University of Virginia Library

6. CHAPTER VI.

It is now time to return to Conattee, and trace his progress
from the moment when, plunging into the waters, he left the side
of Selonee in pursuit of the wolf, whose dying struggles in the
stream he had beheld. We are already acquainted with his success
in extricating the animal from the water, and possessing himself
of its hide. He had not well done this when he heard a rushing
noise in the woods above him, and fancying that there was a
prospect of other game at hand, and inflated with the hope of adding
to his trophies, though without any weapon but his knife, Conattee
hastened to the spot. When he reached it, however, he
beheld nothing. A gigantic and singularly deformed pine tree,
crooked and most irregular in shape, lay prostrate along the
ground, and formed such an intricate covering above it, that Conattee
deemed it possible that some beast of prey might have
made its den among the recesses of its roots. With this thought,
he crawled under the spreading limbs, and searched all their intricacies.
Emerging from the search, which had been fruitless,
he took a seat upon the trunk of the tree, and spreading out the
wolf's hide before him, proceeded to pare away the particles of
flesh which, in the haste with which he had performed the task
of flaying him, had been suffered to adhere to the skin. But he
had scarcely commenced the operation, when two gigantic limbs
of the fallen tree upon which he sat, curled over his thighs and
bound him to the spot. Other limbs, to his great horror, while he
strove to move, clasped his arms and covered his shoulders. He
strove to cry aloud, but his jaws were grasped before he could
well open them, by other branches; and, with his eyes, which
were suffered to peer through little openings in the bark, he could
see his legs encrusted by like coverings with his other members.
Still seeing, his own person yet escaped his sight. Not a part of
it now remained visible to himself. A bed of green velvet-like
moss rested on his lap. His knees shot out a thorny excrescence;

and his hands, flattened to his thighs, were enveloped in as complete
a casing of bark as covered the remainder of the tree around
him. Even his knife and wolf skin, to his great surprise, suffered
in like manner, the bark having contracted them into one of those
huge bulging knobs that so numerously deformed the tree. With
all his thoughts and consciousness remaining, Conattee had yet
lost every faculty of action. When he tried to scream aloud,
his jaws felt the contraction of a pressure upon them, which resisted
all their efforts, while an oppressive thorn growing upon a
wild vine that hung before his face, was brought by every movement
of himself or of the tree into his very mouth. The poor
hunter immediately conceived his situation—he was in the power
of Tustenuggee, the Grey Demon of Enoree. The tree upon
which he sat was one of those magic trees which the tradition of
his people entitled the “Arm-chair of Tustenuggee.” In these
traps for the unwary the wicked demon caught his victim, and
exulted in his miseries. Here he sometimes remained until death
released him; for it was not often that the power into whose
clutches he had fallen, suffered his prey to escape through a sudden
feeling of lenity and good humour. The only hope of Conattee
was that Selonee might suspect his condition; in which
event his rescue was simple and easy enough. It was only to
hew off the limbs, or pare away the bark, and the victim was uncovered
in his primitive integrity. But how improbable that this
discovery should be made. He had no voice to declare his bondage.
He had no capacity for movement by which he might reveal
the truth to his comrade's eyes; and unless some divine instinct
should counsel his friend to an experiment which he would
scarcely think upon, of himself, the poor prisoner felt that he must
die in the miserable bondage into which he had fallen. While
these painful convictions were passing through his mind, he heard
the distant shoutings of Selonee. In a little while he beheld the
youth anxiously seeking him in every quarter, following his trail
at length to the very tree in which he was bound, crawling like
himself beneath its branches, but not sitting like himself to be
caught upon its trunk. Vainly did the poor fellow strive to utter
but a few words, however faintly, apprising the youth of his condition.
The effort died away in the most imperfect breathing,
sounding in his own ears like the faint sigh of some budding
flower. With equal ill success did he aim to struggle with his
limbs. He was too tightly grasped, in every part, to stir in the
slightest degree a single member. He saw the fond search, meanwhile,
which his comrade maintained, and his heart yearned the
more in fondness for the youth. But it was with consummate
horror that he saw him depart as night came on. Miserable, indeed,
were his feelings that night. The voice of the Grey Demon
alone kept him company, and he and his one-eyed wife made
merry with his condition, goading him the livelong night with
speeches of cruel gibe and mischievous reflection, such as the
following:

“There is no hope for you, Conattee, till some one takes your
place. Some one must sit in your lap, whom you are willing to
leave behind you, before you can get out of mine,” was the speech
of the Grey Demon, who, perched upon Conattee's shoulders, bent
his huge knotty head over him, while his red eyes looked into the
half-hidden ones of the environed hunter, and glared upon him
with the exultation of the tyrant at last secure of his prey. Night
passed away at length, and, with the dawn, how was the hopeless
heart of Conattee refreshed as he again saw Selonee appear. He
then remembered the words of Tustenuggee, which told him that
he could not escape until some one sat in his lap whom he was
willing to leave behind him. The fancy rose in his mind that
Selonee would do this; but could it be that he would consent to
leave his friend behind him. Life was sweet, and great was the
temptation. At one moment he almost wished that Selonee would
draw nigh and seat himself after his fatigue. As if the young
hunter knew his wish, he drew nigh at that instant; but the better
feelings in Conattee's heart grew strong as he approached, and,
striving to twist and writhe in his bondage, and labouring at the
same time to call out in warning to his friend, he manifested the
noble resolution not to avail himself of his friend's position to relieve
his own; and, as if the warning of Conattee had really
reached the understanding of Selonee, the youth retraced his
steps, and once more hurried away from the place of danger.
With his final departure the fond hopes of the prisoner sunk within
him; and when hour after hour had gone by without the appearance

of any of his people, and without any sort of change in his
condition, he gave himself up utterly for lost. The mocks and
jeers of the Grey Demon and his one-eyed squaw filled his ears
all night, and the morning brought him nothing but flat despair.
He resigned himself to his fate with the resolution of one who,
however unwilling he might be to perish in such a manner, had
yet faced death too frequently not to yield him a ready defiance
now.