University of Virginia Library

20. EDGAR HUNTLY.
CHAPTER XIX.

I moved forward with as quick
a pace as my feeble limbs would permit.
I did not allow myself to meditate. The
great object of my wishes was a dwelling
where food and repose might be procured.
I looked earnestly forward, and
on each side, in search of some token of
human residence; but the spots of cultivation,
the well-pole, the worm-fence, and
the hay-rick, were no where to be seen. I
did not even meet with a wild hog, or a
bewildered cow. The path was narrow,
and on either side was a trackless wilderness.
On the right and left were

the waving lines of mountainous ridges
which had no peculiarity enabling me to
ascertain whether I had ever before seen
them.

At length I noticed that the tracks
of wheels had disappeared from the path
that I was treading; that it became more
narrow, and exhibited fewer marks of
being frequented. These appearances
were discouraging. I now suspected
that I had taken a wrong direction, and
instead of approaching, was receding
from the habitation of men.

It was wisest, however, to proceed.
The road could not but have some origin
as well as end. Some hours passed away
in this uncertainty. The sun rose, and
by noon-day I seemed to be farther than
ever from the end of my toils. The
path was more obscure, and the wilderness
more rugged. Thirst more incommoded

me than hunger, but relief was
seasonably afforded by the brooks that
flowed across the path.

Coming to one of these, and having
slaked my thirst, I sat down upon the
bank, to reflect on my situation. The
circuity of the path had frequently been
noticed, and I began to suspect that
though I had travelled long, I had not
moved far from the spot where I had
commenced my pilgrimage.

Turning my eyes on all sides, I
noticed a sort of pool, formed by the
rivulet, at a few paces distant from the
road. In approaching and inspecting it,
I observed the foot-steps of cattle, who
had retired by a path that seemed much
beaten; I likewise noticed a cedar bucket,
broken and old, lying on the margin.
These tokens revived my drooping spirits,
and I betook myself to this new
track. It was intricate; but, at length,

led up a steep, the summit of which was
of better soil than that of which the flats
consisted. A clover field, and several
apple-trees, sure attendents of man, were
now discovered. From this space I
entered a corn-field, and at length, to my
inexpressible joy, caught a glimpse of an
house.

This dwelling was far different from
that I had lately left. It was as small
and as low, but its walls consisted of
boards. A window of four panes admitted
the light, and a chimney of brick,
well burnt, and neatly arranged, peeped
over the roof. As I approached I heard
the voice of children, and the hum of a
spinning-wheel.

I cannot make thee conceive the
delight which was afforded me by all
these tokens. I now found myself, indeed,
among beings like myself, and from whom
hospitable entertainment might be confidently

expected. I compassed the house,
and made my appearance at the door.

A good woman, busy at her wheel,
with two children playing on the ground
before her, were the objects that now
presented themselves. The uncouthness
of my garb, my wild and weather-worn
appearance, my fusil and tom-hawk,
could not but startle them. The woman
stopt her wheel, and gazed as if a spectre
had started into view.

I was somewhat aware of these consequences,
and endeavoured to elude
them, by assuming an air of supplication
and humility. I told her that I was a
traveller, who had unfortunately lost his
way, and had rambled in this wild till
nearly famished for want. I intreated
her to give me some food; any thing
however scanty or coarse, would be acceptable.

After some pause she desired me,
though not without some marks of fear,
to walk in. She placed before me some
brown bread and milk. She eyed me
while I eagerly devoured this morsel.
It was, indeed, more delicious than any
I had ever tasted. At length she broke
silence, and expressed her astonishment
and commiseration at my seemingly forlorn
state, adding, that perhaps I was
the man whom the men were looking
after who had been there some hours
before.

My curiosity was roused by this intimation.
In answer to my interrogations,
she said, that three persons had lately
stopped, to inquire if her husband had
not met, within the last three days, a
person of whom their description seemed
pretty much to suit my person and dress.
He was tall, slender, wore nothing but

shirt and trowsers, and was wounded on
the cheek.

What, I asked, did they state the
rank or condition of the person to be?

He lived in Solebury. He was
supposed to have rambled in the mountains,
and to have lost his way, or to
have met with some mischance. It was
three days since he had disappeared, but
had been seen, by some one, the last
night, at Deb's hut.

What and where was Deb's hut?

It was a hut in the wilderness, occupied
by an old Indian woman, known
among her neighbours by the name of
Old Deb. Some people called her
Queen Mab. Her dwelling was eight
long miles from this house.

A thousand questions were precluded,
and a thousand doubts solved
by this information. Queen Mab were

sounds familiar to my ears; for they
originated with myself.

This woman originally belonged to
the tribe of Delawares or Lennilennapee.
All these districts were once comprised
within the dominions of that nation.
About thirty years ago, in consequence
of perpetual encroachments of the English
colonists, they abandoned their ancient
seats and retired to the banks of
the Wabash and Muskingum.

This emigration was concerted in a
general council of the tribe, and obtained
the concurrence of all but one female.
Her birth, talents, and age, gave her
much consideration and authority among
her countrymen; and all her zeal and
eloquence were exerted to induce them
to lay aside their scheme. In this, however,
she could not succeed. Finding
them refractory, she declared her resolution
to remain behind, and maintain possession

of the land which her countrymen
should impiously abandon.

The village inhabited by this clan
was built upon ground which now constitutes
my uncle's barn yard and orchard.
On the departure of her countrymen,
this female burnt the empty wigwams
and retired into the fastnesses of Norwalk.
She selected a spot suitable for
an Indian dwelling and a small plantation
of maize, and in which she was seldom
liable to interruption and intrusion.

Her only companions were three
dogs, of the Indian or wolf species.
These animals differed in nothing from
their kinsmen of the forest, but in
their attachment and obedience to their
mistress. She governed them with absolute
sway: they were her servants and
protectors, and attended her person or
guarded her threshold, agreeable to her
directions. She fed them with corn and

they supplied her and themselves with
meat, by hunting squirrels, racoons, and
rabbits.

To the rest of mankind they were
aliens or enemies. They never left the
desert but in company with their mistress,
and when she entered a farmhouse,
waited her return at a distance.
They would suffer none to approach
them, but attacked no one who did not
imprudently crave their acquaintance,
or who kept at a respectful distance
from their wigwam. That sacred asylum
they would not suffer to be violated, and
no stranger could enter it but at the imminent
hazard of his life, unless accompanied
and protected by their dame.

The chief employment of this woman,
when at home, besides plucking the weeds
from among her corn; bruising the grain
between two stones, and setting her

snares, for rabbits and apossums, was to
talk. Though in solitude, her tongue was
never at rest but when she was asleep; but
her conversation was merely addressed to
her dogs. Her voice was sharp and shrill,
and her gesticulations were vehement
and grotesque. An hearer would naturally
imagine that she was scolding; but,
in truth, she was merely giving them
directions. Having no other object of
contemplation or subject of discourse,
she always found, in their postures and
looks, occasion for praise, or blame, or
command. The readiness with which
they understood, and the docility with
which they obeyed her movements and
words, were truly wonderful.

If a stranger chanced to wander near
her hut, and overhear her jargon, incessant
as it was, and shrill, he might speculate
in vain on the reason of these sounds.
If he waited in expectation of hearing

some reply, he waited in vain. The
strain, always voluble and sharp, was
never intermitted for a moment, and
would continue for hours at a time.

She seldom left the hut but to visit the
neighbouring inhabitants, and demand
from them food and cloathing, or whatever
her necessities required. These
were exacted as her due: to have her
wants supplied was her prerogative, and
to withhold what she claimed was rebellion.
She conceived that by remaining
behind her countrymen she succeeded
to the government, and retained the possession
of all this region. The English
were aliens and sojourners, who occupied
the land merely by her connivance
and permission, and whom she allowed
to remain on no terms but those of supplying
her wants.

Being a woman aged and harmless,
her demands being limited to that of

which she really stood in need, and
which her own industry could not procure,
her pretensions were a subject of
mirth and good humour, and her injunctions
obeyed with seeming deference
and gravity. To me she early became
an object of curiosity and speculation.
I delighted to observe her habits and
humour her prejudices. She frequently
came to my uncle's house, and I sometimes
visited her; insensibly she seemed
to contract an affection for me, and
regarded me with more complacency
and condescension than any other received.

She always disdained to speak English,
and custom had rendered her intelligible
to most in her native language,
with regard to a few simple questions. I
had taken some pains to study her jargon,
and could make out to discourse with
her on the few ideas which she possessed.

This circumstance, likewise, wonderfully
prepossessed her in my favour.

The name by which she was formerly
known was Deb; but her pretensions
to royalty, the wildness of her
aspect and garb, her shrivelled and diminutive
form, a constitution that seemed to
defy the ravages of time and the influence
of the elements; her age, which some did
not scruple to affirm exceeded an hundred
years, her romantic solitude and
mountainous haunts suggested to my
fancy the appellation of Queen Mab.
There appeared to me some rude analogy
between this personage and her whom
the poets of old-time have delighted to
celebrate; thou perhaps wilt discover
nothing but incongruities between them,
but, be that as it may, Old Deb and
Queen Mab soon came into indiscriminate
and general use.

She dwelt in Norwalk upwards of
twenty years. She was not forgotten
by her countrymen, and generally received
from her brothers and sons an
autumnal visit; but no solicitations or
entreaties could prevail on her to return
with them. Two years ago, some suspicion
or disgust induced her to forsake
her ancient habitation, and to seek a
new one. Happily she found a more
convenient habitation twenty miles to the
westward, and in a spot abundantly
sterile and rude.

This dwelling was of logs, and had
been erected by a Scottish emigrant,
who not being rich enough to purchase
land, and entertaining a passion for solitude
and independence, cleared a field
in the unappropriated wilderness, and
subsisted on its produce. After some
time he disappeared. Various conjectures
were formed as to the cause of his

absence. None of them were satisfactory;
but that which obtained most credit
was, that he had been murdered by the
Indians, who, about the same period,
paid their annual visit to the Queen. This
conjecture acquired some force, by observing
that the old woman shortly after
took possession of his hut, his implements
of tillage, and his corn-field.

She was not molested in her new
abode, and her life passed in the same
quiet tenour as before. Her periodical
rambles, her regal claims, her guardian
wolves, and her uncouth volubility, were
equally remarkable, but her circuits were
new. Her distance made her visits to
Solebury more rare, and had prevented
me from ever extending my pedestrian
excursions to her present abode.

These recollections were now suddenly
called up by the information of
my hostess. The hut where I had

sought shelter and relief was, it seems,
the residence of Queen Mab. Some fortunate
occurrence had called her away
during my visit. Had she and her dogs
been at home, I should have been set
upon by these ferocious centinels, and,
before their dame could have interfered,
have been, together with my helpless
companion, mangled or killed. These
animals never barked, I should have
entered unaware of my danger, and my
fate could scarcely have been averted by
my fusil.

Her absence at this unseasonable
hour was mysterious. It was now the
time of year when her countrymen were
accustomed to renew their visit. Was
there a league between her and the plunderers
whom I had encountered?

But who were they by whom my
foot-steps were so industriously traced?
Those whom I had seen at Deb's hut

were strangers to me, but the wound
upon my face was known only to them.
To this circumstance was now added
my place of residence and name. I
supposed them impressed with the belief
that I was dead; but this mistake must
have speedily been rectified. Revisiting
the spot, finding me gone, and obtaining
some intelligence of my former condition,
they had instituted a search after me.

But what tidings were these? I was
supposed to have been bewildered in
the mountains, and three days were said
to have passed since my disappearance.
Twelve hours had scarcely elapsed since
I emerged from the cavern. Had two
days and an half been consumed in my
subterranean prison?

These reflections were quickly supplanted
by others. I now gained a sufficient
acquaintance with the region that
was spread around me. I was in the

midst of a vale, included between ridges
that gradually approached each other,
and when joined, were broken up into
hollows and steeps, and spreading themselves
over a circular space, assumed
the appellation of Norwalk. This vale
gradually widened as it tended to the
westward, and was, in this place ten
or twelve miles in breadth. My devious
foot-steps had brought me to the foot of
the southern barrier. The outer basis
of this was laved by the river, but, as
it tended eastward, the mountain and
river receded from each other, and one
of the cultivable districts lying between
them was Solebury, my natal township.
Hither it was now my duty to return
with the utmost expedition.

There were two ways before me.
One lay along the interior base of the
hill, over a sterile and trackless space, and
exposed to the encounter of savages,

some of whom might possibly be lurking
here. The other was the well frequented
road, on the outside and along the river,
and which was to be gained by passing
over this hill. The practicability of the
passage was to be ascertained by inquiries
made to my hostess. She pointed
out a path that led to the rocky summit
and down to the river's brink. The path
was not easy to be kept in view or to be
trodden, but it was undoubtedly to be
preferred to any other.

A route, somewhat circuitous, would
terminate in the river road. Thenceforward
the way to Solebury was level
and direct; but the whole space which I
had to traverse was not less than thirty
miles. In six hours it would be night,
and, to perform the journey in that time
would demand the agile boundings of a
leopard and the indefatigable sinews of
an elk.

My frame was in miserable plight.
My strength had been assailed by anguish,
and fear, and watchfulness; by
toil, and abstinence, and wounds. Still,
however, some remnant was left; would
it not enable me to reach my home by
night-fall? I had delighted, from my
childhood, in feats of agility and perseverance.
In roving through the maze
of thickets and precipices, I had put my
energis both moral and physical, frequently
to the test. Greater achievements
than this had been performed,
and I disdained to be out-done in perspicacity
by the lynx, in his sure-footed
instinct by the roe, or in patience under
hardship, and contention with fatigue,
by the Mohawk. I have ever aspired
to transcend the rest of animals in all that
is common to the rational and brute, as
well as in all by which they are distinguished
from each other.