into statues or buried beneath the
tornado which is again gathering over us.”
The road was now followed awhile in silence, but
which was shortly broken by another of the party;—and
this was Mass Tribulation, whose spirit had a long time
been contending within him for utterance; for however
the dangers of the way during their partial existence employed
his curious and active mind, yet the bone breaking
jolts of his limping steed, which at every step either
flung him prostrate and almost breathless along the hind
quarters of the animal, or as by way of reversion forced
him to forego the mastery of the halter, and cling with
quickness for the preservance of his carcass, by both
arms to the neck of the jaded beast—were not sufficient
to drive from him a certain inquiring and searching
vein which began stoutly to move him, and which soon
betokened itself by sundry stray and singular queries,
which he sought at convenient opportunities to put at the
strangers, particularly to the younger, in whom appeared
somewhat of authority beyond the senior; and although
the answers he received had little of satisfaction or encouragement
in them, he still perservered in his curiosity.
Indeed, no rebuff had on him the least effect; for the
godly youth's assurance was naturally imperturbable—and
modern journalists, extremely capable of every change,
and comfortable to the security of its possessor—in short,
he was endued with those excellent feelings that will take
no offence, or will not understand the most pointed insult
if not convenient to receive it; and like the ignoble spaniel,
the more he was abused if he thought it would gain
him any thing, the more patiently he would bear, and
fawn on the hand which struck him. Indeed, he was a
creature of that hardened cast of visage which once set,
it was a matter of difficulty to discompose, and therefore
although heretofore completely driven from the point he
wished to gain, he remodelled his attempt; and a cold
and unsatisfactory return to some preliminary remark,
was unable to overawe him, or prevent his again aiming
at the same object.
“Ye're not much used to sich going, I take it,” droned
forth the pious psalmsetter, varying his key at every
word, as was his custom, and abruptly dragging his gaunt
limbs across the steed which he bestrode, so that with a
very slight inclination of body, which was given by the
motion of the horse, his sugar-loaf shaped hat came in
contact with the visage of the person he addressed, to the
imminent danger of his sight; “yea, on my salvation they
bear similitude unto the unwholesome doings and ways of
man, which are strewed even like to this on which we
journey, with numerous darksome and dolorous pits, from
whose depths cometh mighty wailings, and repentance,
and direful moaning and tribulation, even as is set down
in the tenth hymn, which goeth in long metre. I take it
as ye're late from beyond sea, that ye can guess
whether the man William, whom they call king, is like to
succeed over him they name James. And truly I wonder,
natheless I inwardly opine whether thou art not laden
with words for the ear of Jacob Leisler, even he who is
the temporal ruler of the colony since the fleeing of the
boaster Nicholson.”
At every breathing space in this harangue, which he
whined and drawled forth word by word to an exceeding
length, through his capacious nostrils, (these last adding
made at least a minute's pause, possibly with the hope that
he might obtain some information in repayment for his dolorous
exercise of lungs; but he to whom he spoke seemed
placable and content to endure the whole flood of the
sermon, a taciturn hearer: but this was not what Tribulation
wanted, as, although few men delighted more in the
patience of his listeners, yet he was at this period rather
desirous of being spoken to than of keeping up the whole
burden of the conversation. He therefore, chagrined at
his disappointment, yet as in a pleasant mood, guided his
charger's head to the side of the elder stranger, whose
good natured looks had early proclaimed that silence was
painful to him; and in the same snuffling notes the worthy
brother proceeded. “I take it ye've found the way tedious
—on my salvation, three times have I liked to fall from
the back of the dumb brute that beareth me, the Lord
preserve me from a fourth chance—I suppose likely ye're
seeking to trade at Yorke with notions, or sich like—
things are dull, sister Hepzibah Gotobed says, that she
could not sell a bushel of cabbages there to any profit—I
take it the niggers from the Jarseys cut up that business.”
“Why who in the devil's name do you take us for?”
warmly returned the man questioned, somewhat nettled
at being so widely mistaken in dignity—do I look like a
cabbage trader—you snuffling dog—I that have studied
the masterpieces of Lely, and Houbraken, of Zatch-leeven
and Heek—who have lounged with the wits at Will's Coffee
house—have frequented the Park and White's—who
have in my day been a true Cavalier—who have kissed
the hand of his sacred majesty at Whitehall in full levee
—by my halidome this is scandalum magnatum against
science, painting, and taste, you canting rascal—did not
his majesty say to me—Mienheer Jost Stoll von Nord
America wy leeren—”
“I am again forced to remind you, Ensign Jost Stoll,
since so you will be termed,” interrupted his comrade,
“that the fewer words you use the more praise-worthy
will be your forbearance—I beg you not to be again wanting
in care—
“Why, Governor, cannot one open his lips unless—”
“Whence this loquacity,” cried the other angrily—
“these disclosures are as uncalled for, as imprudent at
this juncture—can you not rein in your tongue, but must
it be ever thus unruly, or has the hand of treason been
busied with thee that thus—”
“Treason! do you mean that,” retorted Jost Soll hastily,
“Colonel, I have an Andrea Ferrara by my side,
that hath seen some service, and I know something of
your stockadoes and imbrocadoes—so if you want a subject
for a picture in the style of Le Brun and Parrocell,
I am your man—bilbo's the word with Jost Stoll”—and
he placed himself firmly, putting on a fierce look, and
blowing up his cheeks until his face resembled a fiery
ball, and at the same time he manfully touched the hilt of
his rapier—“your situation did not call for such a rebuke,”
pursued the enraged ensign, “and as I am a soldier—”
“This is useless,—though you may take leave of sense
Ensign Stoll, I am not so far lost; at present Sir I am your
superior; therefore move on, hereafter if your passion
holds, we can discourse of this matter more at leisure,
and if any satisfaction then—”
“Nay—nay Sir—I am drawing without rule, my lines
are all wrong,” said Jost Stoll, his warmth of feeling dying
away as a sudden reflection forced him to perceive the
incautious conduct into which he betrayed himself, and
the full extent of the danger which might arise from the
knowledge he had already made known to the guides by
his former remarks—“I did not think as I spoke—but I
have done ill—here, Hal's my hand, let's not allow a
quarrel between old comrades—I shall strive to act better
in future—while as to you” continued he, haughtily
drawing himself up and turning to the pacific Tribulation
“I see it is merely proving the saw, that it is throwing
pearl to swine to discourse with thee.”
The dignity intended to have been thrown into this
sentence, however was entirely lost on the person to
whom the reproof was pointed, for he made now no attempt
at an answer, nor appeared desirous in any manner
change had taken place in his very disposition, which
may hereafter be divined—yet what had first fallen from
the ensign had been differently received by him—a slight
grin moved his features with the same power as a loosened
anvil, and disclosed the putrid population of his jaws;
indeed, the thin, long, hollow, and half-starved countenance
of the precious Tribulation was for an instant
lighted up as with a certain satisfaction of his inward spirit,
(as he might have described it) as though from the remarks
that had passed he had gathered something of more
than ordinary importance to his self interest; and truly so
satisfied did he appear with what he had obtained, that
he did not anew strive in any way to pursue his seeking,
and although for a short period be anxiously, probably
in hopes that further words of moment might be dropped,
endeavoured to keep up with the rest of the cavalcade,
which now at the desire of the younger stranger pursued
the way at a brisker pace, which was often remonstrated
against by the Dutchman, who complained in a lugubrious
accent “dat his paard would loosh mores wind as
was in his bodies”—yet finding all remained silent, the
wily Wholesome by degrees began to linger behind, in
such a manner, however, as to excite no suspicion—except
as wearied by the difficulties of the road.
By this time, the narrow path had assumed a still more
mountainous aspect, presenting at intervals almost insurmountable
obstacles to the rapid progress of the travellers;
for leading up a broken and precipitous ledge of
rock they ascended a passage, or rather gully worn in
the sides of the hill, and which continued its course over
the very brow of the highland, so that in a very short
space the way became so extremely steep and dangerous,
and often the brief line of the rock which they occupied
was so obstructed by huge projecting pieces of granite
and fragments of grey and shattered crags bedded for
ages in the ravine, that it was rarely possible to keep
the ground abreast, or even to distinguish the route
many yards ahead; and here and there nearly blocking
the further procedure as well as sight, would stretch
claws of the spider had twisted and warped themselves
in the fissures of the cliffs, half covered with dark garments
of ice, mingled with the undying and fadeless moss,
while a shower of wet and snow dropped down, as the
passengers passed beneath the bare, solitary and blighted
branches, that still clung to it, and guarded it with embowering
arms, seeming like the spears of a warrior,
over whom the brunt of the conflict had borne, but who
yet remained, though seared, dauntless and unconquered—while
far down in the hollow glen to the left, in the
breaks of the dark masses, and shadows of the forest of
wild ash trees, and the tangled copsewood, that clothed
with a shroud of night and cold autumnal dreariness the
ragged edges of the hills, at times could be perceived
some flashing waterfall or distant lagoon, though scarcely
to be marked through the dropping mists, except by
dark or moving spots in the boundless vales of snow,
by which they were encircled: tremors of awe pervaded
the bosoms of the travellers, as they gazed on the
magnificence of unbridled nature which surrounded
them, and the appalling visage of the wilderness seemed
to impress them as it were with a superhuman voice.
Obliged to surmount such obstructions, contrary to
their wishes, reluctantly being on foot, and forced to use
their utmost energy, the two strangers soon began to
feel greatly fatigued in the accomplishment of their
tedious task, and it was not long, ere symptoms of abated
vigor were manifested in their flagging and slackened
walk, and as they ran o'er many a rapid computation of the
distance they had already journeyed, (for when tired and
exhausted in the pursuance of travel, it appears a singular
relief to con over the miles we have crossed,)
they began heartily to desire the assistance, which the
ferrymaster at setting out, had stated they were likely to
obtain from some of his neighbouring settlers—but it
was in vain their sight endeavoured to pierce the surrounding
darkness; the way yet seemed lengthening,
and in spite of their weariness, and what they had already
combated, new inconveniences presented themselves
anxiously listened for, did the baying howl of the guarding
ban-dog proclaim the nearness of an enclosure, nor a
light move its twinkling lustre along the deep vistas of
the close and fantastic figured thickets of hazel and
dwarf oak, that peopled the huge swelling knolls around
them, to give a single hope that a habitation was, in case
of need, attainable: all seemed a lonely solitude—as
desolate and deserted by man, as fitted for the haunt of
the destroying wolf, or the roaming wild cat, whose dens
are in the recesses of the forest, and who fly the human
face.
“By my halidome, though this may be a country fit
for a Salvator to study from, it begins to conquer me,”
exclaimed Jost Stoll, as he impatiently drew closer
his large cloak against the severity of the atmosphere,
and peevishly endeavoured to drag his body
along so as to keep up with his companions, but in the
accomplishment of this necessary exertion, his legs
were forced to contend against a heavy drawback in his
tremendous jackboots, which, whenever they touched
the earth, appeared to take an affection for the soil they
pressed—so much so, that they did not part from its embrace
without carrying away some thick tokens of
remembrance: “an I hold out longer, it will be a miracle,”
continued he, “I trow, if some auxiliary in the
shape of horses comes not soon, I shall never finish another
picture, but shall be left as a league mark in this
dismal waste—by the brush of Parmegiano, a storm looks
well on canvass—but it is rather of sad endurance.”
“In sooth, I have seldom traversed a more tedious
road—and a worse country I have never seen; I did not
expect that the island itself was so wild and poorly inhabited,”
said his comrade in reply; “ensign, I am as
nearly knocked up as you appear to be; indeed I can
hardly keep feet:” and then addressing Vanderspeigl,
he pursued, “master, we have crossed a long stretch of
ground, much more than from your dame's account, I
had supposed lay between your dwelling and its neighbours—and
little used—have we far yet to go?”
The Hollander had, for most of the route, made good
his accustomed silent character, and from being snugly
mounted, he had met less disadvantage from toil, than his
employers, and therefore had full leisure for exercise of
mind—though indeed if he was visited by any thought during
the long interval of absence from speech, which he imposed
on himself, it might have been in what manner he could
most cunningly induce the travellers to add to the sum of
money which he had already received from them for the
use of himself and his string-halted Bucephalus—in
driving the one forth in the cold storm, depriving him of
his accustomed warm sleep in his comfortable slaubonk,
and the other from his pleasant straw couch and manger,—
but being now aroused by the words just spoken to him,
he answered somewhat testily, no doubt, being teased at
his having been so unceremoniously disturbed in the
midst of some very important reverie—“Mien goot Got!
zo u is dired is nien von mien vault—Ik did nien mak
der wegh—blesh mien hertz and zeil, Ik dort dis moud
gome zo, as any oder ding dat u dinks—ja! der jonkers
mill dravel in der nagt mit his koppig vollie—mien Got,
and mien boor merrie muzt zuffer mit his nonshenze.”
“Come, my master, this avoids my asking—the night's
too black and piercing with frost, to waste words—speak
out, are we yet distant from any place where we can
procure horses, and a temporary warming for our almost
chilled frames?”
“Mien Got! vat a hurries der mensch ish in—Ik believes—ja,
dat is, Ik dinks dat—nien—nien, Ik is zure
doo—op mien zeil, dis is no more as dree myl vrom der
Zouth riviere boint—dat ish waar mien kennis Gottlieb
Affleback der hoogdiutscher doktor lives—mien Got—he
has dree more horshes as dat u wants.”
“Three miles, the devil! I can scarce stir ten yards,”
groaned Jost Stoll, “why as true as the pencil of Palma,
your wife said—that is, gave us to understand—”
“Dunner und blexum! der Vrouw kens no more as
vone kind,” cried the Dutchman warmly, “Got tam! vy
u dat tish dree Hollandt myl—mien Got, mores dan voor,
Ik believes—Ik weit het zeer wel; hoe der duivel
should der vyfers dink—op mien zeil, tish niet der
vrouw wark vor do dink—mien Got!”—
At this moment, Tribulation, who had been attracted
by the discourse that was passing and had drawn himself
towards the party interposed—“There dwells
in these parts,” said he, “a pious and worthy brother,
who is a compounder to the righteous, healing the bitter
words to their ears which the unfaithful cast upon them;
of a certainty, he is a preacher of the truth, and is one
who followeth not the bleating of Jeroboam's calves in
Dan and Bethtel, and he hath pitched his tent a short
ride hence, even a stone's throw, in this howling wilderness.
I take it, for a reasonable recompense, forbye
that which the beasts might earn, he will kindly lend unto
ye those of which ye're in need, and at the expense of a
mark, I will, if it please the Lord upon this animal of
mine, go unto the man Job Ne'erdoill, and warn him
of thy neighbourhood and wants.”
After a desultory consultation on this offer, it was determined
as best in the present emergency, that while
the rest slowly proceeded onwards, Mass Wholesome
should seek out the domicile of the patient Job, and having
obtained from that benevolent personage the loan of
his horses, for whose use, however, the psalmodist was
fully empowered to bargain with him, he then should
make all speed in overtaking the party, which, from the
tardiness they now journeyed, would easily be effected.
In pursuance of this arrangement, Tribulation prepared
to turn his palfrey's head and depart down a small opening,
which led from the road on which they were proceeding,
and which seemed rather formed by the foot of
the hunter in pursuit of game, or by some beast of the
wild, as a track and path to his den, than as a way to the
house of man; for the bushes and brambles that fringed
the woods at its mouth being trodden down were the only
sign that denoted its existence—the will, however, of the
holy brother was sooner said than done—for a greater
path than he had first imagined, and this was through
the wilfulness of his gallant steed—this creature who was
so honoured in bearing him, and whose various perfections
have at large been descanted on, added to his other
superior virtues that of balking, and whether he had an
inclination for company and wished to remain with his
nose in the same direction he had set out, it is hard to
discover, at any rate, at the first motion of his rider to
change his position, he placed his forefeet stubbornly a
few paces before his body, and would not in spite and
defiance of sundry kicks, cuffs and knocks which sounded
hollowly through his lean ribs, broach a single step;
nor was it until he had gallantly endured much abuse,
and gone through divers marvellous evolutions that threatened
each time an extraordinary display of Tribulation's
agility in loosening him from the seat which he so manfully
occupied, and after he had been often coaxingly led
forward, that the obstinate animal would in anywise concede
his will or consent to submit to his master's guidance—
and when at last, as if by a sudden freak impelled, he did
set forth, it was at full gallop, over stump and stone, and
down steeps lined with furze and brushwood, as though
flying from the following of an enemy, to whom, as in daring,
it sent back his hate by flourishing one hind leg in
flight like the bow of a fiddler ere he begins his melody,
and merely using in progressing the other three—all however
of which heroic feats were performed to the evident
discomposure of the steady Wholesome;—yet adverse to
this slight difference, they made an excellent appearance
together, for from their thin and meagre aspect, both looked
as though every gust of wind that swept by, would
have blown them away at once.
“Is your friend who has just left us,” said the traveller
to Vanderspeigl, as Mass Wholesome disappeared through
the trees, “always as inqusitive and forward as he has
been to night—or is it the custom of the country to make
such minute inquiries of the business of every wandering
stranger.”
“Mien vriend, wie dells u dat—goot Got—hy ish
mien kennis—ja—hy is nien mien gezelschap,” returned
the Hollander shortly and indignantly, “blesh mien
hertz, dough—zister. Wholesome is mien vrouw's gezelinne—dat
is vat is mien vifer's vriend.”
“Well, then, your wife's friend, since it so pleases
you,” pursued the other smiling, “he is one whose conduct
appears to me to bear a more than ordinary concern
in us—and I demand at you whether it be usual for
him so to demean himself to all he meets, or if it be now
first assumed towards us?”
“Op mien zeil, heer—Ik weet'er niet van—dat is
Engelsch spreeken—Ik droubles mienzelf mit oder beoble's
dings nien mores as dat is noding—zizter Wholesome
breaches mit mien Vrouw, den Ik zmokes mien
byp zo as any's oder mensch dat is redelyk, dat is Hollandts
is nien vone vool.”
Finding no advantage from pressing the Nederlander
further on a subject of which he appeared either wilfully
blind and ignorant, or that from his native indolence and
apathy of disposition, he had not troubled himself to
note, the traveller dropped the discourse—and all silently
pursued the way o'er the waste and barren ridge
of wildly varied and continuous hills, which became,
each moment as they progressed, if possible, more hopelessly
sterile, dreary and disconsolate in aspect—though
in traversing them, their late worn out spirits and frames,
seemed to have gained for a short space, new vigor for
exertion, being renovated in the hopes of receiving early
and speedy succour. But now they had followed the
route for a considerable period beyond that in which
they had solaced themselves in being overtaken by the
messenger Tribulation—and yet not the least sign of the
righteous man was discerned—though every shadow,
and aught that resembled life or living thing, was anxiously
watched for on the expected road. Often, some
dark fir tree, lessened by distance, and shaking its foliage
in the breeze, would for a time, be likened, by the
busy aid of fancy, into the shape and form of an approaching
figure—and again, some broken and ragged
the very turning of the pathway, would cause the party
to stop and call long and loudly, to direct what appeared
vividly their coming friends—but it was vain—minute
after minute flew swiftly on, yet brought not those looked
for: and although the travellers had not, in all probability,
proceeded a half a mile from the spot on which
they had parted with Tribulation, yet full twice the distance
might have been passed with ease, in a much
shorter circle of departing time: from this delay, suspicion
in various guise, took possession of the mind;
the strangers were men who had much to fear—and
such was their situation, that an instant's detention, might
be fraught with consequences of extending and destructive
evil—not only to their personal safety, but to
the perfection of the object they were eagerly hurrying
to attain,—still, as the mind buoyed up by hope,
loves to banquet on the luxury which a fair prospect
presents, various excuses for the delay of master Wholesome,
at first thronged to them, and served for awhile
to banish unfavourable impressions—yet soon against
these, it became evident that he had either lost their
track, or had designedly deserted them. And truly the
latter supposition, had every fair foundation for its support—for
as it is above stated, the cunning hypocrite had
been rather incautiously trusted, through his representations
of the charity of brother Job Ne'erdoill, with a
small earnest of the gold that he was to place in the
kind Job's hands, by way of equivalent to the desired
and generous loan of his animals of labour: and as the
amount received by Wholesome, was what sufficed his
own conscience in the attention he himself had so condescendingly
and beneficially bestowed on the travellers
it is supposed that his long tarrying was caused by a secret
dubitation of spirit and reluctance of soul, in parting
with what sat so comfortably in his pocket; yet the honest
psalmsetter ought not altogether to be considered
capable of such barefaced duplicity, as is here somewhat
laid to his charge, for as it was afterwards
proved by his own lips, in detailing his experience at
thus befell him—that not having been able
to obtain the relief he was sent after, for Job was a
crusty fellow at times, and like many other saints was
given to some of the carnal ways of man, particularly to
taking too much comfort from strong liquors; and being
at the period whereon Tribulation called on him rather
more disguised than usual on account of the cold, he
would not listen to reason, seeing that Wholesome merely
spoke of his lending his horses by way of benevolence,
carefully keeping back all offer of the money or of any
pay whatever; for he very generously told Job that it was
a crying sin, practised by those wallowing in the gall of
bitterness and the floods of iniquity, to seek for a reward
for that which it was the duty of the brethren to extend,
like the Samaritan of old, unto their fellow men; no
matter whether they were given to the mammon of unrighteousness
or followers of the word. But all had no
effect on the obdurate Job, who heard him as patiently as
his namesake in the Scripture might have done; and then
with a hearty oath told him to get out of his house, for
he was not in a humour to hear the word.
Being so refused he departed, and thinking it adviseable,
as the best way to overtake the travellers, he set
forth to make a circuit of the hills and meet them on their
descent to the commons:—which having partly performed,
his inward spirit and its outward attendant, (his body,)
wrestled mightily and grievously one against the other—
and unfortunately the combat was decided in favour of
the unclean and sinful clay, for having been entirely unprepared
for so severe a night, he concluded, with a due
share of reluctance and a lengthy debate thereupon, that
he had better seek the earthly tabernacle of his brother
Baregrace Trebletext, who luckily dwelt within a few
yards of the memorable spot whereon he had held the
profound argument aforesaid; where having alighted,
he consulted the divine upon his speculations of the night,
that nothing blameable should be attached unto him;
stating, that he took it that so small a sum as two marks
could not be an object to persons such as he described
and peradventure worshippers of the scarlet whore
—it was therefore, doubtless, a charity to the sinful
wretches, “men” as he expressed it, “blinded and misled
in spiritual affairs and unconverted in heart; yea,” he
went on, “it would be as snatching brands from the
burning, if the base lucre should be retained for the furtherance
of the good word.” All of which determination
was strengthened and confirmed by the gifted opinion of
that sanctified and reverend pastor Trebletext, who always
qualified his remarks with the saving sentence,
“God willing,” being a true savour of his extraordinary
piety; as is the case with a certain other sacred character
duly ordained but whom it becomes not the unholy to
hint at—nevertheless it is worthy of record, as a serious
proof of his zealous spirit of ministry, that having agreed
to serve one set of his admirers, who gave him a call, as
a fat living is termed, he sent them word that, God willing,
he would shortly be with them; but lo! even saints'
and holy men's assurances are as liable to fail—yea, are
as deceptive as carnal laymen—so the expectations of
the callers were in vain, and only roused for disappointment;
for it came to pass that providence, which feedeth
the hungry, gave the disinterested follower of the Lord
just mentioned, another call elsewhere, whereunto appertained
much more of the goods of this world—yea, and
the salary was of a greater sum, though the first was not
insignificant. But as the gifts of the Lord are not to be
despised, so he deemed it sufficient to inform by writing
those who were looking first for him, “that he could not
come unto them, for lo! God was not willing.”
And after this orthodox fashion it was agreed
by Tribulation and his pious pastor, that the sum
should be equally divided between them; which was
performed in the most equitable manner imaginable—to
wit, Baregrace received one mark while Tribulation kept
the other, and also an odd piece of money, that he had
neglected—or which, rather, in deference to his purity of
conscience, had entirely slipt his memory to mention.
Meanwhile to the bewildered travellers every appearance
of a regular or beaten trackway, which until now
had accompanied their labours, and upheld their courage
from entirely sinking, in the faint belief of yet meeting
some hut or sign of the residence of man, began slowly
yet totally to disappear; while the nature of the ground
on which they trod assumed so break-neck and treacherous
a character—interchangeably of abrupt ascents
and sudden and broken hollows—that it became a
risk of life and limb for the ferrymaster to continue in
the saddle; so that now he was obliged to dismount, and
engage with an uncommon activity to sooth or force the
terrified and reluctant animal forward, along the slippery
borders and brinks of precipices, where it looked as
though the slightest falter, or the breath of the night
would have consigned all who ventured to the edges to
certain oblivion and death. Often did the animal start
back from his course, as sensible of the danger that he was
urged to brave; and scarcely when blinded would he advance,
while his sides heaved with the beating of his
heart, and he panted in terror.
It was now one of those intervals when the snow
had ceased to descend—yet the heavens afforded
not a gleam of light, but were wrapped in a gloomy
and ashen pall, that looked like the trappings of a
burial; still, in one single spot, through a far spread,
round, yet hazy and stormy circlet, shone out the
dying and fading moon, battling for a glimpse of the
earth that it was wont to light, through the huge voluminous
groups of mustering clouds, that at times were
duskily folded over its face—yet went the travellers onwards
with nearly a midnight around them, trampling oftentimes
over the ground bare and naked from the wind,
so that in many places, the lank grass, battling for life
with winter, looked green and felt soft beneath their
tread, until the incautious plashing of their feet, as they
sank in the swampy fen or the morass, would startle the
bittern, the shypoke, the lapwing, or the speckled curlew,
who still lingered about their summer couches, the
oozy nests of dank and withered sedge, to give with
melancholy warning to retrace their steps: and now, the
shadowing, though leafless and forked branches of broad
plumps of ancient oaks, as they drooped above the heads
of the weary journeyers, darkened before and around
them, even beyond the night's blackness—while hosts of
sharp, dried saplings that sprang about each parent tree,
barred all further progress, and would force the party to
return back a considerable distance, thriding close and
tangled thickets of thornberry, spicewood, and wild percimmon,
whose armed heads tore their garments, and
lacerated their flesh.
Though repeatedly questioned, yet the Dutchman for
a long time, steadily affirmed that they were on the right
route, and at every doubt of such assertion, and as appearances
seemed to dispute his correctness, such were now
frequently expressed by his companions, he would reply
or mutter a surly and resentful answer.—“Dat he kennen
der wegh zo goot as oder mensch dat had a nues on his
vace—ja! Got tam,” said he at one time, apparently
provoked, as he was pestered and examined on his
capacity as a guide, and his knowledge of the road,
“dosh der jonker dink Ik vone kind—vone littel
schild—op mien zeil! Ik has drabelled dis blace mit
mien oogleeden closh as dite zo as vone hang-slot—dat
is vone bad-locksh—mien Got bresarve mien zeil,” proceeded
he, lifting up both hands in amazement, at the
audacity of supposing him ignorant of the way, “wie
has zeen der liksh dat dis is zince mien moeder game
vrom Vlairdengen—mien goot Got—ja—”
His assurances now, however, in spite of all his protestations,
were fast beginning to lose effect, and notwithstanding
his natural immovable and imperturbable
coolness of countenance and action, which had heretofore
been greatly aided by sundry strong and sly potations
from the stone pottle which depended from his belt,
and whose secret assistance as yet had rendered him almost
senseless to the attacks of the frost—he nevertheless
was evidently become disconcerted by the aspect of
the country, yet upheld by a constitutional obstinacy
shame of being convinced of acting wrong, he still persisted
in leading onward, without, as it soon was apparent,
the least certainty, or even idea, of the probable
correctness of the bearing of the direction he was pursuing,—nor
did he yield in his pertinacity, until assailed
by fears for his own personal safety—and truly this was
to him a most important point—one that he was greatly
careful on, and exceedingly easy to be moved; for like
many others, he was the more anxious about his life and
limb, as they were most worthless; and truly it is from
such preserving and cautious feelings, that so many
knaves deface the fair visage of the earth so much longer
than retribution for their crimes and villanies ought
rightly to allow. To these movements, in the breast of
Sporus, was now adjoined a secret idea, which was sternly
embodied on his mind, and which for some time had
been growing even from a small and latent thought, unto
a violent and frame pervading action,—the Dutchman
had, between sleeping and wakening, as he was wont to
sit beside his fire at home, unconsciously imbibed from
Yonne's relations, a certain strong belief in the existence
and earth visitations of supernatural beings; and
often with eager ear, he had drank in the soul disturbing
descriptions of the black. The sad evidences of
Indian murders, and the damnable effects of the powow
service to the devil by these heathens in their dwellings
of Satan, were at this period, a like terror to the whole
colony—so that by law, the performances of such mysteries
were punishable with death: and terrific visions
were presented, by the force and circumstance of his situation,
to the sensible and susceptible nerves of the Nieuw
Nederlander, however dull of apprehension on matters not
so immediately personal, and his spirit was wonderfully
wrought on, considering that every story he had heard,
was strongly attested; some of the narrators having
gone so far as to say, that if necessary, they would not
mind swearing to what they had beheld on the brass
clasps of Dominie Van Gieson's great parchment covered
Bible,—a folio, whose size and sacredness, was believed
and distinct dress of the relations, the vividness of
the Hollander's recollection, seemed to perfect itself
nearly in a moment, as he looked about him midst the
darkness of the forest; the groan of the tall pine tree,
disturbed by the blast, as it rushed with the wing of an
eagle o'er its towering crest, the sudden and startling
yell of the ounce, as it roamed abroad in the jungles of
the mountain, were conjured up, and dressed out in the
livery of dire and nameless phantasies of the `woud
gest' and the koubold;—and ever and anon, under the influence
of such disturbing imaginings, with sudden jerks
of the body, Sporus would cast twitching and startled
glances about him as he stalked along, and with a quick
and nervous step, would almost spring close to the side
of his companions in trouble—who, extremely angered
at his bearing, after having wandered a long while by
this uncertain and random guidance, at last obtained, by
threats and persuasion, a sullen and dogged confession
of his dilemma, from the obstinate, and equally timid
and stupid Mienheer.
“By Saint Paul, this fellow resembles the composition
of Peter Testa, the engraver—he is all in confusion,”
said Jost Stoll, as the surly ferrymaster crabbedly
informed them of the perilous situation in which his ignorance
had betrayed them—“trow! we have a dark
back ground—all shadow—not a glimpse of light—foregad,
Domenichino never painted more dreadful figures
than we shall cut, an we are forced to linger here till
daylight.”
“It is strange you should be thus lost, after such
strong affirmances—and the road is one, that ought to be
known by all who live on the island,” said the younger
traveller, sternly gazing on the Hollander.
“Mien Got,” answered Vanderspeigl dryly, while
every feature remained unbent, or from the darkness,
the stranger was unable to perceive a change, though he
stood at his side—“mien Got,” said he, “Ik dreads der
wegh, Ik dells u, in der dagligt, zo well as oder beobles—der
mienzelf, as tish zo donker as bitch—Got tam!”
“Curse on that stupid brain of thine—what are we
to do? I'm tired—fainting—freezing,—which course
can we take?” cried the ensign rapidly—impatient, as
he felt his limbs grow weaker, from the fatigue so uselessly
endured: “it was madness—tempting the wrath
of heaven itself, to venture forth in such a night—what
difference could it have made, and—must we perish in
this desert?”
“Nay, comrade—you know not what you say—let us
keep up a good heart—things may not yet be so desperate,”
returned his companion calmly, “suppose Mienheer
tries the strength of his Dutch lungs; he has drawn
us in this danger, let him strive to rescue us.”
“Mien goot mensch,” exclaimed Sporus, somewhat
alarmed, “u mill niet hab Ik raish der woud duivel
vrom his zleeb mit der sneuw—mien Got bresarve—”
“Ay, you rascal,” shouted Jost Stoll, “any devil, to
help us free of this dismal solitude—so call away, or by
my halidome, I shall be forced to beat you, to keep the
blood warm in my viens.”
The Nederlander needed no stronger hint, as the stout
arm of solid animation, which was exhibited by the soldier,
for the time presented an argument more powerful in
Vanderspeigl's sight, than the whole world of spirits;
and long and stoutly did he call: but neither his loud
sounding halloos, nor those of his fellows in affliction,
appeared to receive any answering hail or voice; the
faint echoes of each, as they floated away in the distance,
were alone heard in the pauses of the storm; or
were returned by the hoarse scream of some frightened
cormorant, as it rose in alarm from its mountain nest;
and often, such was the din of the blast, that their
strongest efforts were dwindled to the weak cries of infants,
and carried away as though unheard, and merely
swelling the whistling of the wind: and now, as if to fill
the dreadful measure of their wretchedness, the tempest
increased in violence, raging with devastating fury;
at first, a thick shower of dense and sleety rain, came
so that it was in vain, that the eye strained to catch
the outline of some neighbouring object in the black and
dreary expanse, and though at times they fancied shapes
and forms amid the fog, the next moment, a gust of
wind would whirl away the fantastic illusion, and reduce
them to actionless despair; then would come the power
of the blast, rolling at first upon the ear like distant thunder,
and seeming to mutter appalling threats—and then
opening in its anger with a noise so deafening, that they
could not speak to each other, for their words were
lost and drowned as in the rushing of wings. The drift
around them was in continual agitation, rolling along in
mighty volumes of strange and changing forms, and so
heavy as to affect respiration: it was useless to struggle
against its careering strength, for every instant the wind
received fresh force, until the trees were almost uplifted
by the roots, and intermingled with horrible crashings,
groaning and creaking incessantly, and shattering
their boughs in a thousand pieces, as they struck against
each other: fibres of wood and torn splinters, were
caught and swept along, and clouds of snow, and of
withered leaves, showered around in every direction:—
all was frightful and distracting; one rapid and fearful
tumult, that rendered the mind confused and dizzy with
perturbation. To proceed onwards at random, was impracticable,
or only plunging deeper in the disconsolate
difficulties of the waste, in which they were already so
sadly entangled: nor were the travellers able, though
they turned back, to retrace their steps; they examined
the rocks and turnings, the trees and glens, but not one
could they recollect; the full and vivid horror of their
abandonment, alone broke upon them; and it appeared
to differ but little whether they fled away, or remained
to meet the event on the same spot; and indeed they
could not move one single step without risk, or drawing
destruction down on them; while, to complete their misfortune,
their limbs became debilitated to the weakness
of striplings, and the piercing and frosty breeze, cut
their flesh to the very bone, with the sharpness of a tempered
and seemed as if rendered moveless and stark, as touched
by the wand of the magician, death: o'erborne with
fatigue and cold, the horse of the Dutchman sank down
on the snow, and gasping, stretched out its useless limbs;
his master, cast himself in grief, upon the body. The
travellers gazed on each other—they were separated
far from the homes of men—beyond the voice of assistance—as
it were, cut off from the peopled world—despair,
in its most terrific garb, rose to their sight—they
would perish—none could tell where their corses would
be found—the wild would be their tomb—a hundred
thoughts of the past, in strange and feverish array, came
thronging and mingling in the scene in which they acted—they
were as men cast out from their fellows, and
marked for sacrifice: those dreadful feelings which press
like lead upon the bosom, and seem to bid us give o'er
exertion, since it avails not, hung heavy on their
hearts: they wildly with their hands, covered their
eyes, that they might avoid the mental distraction, occasioned
by the sight of external objects,—gradually, however,
their alarms and anxieties became less intense; a
sort of stupor, like a cloud, gathered o'er their senses,
and such was the effect of the deadly wind, which they
had so long combatted, and which now was pressing on
to conquest, that a darkness crowded on their brain—a
drowsiness weighed on their brows, that, combined with
the fatigue and excitement they had been under, seemed
to oppose all exertion: the ensign faintly drew his cloak
across his breast, and dropped down on a bank of snow,
conscious only of existence, by a feeling of vague and
insupportable hopelessness: the younger traveller sat
down beside him, first, as though stupified, and then he
took him by the hand, but the coldness shot in anguish
to his heart; he nearly fell beside his dying comrade;
the howl of a wolf aroused him—it was but few paces
off, and rang in his ear like a blow from a giant—he
sprang on his feet—he shook the nearly lifeless Jost
Stoll—he called on him, and the Dutchman, by name—
but they moved not, and he resumed his position beside
and desperation, like a man who had long been battling
for life in some frail bark, and who at last, is driven to
shipwreck on some unknown, barren and uninhabited
coast, rescued from one death, to meet another more severe;
still hope, a desire of life contended within him;
there appeared a baseness and unmanly crouching to
fate, to give up all without another effort; he strived to
awake his failing faculties, which were fast flying him
one after another, and seeking out the splinters of wood
that lay about him, he tried to kindle a fire—but in
vain—the wet had sunk to their hearts, and rendered
unavailing his utmost attempts: frustrated in this, he
hung over the shattered branches which he had collected,
like the mariner over the skeleton of his stranded
boat, when he gives up all as lost: soon his breath grew
short and thick, as its warmth commingled in the chilled
and icy atmosphere, while the very flood of living fire
that sported in his veins, appeared fast losing the genial
heat on which depended life; his ears began to ring with
stunning and unearthly sounds—distorted and terrific
shadows, in transitory and unsatisfactory bands, swam
before his dim eyes, and he would extend his arms to
catch the passing objects, as if he was grasping at a hold
on earth, which was passing away.
“It was not thus I hoped to end my days—to die not
thus—not thus,” he said in a short interval of conscious
and heart rending, bitter agony; “Oh God! doth here
all those gay prospects of my youth cease in bleak and
hopeless night! Yet what have I deserved? wild wassail,
riot, debauchery, hath filled the brief span of my
careless life. I have not acted as my sending on earth
destined—but wasted in profuseness and extravagance,
health and talents.—Out on this infant chiding—what
now avails complaint in this last hour? is it fit—is it
manly that the stern criminal at the gates of death shall
weakly cry on fate—on mercy—and deprecate the endless
wo to which the unrestrained hours he led in hardihood
hath brought him? And yet were my days spared, it
might be, for I am not old, that future times should see
help—and if—but I should die as becomes a man, not
cling thus to this foolish, deceiving hope, that makes me
sad at parting as a miser from his treasures.”
He lay down amid the withered leaves, while the
snow drifted violently about him—piling around his prostrate
body like the earth of the grave at the sides of
some uncovered corse—he grew fainter and fainter—a
dead weight like iron was on his brain—the remembrance
of even his situation was only renewed by fits and starts,
as though perception of created things was nearly lost—
but once again his faculties appeared renewed, and he
looked fearfully from side to side—he gazed upon the
arms of a mighty tree that waved in the wind above him,
and by his distorting vision seemed tottering to a fall;
he wished that the falling timber might crush and release
him from his misery—he revelled in the thought—
for it seemed as though connexion with the living was
broken, and he retained no human or earthly ties. His
senses swam—and his eyes, now weakened to exhaustion,
closed as it were from mere pain; and then there came a
voice close to his ear, as from the lips of his comrade,
yet he scarce heard it, for his limbs grew motionless—
stiff-like with the ice of death—a very slumber, tranquil
and senseless was on him, when sudden a sound, sharp
and loud, startled him, and he awoke; the noise petrified
his very frame, but although he strived at first to listen, it
was in vain; yet when again it was repeated, such was
the joy and surprise that pervaded him that he had almost
relapsed into his former helplessness, for it was the
report of a gun followed by the deep mouthed baying
of a wolf dog, that, even in its roughness, came as
sweet to his ears as music to the listening sick. In an
instant all weakness was fled, his intellectual powers returned
with increased vigour and acuteness, and appeared
to vie with each other; while, as he shouted, every
nerve trembled with agitation and fear lest the succour
should not be real, but a mere deception of the sense—
and as soon as the call was echoed by the cheerful voice
of man, the blood rushed back in a torrent to the heart,
overcome by fatigue and agitation. “Thank heaven,
we are saved, we are saved,” burst joyfully from his lips,
as he beheld his comrades revived and starting from
their couches of despair and death, as an answer was
twice repeated to his call.
At a short space of time a large dog sprang through
the thicket, and with fierce and malicious barkings darted
towards them; but his ferocity was soon soothed to silence
by the appearance of a savage looking man who
followed.
“Down, Luath, down, thou noisy hound,” said the
stranger; and the animal, passive and obedient ran fawning
about him.
A lanthorn which the man bore in one hand, by its
strong yet transient gleams discovered to the party his
singular, grim and haggard visage, overrun by a grey and
grisly beard, which appeared to have been long unshorn.
He was, as well as could be distinguished, a tall, gaunt,
bony figure; with sinews and muscle that indicated almost
gigantic strength;—a buckskin hunting shirt, dressed
with the hair outward, hung half way between the hip
and knee, and was tied round his waist with a leathern
thong; his legs were covered with stockings of blanket,
and his feet with socks of deer skin; on his head he wore
a cap made of the hide of some wild animal, but dyed of
a scarlet colour, after the manner of the Indian—and in
one hand he held a long-barrelled Spanish musquetoon;
a hatchet and knife, bared to the handle and glittering in
the red light, were stuck in the thong which bound his
garments. He greeted the benighted and perishing travellers
in a voice, the roughness of whose tone was
strongly contrasted with the kindness intended, and after
a few inquiries of their distress, which was briefly conveyed
to him, as much by their appearance as words, he
proceeded to state that if their strengths could support
it, he would conduct them where, not many paces distant,
several of his companions, hunters, who had been bewildered
also in the snow storm in the far pursuit of game,
had been enabled to build their watch-fire within the
he offered a share of the succour and scanty protection
which its walls afforded, as to fellow-sufferers by the tempest.
Mustering up cheerfully at this speedy chance of
relief their remaining spirit, they blessed him for his proffered
hospitality, and with an activity scarcely to be expected
from their worn and weakened frames, they hastily
prepared to follow the leading of the stranger.
“Mien Got! dou gant leive mien merrie behind,” cried
Vanderspeigl in a piteous tone, after having endeavoured
to arouse the quadruped which had so long served him;
“hy mill berish—mien Got!” continued he, perceiving
his attempts fruitless, for the poor beast only opened its
eyes to his well known voice, and with an expression
of indescribable anguish, licked the hand that was extended
to lift his head, and then with a deep moan closed
his sight again”—mien got—what mill the vrouw Yokupminshie
zay to dis—mien got—mien merrie—hy gost
me zo mush as durteen schilling den jaar bast—mien got—
ik sall be vervoesting, dat is a proken mensch—mien got
—and dere doo is mien hundred bieces—got tam! Ik sall
loosh mores dat mien zeil ish gost, mien merrie, mien
byp, mien hondred—got tam!”—and he wrung his hands
in despair and dolor. The promise from the travellers
of a future equivalent for his loss—scarce comforted him
—and it was to the repeated commands and urgings of
his companions that at last he tore himself away from the
now stark corpse of his once faithful and patient servant.
Den guilder mill nien puy hish weergade op mien
ziel”—groaned the afflicted Hollander as with a slow step
he lingered to gaze back to the spot where lay the body
—“ja—hy gost mores as dat dirteen schilling—ik pought
der peast vrom Mienheer Van Ranst dat geebs gattle vor
zale by der varm von oud Jacobus Beekman—ja—hy vash
vone weineg golt dat u sall zee den jaar bast—mien got
—mien boor merrie—mien got—ik sall nien vind dien
like—hy hieft zyns gelyk niet—mien got!—
The rage of the whirlwind appeared now to have somewhat
passed—and the heavens were covered with troops
of flying clouds and wrack like bands hovering on the
was so far dissipated that the path could be perceived,
and became easy from the rays of the lanthorn to thride,
and indistinct forms of rock and tree were visible before
the party as they moved along amid the maze of the forest.
After having pursued an irregular and winding route
down a narrow and abrupt descent seemingly full of fallen
branches, and stumps of destroyed wood, whose oft projecting
roots and boughs either rudely overhung or entirely
blocked for awhile the way, which the leader was
obliged to force for them, they arrived on the brink of a
deep and darksome glen, when turning a clump of alder
bushes to avoid what appeared from the sound the rush
of a powerful fall of waters, but whose flood they could
not distinguish in the gloom, (though ever and anon the
stray blaze from the light, which was held aloft to guide
them, would fall and sparkle upon the jagged fragments
of ice that had been driven aside by the force of the
stream in its progress, and had got wedged and thrown
on the distant crags—where as the lanthorn went by they
glowed to living chrystal amid the mist—and changing
often with magical swiftness they increased their brilliance
to that of diamonds such as hang on a moorish vest,)
the travellers perceived immediately before them a dusky
line of building wildly situated among the surrounding
cliffs, and on the brow of one it was perched—a black and
shapeless mass. A few moments, during which the voice
of the stranger often bade them tread carefully, brought
them before it and allowed them a nearer survey—it was
a hovel roughly thrown up and built in the rugged fashion
of the backwoodsmen of the period, though mixed as appeared
from their casual observation with the form and materials
of the wigwam of the untutored savage. The walls
as far as they could judge in the darkness, were composed
of loose round stone and the trunks of trees, which
were carelessly heaped and cemented together by clay
or mud, the interstices often filled with dried leaves
alone—in many places, crotched stakes thrust in the
ground, gave support to the miserable edifice, which
was roofed over with the bark and branches of untrimmed
with the long, withered and narrow leaves, and even
berries, still hanging to them: this thatch, however, was
rent and shattered, and large and ragged apertures, were
distinctly perceptible; for though the uncomfortable
looking habitation was of considerable extent, the eaves
and rafters were so low, as to almost touch the ground.
The blackened pile also, in several parts, showed plainly
the hand of time and desertion, for large pieces of stone
had crumbled away, and driven by frequent storms,
strewed the earth about with their splintered and broken
fragments, affording vacancies in the places they had
filled, fit for the ringed and rattled serpent to coil in,
and guard its young and poisonous brood: every part of
this savage dwelling, appeared wild and ruinous, more
like the haunt of the beast of the wilderness, than the
residence of man. As the party approached the hovel,
they passed several square mounds of earth, built carefully,
and overhung with thick mats wrought from rushes,
and strongly fenced with a hedge, which protected
them from obtruding feet—they were Indian graves—
such as the wild follower of the chace hath, in after
years sought out, even in the land of their enemy and
persecutor, by a weary pilgrimage, whose only land
marks, were traditions handed from sire to son; and at
whose verdant bases, they've worshipped the last of
their oppressed race, lonely and solitary, while their
hearts ran o'er in veneration, till they deemed the very
spirits of the old to have awakened to their call, and to
have smiled upon their holy devotions. The travellers
now became sensible of the smell of smoke, which escaped
from the dwelling by means of the numerous holes in
the rafters above mentioned, and which was blown
against them as they advanced, by the gusty wings of
the wind—and also from the interior of the hut, they
could hear the confused voices of men, intermingled
with the deep and hoarse growlings of dogs; and no
sooner was the latter grateful sound distinguished by the
animal that accompanied their conductor, than he
bounded backwards and forwards joyously, as the party
cheerful responses to the barkings of his housed companions:
the guide, with rapid strides, having led them
through a small enclosure, advanced to the door, which
was an uncouth and shapeless opening, but little more
than a yard high—and bidding them freely follow him,
he bent his tall form, and raising the deer skin mat that
secured it, he entered the forlorn mansion—and as to
what adventures ensued therein, they are amply narrated
in the succeeding section, which is devoted to the
purpose.
| The buccaneers | |