University of Virginia Library

6. CHAPTER VI.

It is not necessary to dwell on the manner in which Herman
Mordaunt and his companions became established at
Ravensnest. Two or three days sufficed to render them as
comfortable as circumstances would permit; then Dirck
and I bethought us of proceeding in quest of the lands of
Mooseridge. Mr. Worden and Jason both declined going
any further; the mill-seat, of which the last was in quest,
being, as I now learned, on the estate of Herman Mordaunt,
and having been for some time the subject of a negotiation
between the pedagogue and its owner. As for the divine,
he declared that he saw a suitable `field' for his missionary
labour where he was; while, it was easy to see, that he
questioned if there were fields of any sort, where we were
going.

Our party, on quitting Ravensnest, consisted of Dirck and
myself, Guert, Mr. Traverse, the surveyor, three chain-bearers,
Jaap or Yaap, Guert's man, Pete, and one woodsman
or hunter. This would have given us ten vigorous
and well-armed men, for our whole force. It was thought
best, however, to add two Indians to our number, in the
double character of hunters and runners, or messengers.
One of these red-skins was called Jumper, in the language
of the settlement where we found them; and the other
Trackless; the latter sobriquet having been given him on
account of a faculty he possessed of leaving little or no trail
in his journeys and marches. This Indian was about six-and-twenty
years of age, and was called a Mohawk, living
with the people of that tribe; though, I subsequently ascertained
that he was, in fact, an Onondago[1] by birth. His

true name was Susquesus, or Crooked Turns; an appellation
that might or might not speak well of his character, as
the `turns' were regarded in a moral, or in a physical sense.

“Take that man, Mr. Littlepage, by all means,” said
Herman Mordaunt's agent, when the matter was under discussion.
“You will find him as useful, in the woods, as
your pocket-compass, besides being a reasonably good
hunter. He left here, as a runner, during the heaviest of
the snows, last winter, and a trial was made to find his trail,
within half an hour after he had quitted the clearing, but
without success. He had not gone a mile in the woods,
before all traces of him were lost, as completely as if he had
made the journey in the air.”

As Susquesus had a reputation for sobriety, as was apt
to be the case with the Onondagoes, the man was engaged,
though one Indian would have been sufficient for our purpose.
But Jumper had been previously hired; and it would
have been dangerous, under our circumstances, to offend a
red-man, by putting him aside for another, even after compensating
him fully for the disappointment. By Mr. Traverse's
advice, therefore, we took both. The Indian or
Mohawk name of Jumper, was Quissquiss, a term that, I
fancy, signified nothing very honourable or illustrious.

The girls betrayed deep interest in us, on our taking leave;
more, I thought, than either had ever before manifested.
Guert had told me, privately, of an intention, on his part, to
make another offer to Mary Wallace; and I saw the traces
of it in the tearful eyes and flushed cheeks of his mistress.
But, at such a moment, one does not stop to think much of
such things; there being tears in Anneke's eyes, as well as
in those of her friend. We had a thousand good wishes to
exchange; and we promised to keep open the communication
between the two parties, by means of our runners,
semi-weekly. The distance, which would vary from fifteen
to thirty miles, would readily admit of this, since either of
the Indians would pass over it, with the greatest ease to
himself, in a day, at that season of the year.

After all, the separation was to be short, for we had promised
to come over and dine with Herman Mordaunt on his
fiftieth birth-day, which would occur within three weeks.
This arrangement made the parting tolerable to us young
men, and our constitutional gaiety did the rest. Half an
hour after the last breakfast at Ravensnest saw us all on our
road, cheerful, if not absolutely happy. Herman Mordaunt
accompanied us three miles; which led him to the end of
his own settlements, and to the edge of the virgin forest.
There he took his leave, and we pursued our way with the
utmost diligence, for hours, with the compass for our guide,
until we reached the banks of a small river that was supposed
to lie some three or four miles from the southern
boundaries of the patent we sought. I say, `supposed to
lie,' for there existed then, and, I believe, there still exists,
much uncertainty concerning the landmarks of different
estates in the woods. On the banks of this stream, which
was deep but not broad, the surveyor called a halt, and we
made our dispositions for dinner. Men who had walked as
far and as fast as we had done, made but little ceremony;
and for twenty minutes every one was busy in appeasing
his hunger. This was no sooner accomplished, however,
than Mr. Traverse summoned the Indians to the side of the
fallen tree on which we had taken our seats, when the first
occasion occurred for putting the comparative intelligence
of the two runners to the proof. At the same time the principal
chain-bearer, a man whose life had been passed in his
present occupation, was brought into the consultation, as
follows.

“We are now on the banks of this stream, and about this
bend in it,” commenced the surveyor, pointing to the precise
curvature of the river on a map he had spread before him,
at which he supposed we were actually situated; “and the
next thing is to find that ridge on which the moose was
killed, and across which the line of the patent we seek is
known to run. This abstract of the title tells us to look for
a corner somewhere off here, about a mile or a mile and a
half from this bend in the river—a black oak, with its top
broken off by the wind, and standing in the centre of a triangle
made by three chestnuts. I think you told me, David,
that you had never borne a chain on any of these ridges?”

“No, sir, never;” answered David, the old chain-bearer
already mentioned; “my business never having brought me
out so far east.—A black oak, with corner blazes on it, and
its top broken down by the wind, and standing atween three
chestnuts, howsomedever, can be nothing so very hard to
find, for a person that's the least acquainted. These Injins
will be the likeliest bodies to know that tree, if they've any
nat'ral knowledge of the country.”

Know a tree! There we were, and had been for many
hours, in the bosom of the forest, with trees in thousands
ranged around us; trees had risen on our march, as horizon
extends beyond horizon on the ocean, and this chain-bearer
fancied it might be in the power of one who often passed
through these dark and untenanted mazes, to recognise any
single member of those countless oaks, and beeches, and
pines! Nevertheless, Mr. Traverse did not seem to regard
David's suggestion as so very extravagant, for he turned
towards the Indians and addressed himself to them.

“How's this?” he asked; “Jumper, do you know anything
of the sort of tree I have described?”

“No,” was the short, sententious answer.

“Then, I fear, there is little hope that Trackless is any
wiser, as you are Mohawk born, and he, they tell me, is at
bottom an Onondago. What say you, Trackless? can you
help us to find the tree?”

My eyes were fastened on Susquesus, as soon as the Indians
were mentioned. There he stood, straight as the
trunk of a pine, light and agile in person, with nothing but
his breech-cloth, moccasins, and a blue calico shirt belted
to his loins with a scarlet band, through which was thrust
the handle of his tomahawk, and to which were attached his
shot-pouch and horn, while his rifle rested against his body,
butt downward. Trackless was a singularly handsome
Indian, the unpleasant peculiarities of his people being but
faintly portrayed in his face and form; while their nobler
and finer qualities came out in strong relief. His nose was
almost aquiline; his eye, dark as night, was restless and
piercing; his limbs Apollo-like; and his front and bearing
had all the fearless dignity of a warrior, blended with the
grace of nature. The only obvious defects were in his walk,
which was Indian, or in-toed and bending at the knee; but,

to counterbalance these, his movements were light, springy,
and swift. I fancied him, in figure, the very beau-idéal of
a runner.

During the time the surveyor was speaking, the eye of
Susquesus was seemingly fastened on vacancy, and I would
have defied the nicest observer to detect any consciousness of
what was in hand, in the countenance of this forest stoic.
It was not his business to speak, while an older runner and
an older warrior was present—for Jumper was both—and
he waited for others, who might know more, to reveal their
knowledge ere he produced his own. Thus directly addressed,
however, all reserve vanished, and he advanced two
or three steps, cast a curious glance at the map, even put a
finger on the river, the devious course of which it followed
across the map, much as a child would trace any similar
object that attracted his attention. Susquesus knew but
little of maps, it was clear enough; but the result showed
that he knew a great deal about the woods, his native field
of action.

“Well, what do you make of my map, Trackless,” repeated
the surveyor. “Is it not drawn to suit your fancy?”

“Good”—returned the Onondago, with emphasis. “Now
show Susquesus your oak tree.”

“Here it is, Trackless. You see it is a tree drawn in
ink, with a broken top, and here are the three chestnuts, in
a sort of triangle, around it.”

The Indian examined the tree with some interest, and a
slight smile illumined his handsome, though dark countenance.
He was evidently pleased at this proof of accuracy
in the colony surveyors, and, no doubt, thought the better
of them for the fidelity of their work.

“Good,” he repeated, in his low, guttural, almost feminine
voice, so soft and mild in its tone. “Very good. The
pale-faces know everything! Now, let my brother find the
tree.”

“That is easier said than done, Susquesus,” answered
Traverse, laughing. “It is one thing to sketch a tree on a
map, and another to go to its root, as it stands in the forest,
surrounded by thousands of other trees.”

“Pale-face must first see him, or how paint him? Where
painter?”

“Ay, the surveyor saw the tree once, and marked it once,
but that is not finding it again. Can you tell me where the
oak stands? Mr. Littlepage will give the man who finds
that corner a French crown. Put me anywhere on the line
of the old survey, and I will ask favours of no one.”

“Painted tree there,” said Susquesus, pointing a little
scornfully at the map, as it seemed to me. “Pale-face can't
find him in wood. Live tree out younder; Injin know.”

Trackless pointed with great dignity towards the north-east,
standing motionless as a statue the while, as if inviting
the closest possible scrutiny into the correctness of his assertion.

“Can you lead us to the tree?” demanded Traverse,
eagerly. “Do it, and the money is yours.”

Susquesus made a significant gesture of assent; then he
set about collecting the scanty remains of his dinner, a precaution
in which we imitated him, as a supper would be
equally agreeable as the meal just taken, a few hours later.
When everything was put away, and the packs were on our
shoulders—not on those of the Indians, for they seldom condescended
to carry burthens, which was an occupation for
women — Trackless led the way, in the direction he had
already pointed out.

Well did the Onondago deserve his name, as it seemed to
me, while he threaded his way through that gloomy forest,
without path, mark or sign of any sort, that was intelligible
to others. His pace was between a walk and a gentle trot,
and it required all our muscles to keep near him. He
looked to neither the right nor the left, but appeared to pursue
his course guided by an instinct, or as the keen-scented
hound follows the viewless traces of his game. This lasted
for ten minutes, when Traverse called another halt, and we
clustered together in council.

“How much further do you think it may be to the tree,
Onondago?” demanded the surveyor, as soon as the whole
party was collected in a circle. “I have a reason for asking.”

“So many minutes,” answered the Indian, holding up
five fingers, or the four fingers and thumb of his right hand.
“Oak with broken top, and pale-face marks, there.”

The precision and confidence with which the Trackless

pointed, not a little surprised me, for I could not imagine
how any human being could pretend to be minutely certain
of such a fact, under the circumstances in which we were
placed. So it was, however; and so it proved in the end.
In the mean time, Traverse proceeded to carry out his own
plans.

“As we are so near to the tree,” he said, for the surveyor
had no doubt of the red-man's accuracy, “we must also be
near the line. The last runs north and south, on this part
of the patent, and we shall shortly cross it. Spread yourselves,
therefore, chain-bearers, and look for blazed trees;
for, put me anywhere on the boundaries, and I 'll answer
for finding any oak, beech, or maple, that is mentioned in
the corners.”

As soon as this order was received, all the surveyor's
men obeyed, opening the order of their march, and spreading
themselves in a way to extend their means of observing
materially. When all was ready, a sign was made to the
Indian to proceed. Susquesus obeyed, and we were all
soon in quick motion again.

Guert's activity enabled him to keep nearest to the Onondago,
and a shout from his clear, full throat, first announced
the complete success of the search. In a moment the rest
of us pressed forward, and were soon at the end of our journey.
There was Susquesus, quietly leaning against the
trunk of the broken oak, without the smallest expression of
triumph in either his manner or his countenance. That
which he had done, he had done naturally, and without any
apparent effort or hesitation. To him the forest had its
signs, and metes, and marks—as the inhabitant of the vast
capital has his means of threading its mazes with the readiness
of familiarity and habit. As for Traverse, he first
examined the top of the tree, where he found the indicated
fracture; then he looked round for the three chestnuts, each
of which was in its place; after which he drew near to look
into the more particular signs of his craft. There they were,
three of the inner sides of the oak being blazed, the proof it
was a corner; while that which had no scar on its surface
looked outward, or from the Patent of Mooseridge. Just
as all these agreeable facts were ascertained, shouts from
the chain-bearers south of us, announced that they had discovered

the line—men of their stamp being quite as quick-sighted,
in ascertaining their own peculiar traces, as the
native of the forest is in finding his way to any object in it
which he has once seen, and may desire to revisit. By
following the line, these men soon joined us, when they
gave us the additional information that they had also actually
found the skeleton of the moose that had given its name
to the estate.

Thus far, all was well, our success much exceeding our
hopes. The hunters were sent to look for a spring; and,
one being found at no great distance, we all repaired to the
spot, and hutted for the night. Nothing could be more
simple than our encampment; which consisted of coverings
made of the branches of trees, with leaves and skins for our
beds. Next day, however, Traverse finding the position
favourable for his work, he determined to select the spot as
head-quarters; and we all set about the erection of a log-house,
in which we might seek a shelter in the event of a
storm, and where we might deposit our implements, spare
ammunition, and such stores as we had brought with us on
our backs. As everybody worked with good-will at the
erection of this rude building, and the labourers were very
expert with the axe, we had it nearly complete by the setting
of the next day's sun. Traverse chose the place because
the water was abundant, and good, and because a
small knoll was near the spring, that was covered with
young pines that were about fourteen or fifteen inches in
diameter, while they grew to the height of near a hundred
feet, with few branches, and straight as the Onondago.
These trees were felled, cut into lengths of twenty and thirty
feet, notched at the ends, and rolled alternately on each
other, so as to enclose an area that was one-third longer
than it was wide. The notches were deep, and brought the
logs within two or three inches of each other; and the interstices
were filled with pieces of riven chestnut, a wood that
splits easily and in straight lines; which pieces were driven
hard into their beds, so as to exclude the winds and the
rains. As the weather was warm, and the building somewhat
airy at the best, we cut no windows, though we had
a narrow door in the centre of one of the longer sides. For
a roof we used the bark of the hemlock, which, at that

season, came off in large pieces, and which was laid on
sticks, raised to the desired elevation by means of a ridgepole.

All this was making no more than one of the common
log-houses of the new settlements, though in a more hurried
and a less artificial manner than was usual. We had no
chimney, for our cooking could be done in the open air;
and less attention was paid to the general finish of the work,
than might have been the case had we expected to pass the
winter there. The floor was somewhat rude, but it had the
effect of raising us from the ground, and giving us perfectly
dry lodgings; an advantage not always obtained in the
woods. It was composed of logs roughly squared on three
sides, and placed on sleepers. To my surprise, Traverse
directed a door to be made of riven logs, that were pinned
together with cross-pieces, and which was hung on the
usual wooden hinges. When I spoke of this as unnecessary
labour, occupying two men an entire day to complete, he
reminded me that we were much in advance from the settlements;
that an active war was being waged around us, and
that the agents of the French had been very busy among
our own tribes, while those in Canada often pushed their
war-parties far within our borders. He had always found
a great satisfaction, as well as security, in having a sort of
citadel to retreat to, when on these exposed surveys; and
he never neglected the necessary precaution, when he fancied
himself in the least danger.

We were quite a week in completing our house; though,
after the first day, neither the surveyor nor his chain-bearers
troubled themselves with the labour, any further than
to make an occasional suggestion. Traverse and his men
went to work in their own pursuit, running lines to divide
the patent into its great lots, each of which was made to
contain a thousand acres. It should be mentioned that all
the surveys, in that day, were made on the most liberal
scale, our forty thousand acres turning out, in the end, to
amount to quite three thousand more. So it was with the
subdivisions of the Patent, each of which was found to be
of more than the nominal dimensions. Blazed trees, and
records cut into the bark, served to indicate the lines, while
a map went on pari passu with the labour, the field-book

containing a description of each lot, in order that the proprietor
of the estate might have some notions of the nature
of its soil and surface, as well as of the quality and sizes of
the trees it bore.

The original surveyors, those on whose labours the patent
of the King was granted, had a comparatively trifling
duty to perform. So long as they gave a reasonably accurate
outline of an area that would contain forty thousand
acres of land, more or less, and did not trespass on any prior
grant, no material harm could be done, there being no
scarcity of surface in the colony; but, Mr. Traverse had to
descend to a little more particularity. It is true, he ran out
his hundreds of acres daily, duly marking his corners and
blazing his line trees, but something very like a summer's
work lay before him. This he understood, and his proceedings
were as methodical and deliberate as the nature of his
situation required.

In a very few days, things had gotten fairly in train, and
everybody was employed in some manner that was found to
be useful. The surveying party was making a very satisfactory
progress, running out their great lots between sun
and sun, while Dirck and myself made the notes concerning
their quality, under the dictation of Mr. Traverse. Guert
did little besides shoot and fish, keeping our larder well supplied
with trout, pigeons, squirrels, and such other game as
the season would allow, occasionally knocking over something
in the shape of poor venison. The hunters brought
us their share of eatables also; and we did well enough, in
this particular, more especially as trout proved to be very
abundant. Yaap, or Jaap, as I shall call him in future, and
Pete, performed domestic duty, acting as scullions and cooks,
though the first was much better fitted to perform the service
of a forester. The two Indians did little else, for the
first fortnight, but come and go between Ravensnest and
Mooseridge, carrying missives and acting as guides to the
hunters, who went through once or twice within that period,
to bring us out supplies of flour, groceries, and other similar
necessaries; no inducement being able to prevail on the
Indians to carry anything that approached a burthen, either
in weight or appearance.

The surveying party did not always return to the hut at

night, but it `'camped out,' as they called it, whenever the
work led them to a distance on the other side of the tract.
Mr. Traverse had chosen his position for head-quarters
more in reference to its proximity to the settlement at Ravensnest,
than in reference to its position on the Patent. It was
sufficiently central to the latter, as regarded a north and
south line, but was altogether on the western side of the
property. As his surveys extended east, therefore, he was
often carried too far from the building to return to it each
night, though his absences never extended beyond the evening
of the third day. In consequence of this arrangement,
his people were enabled to carry the food they required
without inconvenience, for the periods they were away,
coming back for fresh supplies as the lines brought them
west again. Sundays were strictly observed by us all, as
days of rest; a respect to the day that is not always observed
in the forest; he who is in the solitude of the woods,
like him who roams athwart the wastes of the ocean, often
forgetting that the spirit of the Creator is abroad equally on
the ocean and on the land, ready to receive that homage of
his creatures, which is a tribute due to beneficence without
bounds, a holiness that is spotless, and a truth that is inherent.

As Jumper, or the Trackless, returned from his constantly
recurring visits to our neighbours, we young men
waited with impatience for the letter that the messenger was
certain to bear. This letter was sometimes written by Herman
Mordaunt himself, but oftener by Anneke, or Mary
Wallace. It was addressed to no one by name, but uniformly
bore the superscription of `To the Hermits of Mooseridge;'
nor was there anything in the language to betray
and particular attention to either of the party. We might
have liked it better, perhaps, could we have received epistles
that were a little more pointed in this particular; but those
we actually got were much too precious to leave any serious
grounds of complaint. One from Herman Mordaunt reached
us on the evening of the second Saturday, when our whole
party was at home, and assembled at supper. It was brought
in by the Trackless, and, among other matters, contained
this paragraph:

“We learn that things hourly assume a more serious

aspect with the armies. Our troops are pushing north, in
large bodies, and the French are said to be reinforcing.
Living as we do, out of the direct line of march, and fully
thirty miles in the rear of the old battle-grounds, I should
feel no apprehension, were it not for a report I hear, that
the woods are full of Indians. I very well know that such
a report invariably accompanies the near approach of hostilities
in the frontier settlements, and is to be received with
many grains of allowance; but it seems so probable the
French should push their savages on this flank of our army,
to annoy it on the advance, that, I confess, the rumour has
some influence on my feelings. We have been fortifying
still more; and I would advise you not to neglect such a
precaution altogether. The Canadian Indians are said to be
more subtle than our own; nor is government altogether
without the apprehension that our own have been tampered
with. It was said at Albany, that much French silver had
been seen in the hands of the people of the Six Nations; and
that even French blankets, knives, and tomahawks, were
more plentiful among them than might be accounted for by
the ordinary plunder of their warfare. One of your runners,
the man who is called the Trackless, is said to live
out of his own tribe; and such Indians are always to be
suspected. Their absence is sometimes owing to reasons
that are creditable; but far oftener to those that are not.
It may be well to have an eye on the conduct of this man.
After all, we are in the hands of a beneficent and gracious
God, and we know how often his mercy has saved us, on
occasions more trying than this!”

This letter was read several times, among ourselves, including
Mr. Traverse. As the oi polloi of our party were
eating out of ear-shot, and the Indians had left us, it naturally
induced a conversation that turned on the risks we ran,
and on the probability of Susquesus's being false.

“As for the rumour that the woods are full of Indians,”
the surveyor quietly observed, “it is very much as Herman
Mordaunt says—there is never a blanket seen, but fame
magnifies it into a whole bale. There is danger to be apprehended
from savages, I will allow, but not one-half that
the settlers ordinarily imagine. As for the French, they
are likely to need all their savages at Ty; for, they tell me,

Gen. Abercrombie will go against them with three men to
their one.”

“With that superiority, at least,” I answered; “but,
after all, would not a sagacious officer be likely to annoy
his flank, in the manner here mentioned?”

“We are every mile of forty to the eastward of the line
of march; and why should parties keep so distant from their
enemies?”

“Even such a supposition would place our foes between
us and our friends; no very comfortable consideration, of
itself. But, what think you of this hint concerning the
Onondago?”

“There may be truth in that—more than in the report
that the woods are full of savages. It is usually a bad sign
when an Indian quits his tribe; and this runner of ours is
certainly an Onondago; that I know, for the fellow has
twice refused rum. Bread he will take, as often as offered;
but rum has not wet his lips, since I have seen him, offered
in fair weather or foul.”

“T'at is a bad sign”—put in Guert, a little dogmatically
for him. “T'e man t'at refuses his glass, in good company,
has commonly something wrong in his morals. I always
keep clear of such chaps.”

Poor Guert!—How true that was, and what an influence
the opinion had on his character and habits. As for the
Indian, I could not judge him so harshly. There was something
in his countenance that disposed me to put confidence
in him, at the very moment his cold, abstracted manners—
cold and abstracted even for a red-skin in pale-face company—created
doubts and distrust.

“Certainly, nothing is easier than for a man in his situation
to sell us,” I answered, after a short pause, “if he be
so disposed. But, what could the French gain by cutting
off a party as peaceably employed as this? It can be of no
moment to them, whether Mooseridge be surveyed into lots
this year, or the next.”

“Quite true; and I am of opinion that Mons. Montcalm
is very indifferent whether it be ever surveyed at all,” returned
Traverse, who was an intelligent and tolerably educated
man. “You forget, however, Mr. Littlepage, that
both parties offer such things as premiums on scalps.

A Huron may not care about our lines, corners, and marked
trees; but he does care, a great deal, whether he is to go
home with an empty string, or with half-a-dozen human
scalps at his girdle.”

I observed that Dirck thrust his fingers through his bushy
hair, and that his usually placid countenance assumed an
indignant and semi-ferocious appearance. A little amused
at this, I walked towards the log on which Susquesus was
seated, having ended his meal, in silent thought.

“What news do you bring us from the red-coats, Trackless?”
I asked, with as much of an air of indifference as I
could assume. “Are they out in sufficient numbers to eat
the French?”

“Look at leaves; count 'em;” answered the Indian.

“Yes, I know they are in force; but, what are the red-skins
about? Is the hatchet buried, among the Six Nations,
that you are satisfied with being a runner, when
scalps may be had near Ticonderoga?”

“Susquesus Onondago”—the red-man replied, laying a
strong emphasis on the name of his tribe. “No Mohawk
blood run in him. His people no dig up hatchet, this summer.”

“Why not, Trackless? You are allies of the Yengeese,
and ought to give us your aid, when it is wanted.”

“Count leaves — count Yengeese. Too much for one
army. No want Onondago.”

“That may be true, possibly, for we are certainly very
strong. But, how is it with the woods—are they altogether
clear of red-skins, in times as troublesome as these?”

Susquesus looked grave, but he made no answer. Still,
he did not endeavour to avoid the keen look I fastened on
his face, but sat composed, rigid, and gazing before him.
Knowing the uselessness of attempting to get anything out
of an Indian, when he was indisposed to be communicative,
I thought it wisest to change the discourse. This I did by
making a few general inquiries as to the state of the streams,
all of which were answered, when I walked away.