University of Virginia Library

10. CHAPTER X.

The ceremony of the introductions was not half through,
when there was a noisy summons to the pike-poles. This
called away the crowd in a body; a raising in the country
being an incident of too much interest to be overlooked. I
profited by the occasion to issue a few orders that related to
my own comfort, when I went, myself, to the scene of present
toil and future Congregationalism.

Everybody in America, a few inveterate cockneys excepted,

have seen a “raising.” Most people have seen
hundreds; and, as for myself, I believe I should be safe in
saying I had, even at that day, seen a thousand. In this
particular instance, there were great felicitations among the
yeomen, because the frame “had come together well.” I
was congratulated on this score, the hearty old Rhode
Islander, my brother major, assuring me that “he couldn't
get the blade of his knife, and it 's no great matter of a knife
either, into a single j'int. And, what is more, 'squire”—
As the sturdy yeoman was a major himself, though only in
the militia, that title would not have been honourable enough
for his landlord—“And, what is more, 'squire, they tell me
not a piece was ever tried, until we put the bents together,
this a'ternoon, ourselves! Now, down country, I never
see'd sich a thing; but, up here, the carpenters go by what
they call the “square-rule;” and quick work they make
on 't!” This speech contained the substance of one of the
contrivances by which the “new countries” were endeavouring
to catch up with the “old,” as I learned on farther
inquiries.

It may be well to describe the appearance of the place,
when I reached the site of the new “meetin'-us.” The great
body of the “people” had just taken their stands at the first
bent, ready for a lift, while trusty men stood at the feet of
the posts, armed with crow-bars, broad-axes, or such other
suitable implements as offered, in readiness to keep those
essential uprights in their places; for, on the steadiness of
these persons, depended the limbs and lives of those who
raised the bent. As this structure was larger than common,
the danger was increased, and the necessity of having men
that could be relied on was obviously so much the greater.
Of one post, in particular, for some reason that I do not
know, all the trusty men seemed shy; each declaring that
he thought some one else better suited to take charge of it,
than he was himself. The “boss”—that Manhattanese word
having travelled up to Ravensnest—called out for some one
to take the delicate station, as nothing detained the work
but the want of a hand there; and one looked at another,
to see who would step forward, when a sudden cry arose
of “the Chainbearer! — the Chainbearer! — Here 's your
man!”

Sure enough, there came old Andries Coejemans, hale,
upright, vigorous, and firm-treading, though he had actually
seen his three-score years and ten. My ancient comrade
had thrown aside nearly every trace of his late military
profession, though the marchings and drillings of eight
years were not to be worked out of a man's air and manner
in a twelvemonth. The only sign of the soldier, other than
in his bearing, I could trace about my brother captain, was
the manner in which his queue was clubbed. Andries wore
his own hair; this his early pursuits in the forest rendered
necessary; but it had long been clubbed in a sort of military
fashion, and to that fashion he now adhered. In other respects,
he had transformed himself entirely into a woodsman.
He wore a hunting-shirt, like myself; leggings,
moccasins, and a cap of skins that had been deprived of
their furs. So far from lessening, in any degree, the fine
effect of his green old age, however, this attire served to
increase it. Andries Coejemans stood six feet, at seventy;
was still as erect as he had been at twenty; and so far from
betraying the inroads of age on his frame, the last appeared
to be indurated and developed by what it had borne. His
head was as white as snow, while his face had the ruddy,
weather-beaten colour of health and exposure. The face
had always been handsome, having a very unusual expression
of candour and benevolence impressed on features that
were bold and manly.

The Chainbearer could not have seen me, until he stepped
upon the frame. Then, indeed, there was no mistaking the
expression of his countenance, which denoted pleasure and
friendly interest. Striding over the timber, with the step of
a man long accustomed to tread among dangers of all sorts,
he grasped my hand, and gave it such a squeeze as denoted
the good condition of his own muscles and sinews. I saw
a tear twinkling in his eye; for had I been his own son, I
do not think that he could have loved me more.

“Mortaunt, my poy, you 're heartily welcome,” said my
old comrade. “You haf come upon t'ese people, I fancy,
as t'e cat steals upon t'e mice; but I had titings of your
march, and have peen a few miles town t'e roat to meet
you. How, or where you got past me, is more t'an I know;
for I haf seen nuttin' of you or of your wagon.”

“Yet here we both are, my excellent old friend, and most
happy am I to meet you again. If you will go with me to
the tavern, we can talk more at our ease.”

“Enough, enough, for t'e present, young comrate. Pusiness
is stanting still a little, for t'e want of my hant; step
off the frame, lat, and let us get up t'ese pents, when I am
your man for a week or a year.”

Exchanging looks, and renewing the warm and friendly
pressure of the hand, we parted for the moment; I quitting
the frame, while the Chainbearer went at once to the foot
of the important post, or to that station no one else would
assume. Then commenced, without further delay, the serious
toil of raising a bent. This work is seldom entirely
free from hazard; and, on this particular occasion, when
the force in men was a little disproportioned to the weight
of the timber, it was doubly incumbent on every man to be
true and steady. My attention was at once attracted to the
business in hand; and, for several minutes, I thought of
little else. The females had drawn as near the spot where
their husbands, brothers and lovers were exerting every
muscle and nerve, as comported with prudence; and a profound
and anxious quiet pervaded the whole of a crowd that
was gay with rustic finery, if not very remarkable for taste
or refinement. Still, that cluster of females had little in it
that was coarse or even unfeminine, if it had not much that
would be so apt to meet the eye, in the way of the attractive,
in a similar crowd of the present day. The improvement in
the appearance and dress of the wives and daughters of
husbandmen, has been very marked among us within the
last five-and-twenty years. Fully one-half of those collected
on this occasion were in short-gowns, as they were called,
a garb that has almost entirely disappeared; and the pillions
that were to be seen on the bodies of nearly all the horses
that were fastened to the adjacent fences, showed the manner
in which they had reached the ground. The calicoes
of that day were both dear and homely; and it required
money to enable a woman to appear in a dress that would
be thought attractive to the least practised eye. Nevertheless,
there were many pretty girls in that row of anxious
faces, with black eyes and blue, light, black and brown

hair, and of the various forms and hues in which female
beauty appears in the youthful.

I flatter myself that I was as comely as the generality of
young men of my age and class, and that, on ordinary occasions,
I could not have shown myself before that cluster
of girls, without drawing to myself some of their glances.
Such was not the case, however, when I left the frame,
which now attracted all eyes. On that, and on those
who surrounded it, every eye and every anxious face was
turned, my own included. It was a moment of deep interest
to all; and most so to those who could only feel,
and not act.

At the word, the men made a simultaneous effort; and
they raised the upper part of the bent from the timber on
which it lay. It was easy to see that the labourers, stout
and willing as they were, had as much as they could lift.
Boys stood ready, however, with short pieces of scantling
to place upright beneath the bent; and the men had time to
breathe. I felt a little ashamed of having nothing to do at
such a moment; but, fearful of doing harm instead of good,
I kept aloof, and remained a mere spectator.

“Now, men,” said the `boss,' who had taken his stand
where he could overlook the work, “we will make ready
for another lift. All at once, makes light work — are you
ready?—He-e-a-ve.”

Heave, or lift, the stout fellows did; and with so much
intelligence and readiness, that the massive timber was carried
up as high as their heads. There it stopped, supported
as before, by short pieces of scantling.

The pike-poles next came in play. This is always the
heaviest moment of a lift of that sort, and the men made
their dispositions accordingly. Short poles were first got
under the bent, by thrusting the unarmed ends into the
cavity of the foundation; and a few of the stoutest of the
men stood on blocks, prepared to apply their strength
directly.

“Are you ready, men?” called out the boss. “This is
our heaviest bent, and we come to it fresh. Look out well
to the foot of each post — Chainbearer, I count on you —
your post is the king-post of the whole frame; if that goes,

all goes. Make ready, men; heave altogether — that 's a
lift! Heave again, men — he-e-a-ve — altogether now —
he-e-a-ve! — Up she goes; he-e-a-ve — more pike-poles —
stand to the frame, boys—get along some studs — he-e-a-ve
— in with your props — so, catch a little breath, men.”

It was time to take breath, of a certainty; for the effort
had been tremendously severe. The bent had risen, however,
and now stood, supported as before by props, at an
angle of some fifteen degrees with the plane of the building,
which carried all but the posts beyond the reach of hands.
The pike-pole was to do the rest; and the next ten degrees
to be overcome would probably cause the greatest expenditure
of force. As yet, all had gone well, the only drawback
being the certainty which had been obtained, that the
strength present was hardly sufficient to get up so heavy a
bent. Nevertheless, there was no remedy, every person on
the ground who could be of use, but myself, having his station.
A well-looking, semi-genteel young man, whose dress
was two-thirds forest and one-third town, had come from
behind the row of females, stepped upon the frame, and
taken his post at a pike-pole. The uninitiated reader will
understand that those who raise a building necessarily stand
directly under the timber they are lifting; and, that a downfall
would bring them beneath a fearful trap. Bents do
sometimes come down on the labourers; and the result is
almost certain destruction to those who are caught beneath
the timber. Notwithstanding the danger and the difficulty in
the present case, good-humour prevailed, and a few jokes
were let off at the expense of the Congregationalists and
the late moderator.

“Agree, 'squire,” called out the hearty old Rhode Islander,
“to let in some of the other denominations occasionally, and
see how the bent will go up. Presbytery is holding back
desperately!”

“I hope no one supposes,” answered Mr. Moderator,
“that religious liberty doosn't exist in this settlement.
Sartainly—sartainly—other denominations can always use
this house, when it isn't wanted by the right owners.”

Those words “right owners” were unfortunate; the
stronger the right, the less the losing party liking to hear
of it. Notwithstanding, there was no disposition to skulk,

or to abandon the work; and two or three of the dissentients
took their revenge on the spot, by hits at the moderator.
Fearful that there might be too much talk, the boss now
renewed his call, for attention to the work.

“Let us all go together, men,” he added. “We 've got
to the pinch, and must stand to the work like well-broke
cattle. If every man at the frame will do his best for just
one minute, the hardest will be over. You see that upright
stud there, with that boy, Tim Trimmer at it; just raise
the bent so that Timmy can get the eend of that stud under
it, and all will be safe. Look to the lower eend of the stud,
Tim; is it firm and well stopped?”

Tim declared it was; but two or three of the men went
and examined it, and after making a few alterations, they
too assured the boss it could not get away. A short speech
was then made, in which everybody was exhorted to do his
best; and everybody, in particular, was reminded of the
necessity of standing to his work. After that speech, the
men raised the pike-poles, and placed themselves at their
stations. Silent expectation succeeded.

As yet, not a sign, look, or word, had intimated either
wish or expectation that I was to place myself in the ranks.
I will confess to an impulse to that effect; for who can look
on, and see their fellow-creatures straining every muscle,
and not submit to human sympathy? But, the recollections
of military rank, and private position, had not only their
claims, but their feelings. I did go a step or two nearer to
the frame, but I did not put my foot on it.

“Get ready, men” — called the boss, “for a last time.
Altogether, at the word — now 's your time — he-e-a-ve —
he-e-e-a-ve — he-e-e-e-ave!”

The poor fellows did heave, and it was only too evident
that they were staggering under the enormous pressure of
the massive timber. I stepped on the frame, at the very
centre, or at the most dangerous spot, and applied all my
strength to a pike-pole.

“Hurrah!” shouted the boss — “there comes the young
landlord! — he-e-ave, every man his best! — he-e-e-e-ave!”

We did heave our best, and we raised the bent several
feet above its former props, but not near enough to reach
the new ones, by an inch or two. Twenty voices now called

on every man to stand to his work; for everybody felt the
importance of even a boy's strength. The boss rushed
forward like a man to our aid; and then Tim, fancying his
stud would stand without his support, left it and flew to a
pike-pole. At this mistake the stud fell a little on one side,
where it could be of no use. My face was so placed that I
saw this dangerous circumstance; and I felt that the weight
I upheld, individually, grew more like lead at each instant.
I knew by this that our force was tottering under the downward
pressure of the enormous bent.

“He-e-e-ave, men — for your lives, he-eave!” exclaimed
the boss, like one in the agony.

The tones of his voice sounded to me like those of despair.
Had a single boy deserted us then, and we had
twenty of them on the frame, the whole mass of timber must
have come down upon us. Talk of charging into a battery!
What is there in that to try men's nerves, like the situation
in which we were placed? The yielding of a muscle, in all
that straining, lifting body, might have ruined us. A most
fearful, frightful twenty seconds followed; and just as I had
abandoned hope, a young female darted out of the anxious,
pale-faced crowd, that was looking on in a terror and agony
that may be better conceived that described, and seizing the
stud, she placed it alongside of the post. But an inch was
wanted to gain its support; but how to obtain that inch! I
now raised my voice, and called on the fainting men to
heave. They obeyed; and I saw that spirited, true-eyed,
firm-handed girl place the prop precisely where it was wanted.
All at that end of the bent felt the relief instantly, and
man after man cautiously withdrew from under the frame,
until none remained but those who upheld the other side.
We flew to the relief of these, and soon had a number of
props in their places, when all drew back, and looked on
the danger from which they had escaped, breathless and
silent. For myself, I felt a deep sense of gratitude to God
for the escape.

This occurrence made a profound impression. Everybody
was sensible of the risk that had been run, and of the
ruin that might have befallen the settlement. I had caught
a glimpse of the rare creature, whose decision, intelligence
and presence of mind had done so much for us all; and to

me she seemed to be the loveliest being of her sex my eyes
had ever lighted on! Her form, in particular, was perfection;
being the just medium between feminine delicacy and
rude health; or just so much of the last as could exist without
a shade of coarseness; and the little I saw of a countenance
that was nearly concealed by a maze of curls that
might well be termed golden, appeared to me to correspond
admirably with that form. Nor was there anything masculine
or unseemly in the deed she had performed, to subtract
in any manner from the feminine character of her appearance.
It was decided, useful, and in one sense benevolent;
but a boy might have executed it, so far as physical force
was concerned. The act required coolness, intelligence and
courage, rather than any masculine power of body.

It is possible that, aware as I was of the jeopardy in which
we were all placed, my imagination may have heightened
the effect of the fair apparition that had come to save us, as
it might be, like a messenger from above. But, even there,
where I stood panting from the effect of exertions that I
have never equalled in my own case most certainly, exhausted,
nearly breathless, and almost unable to stand, my
mind's-eye saw nothing but the flexible form, the elastic,
ready step, the golden tresses, the cheek suffused by excitement,
the charming lips compressed with resolution, and
the whole air, attitude and action, characterized, as was
each and all, by the devotion, readiness and loveliness of
her sex. When my pulses beat more regularly, and my
heart ceased to throb, I looked around in quest of that
strange vision, but saw no one who could, in the least, claim
to be connected with it. The females had huddled together,
like a covey that was frightened, and were exclaiming, holding
up their hands, and indulging in the signs of alarm that
are customary with their sex and class. The “vision” was
certainly not in that group, but had vanished, as suddenly
as it had appeared.

At this juncture, the Chainbearer came forward, and took
the command. I could see he was agitated—affected might
be a better word — but he was, nevertheless, steady and
authoritative. He was obeyed, too, in a manner I was delighted
to see. The orders of the “boss” had produced no
such impressions as those which old Andries now issued;

and I really felt an impulse to obey them myself, as I would
have done eighteen months before, when he stood on the
right of our regiment, as its oldest captain.

The carpenter yielded his command to the Chainbearer
without a murmur. Even 'squire Newcome evidently felt
that Andries was one who, in a certain way, could influence
the minds of the settlers more than he could do it himself.
In short, everybody listened, everybody seemed pleased, and
everybody obeyed. Nor did my old friend resort to any of
the coaxing that is so common in America, when men are
to be controlled in the country. In the towns, and wherever
men are to be commanded in bodies, authority is as well
understood as it is in any other quarter of the world; but,
in the interior, and especially among the people of New
England habits, very few men carry sufficient command
with them to say “John do this,” or “John do that;” but
it is “Johnny why won't you do this?” or “Johnny don't
you think you'd better do that?” The Chainbearer had
none of this mystified nonsense about him. He called things
by their right names; and when he wanted a spade, he did
not ask for a hoe. As a consequence, he was obeyed, command
being just as indispensable to men, on a thousand occasions,
as any other quality.

Everything was soon ready again, with the men stationed
a little differently from what they had previously been. This
change was the Chainbearer's, who understood mechanics
practically; better, perhaps, than if he had been a first-rate
mathematician. The word was given to heave, all of us
being at the pike-poles; when up went the bent, as if borne
upon by a force that was irresistible. Such was the effect
of old Andries' habits of command, which not only caused
every man to lift with all his might, but the whole to lift
together. A bent that is perpendicular is easily secured;
and then it was announced that the heaviest of the work
was over. The other bents were much lighter; and one up,
there were means of aiding in raising the rest, that were at
first wanting.

“The Congregationals has got the best on't,” cried out
the old Rhode Islander, laughing, as soon as the bent was
stay-lathed, “by the help of the Chainbearer and somebody
else I wunt name! Well, our turn will come, some day;

for Ravensnest is a place in which the people wont be satisfied
with one religion. A country is badly on't, that has
but one religion in't; priests getting lazy, and professors
dull!”

“You may be sure of t'at,” answered the Chainbearer,
who was evidently making preparations to quit the frame.
“Ravensnest will get as many religions, in time, as t'ere
are discontented spirits in it; and t'ey will need many
raisings, and more priests.”

“Do you intend to leave us, Chainbearer? There 's more
posts to hold, and more bents to lift?”

“The worst is over, and you 've force enough wit'out
me, for what remains to be tone. I haf t'e lantlort to
take care of. Go to your work, men; and, if you can, rememper
you haf a peing to worship in t'is house, t'at is
neit'er Congregational, nor Presbyterian, nor anything else
of the nature of your disputes and self-conceit. 'Squire
Newcome wilt gif you a leat in t'e way of l'arning, and
t'e carpenter can act boss well enough for t'e rest of t'e
tay.”

I was surprised at the coolness with which my old friend
delivered himself of sentiments that were not very likely to
find favour in such a company, and the deference that he
received, while thus ungraciously employed. But, I afterwards
ascertained Andries commanded respect by means
of his known integrity; and his opinions carried weight
because he was a man who usually said “come boys,” and
not one who issued his orders in the words “go boys.”
This had been his character in the army, where, in his own
little circle, he was known as one ever ready to lead in
person. Then Andries was a man of sterling truth; and
such a man, when he has the moral courage to act up to
his native impulses, mingled with discretion enough to keep
him within the boundaries of common prudence, insensibly
acquires great influence over those with whom he is brought
in contact. Men never fail to respect such qualities, however
little they put them in practice in their own cases.

“Come, Morty, my poy,” said the Chainbearer, as soon
as we were clear of the crowd, “I will pe your guite, ant
take you to a roof unter which you will pe master.”

“You surely do not mean the 'Nest?”

“T'at, and no ot'er. T'e olt place looks, like us olt
soltiers, a little rusty, and t'e worse for sarvice; put it is
comfortaple, and I haf had it put in order for you, poy.
Your grandfat'er's furniture is still t'ere; and Frank Malpone,
Dus and I, haf mate it heat-quarters, since we haf
peen in t'is part of t'e country. You know I haf your
orters for t'at.”

“Certainly, and to use anything else that is mine. But
I had supposed you fairly hutted in the woods of Mooseridge!”

“T'at hast peen tone, too; sometimes we are at one place,
and sometimes at anot'er. My niggers are at t'e hut; put
Frank, and Dus and I haf come ofer to welcome you to
t'e country.”

“I have a wagoner here, and my own black — let me step
to the inn, and order them to get ready for us.”

“Mortaunt, you and I haf peen uset to our feet. The
soltier marches, and countermarches, wit' no wagon to carry
him; he leafs t'em to t'e paggage, and t'e paggage-guart.”

“Come on, old Andries; I will be your comrade, on foot
or on horseback. It can only be some three or four miles,
and Jaap can follow with the trunks at his leisure.”

A word spoken to the negro was all that was necessary;
though the meeting between him and the Chainbearer was
that of old friends. Jaap had gone through the whole war
with the regiment, sometimes acting as my father's servant,
sometimes carrying a musket, sometimes driving a team;
and, at the close of his career, as my particular attendant.
He consequently regarded himself as a sort of soldier, and
a very good one had he proved himself to be, on a great
many occasions.

“One word before we start, Chainbearer,” I said, as old
Andries and Jaap concluded their greetings; “I fell in with
the Indian you used to call Sureflint, in the woods, and I
wish to take him with us.”

“He hast gone aheat, to let your visit pe known,” answered
my friend. “I saw him going up t'e roat, at a
quick trot, half an hour since. He is at t'e 'Nest py t'is
time.”

No more remained to be said or done, and we went our
way, leaving the people busily engaged in getting up the

remainder of the frame. I had occasion to observe that my
arrival produced much less sensation in the settlement than
it might have done, had not the “meeting-house” been my
competitor in attracting attention. One was just as much of
a novelty as the other; just as much of a stranger. Although
born in a Christian land, and educated in Christian dogmas,
very few of those who dwelt on the estate of Ravensnest,
and who were under the age of five-and-twenty, had ever
seen an edifice that was constructed for the purposes of
Christian worship at all. Such structures were rare indeed,
in the year 1784, and in the interior of New York. Albany
had but two, I believe; the capital may have had a dozen;
and most of the larger villages possessed at least one; but,
with the exception of the old counties, and here and there
one on the Mohawk, the new State could not boast of many
of “those silent fingers pointing to the sky,” rising among
its trees, so many monitors of a future world, and of the
great end of life. As a matter of course, all those who had
never seen a church, felt the liveliest desire to judge of the
form and proportions of this; and as the Chainbearer and I
passed the crowd of females, I heard several good-looking
girls expressing their impatience to see something of the
anticipated steeple, while scarce a glance was bestowed on
myself.

“Well, my old friend, here we are together again, marching
on a public highway,” I remarked, “but with no intention
of encamping in front of an enemy.”

“I hope not,” returned Andries, drily; “t'ough all is
not golt t'at glitters. We have fought a hart battle, major
Littlepage; I hope it will turn out for a goot end.”

I was a little surprised at this remark; but Andries was
never very sanguine in his anticipations of good. Like a
true Dutchman, he particularly distrusted the immigration
from the eastern States, which I had heard him often say
could bring about no happy results.

“All will come round in the end, Chainbearer,” I answered,
“and we shall get the benefits of our toil and dangers.
But, how do you come on at the Ridge, and who is
this surveyor of your's!”

“T'ings do well enough at t'e Ritge, Mortaunt; for t'ere,
t'ere is not a soul yet to make trouple. We have prought

you a map of ten t'ousant acres, lait off in hundret-acre
lots, which I will venture to say haf peen as honestly ant
carefully measuret as any ot'er ten t'ousant acres in t'e
State. We pegan next to t'is property, ant you may pegin
to lease, on your fat'er's lant, just as soon as you please.”

“And the Frank Malbone, you have written about, did
the surveying?”

“He worket up my measurements, lat, and closely tone
t'ey are, I 'll answer for it. T'is Frank Malpone is t'e
brot'er of Dus — t'at is to say, her half-brot'er; peing no
nephew of mine. Dus, you know, is only a half-niece in
bloot; but she ist a full da'ter in lofe. As for Frank, he is
a goot fellow; and, t'ough t'is is his first jop at surfeying,
he may be dependet on wit' as much confitence as any ot'er
man going.”

“No matter if a few mistakes are made, Andries; land
is not diamonds in this country; there is plenty for us all,
and a great deal to spare. It would be a different matter
if there was a scarcity; but, as it is, give good measure to
the tenant or the purchaser. A first survey can only produce
a little loss or gain; whereas, surveys between old
farms are full of trouble.”

“Ant lawsuits” — put in the Chainbearer, nodding his
head. “To tell you my mint, Mortaunt, I would rat'er take
a jop in a Dutch settlement, at half-price, t'an run a line
petween two Yankees for twice the money. Among the
Dutch, the owners light t'eir pipes, and smoke whilst you
are at work; but the Yankees are the whole time trying to
cut off a little here, and to gain a little t'ere; so t'at it is as
much as a man's conscience is wort' to carry a chain fairly
petween 'em.”

As I knew his prejudice on this subject formed the weak
point in the Chainbearer, I gave the discourse a new turn,
by leading it to political events, of which I knew him to be
fond. We walked on, conversing on various topics connected
with this theme, for near an hour, when I found myself
rather suddenly quite near to my own particular house.
Near by, the building had more of shape and substance
than it had seemed to possess when seen from the height;
and I found the orchards and meadows around it free from
stumps and other eye-sores, and in good order. Still, the

place, on its exterior, had a sort of gaol-look, there being
no windows, nor any other outlet than the door. On reaching
the latter, which was a gate, rather than an ordinary
entrance, we paused a moment to look about us. While we
stood there, gazing at the fields, a form glided through the
opening, and Sureflint stood by my side. He had hardly
got there, when there arose the strains of the same full, rich
female voice, singing Indian words to a civilized melody, as
I had heard issuing from the thicket of pines, among the
second growth of the forest. From that moment I forgot
my fields and orchards, forgot the Chainbearer and Sureflint,
and could think of nothing but of the extraordinary
circumstance of a native girl's possessing such a knowledge
of our music. The Indian himself seemed entranced; never
moving until the song or verses were ended. Old Andries
smiled, waited until the last strain was finished, pronounced
the word “Dus” with emphasis, and beckoned for me to
follow him into the building.