University of Virginia Library

7. CHAPTER VII.
Canassa and his Daughter.

Willewa, after parting with Searlet Feather in the forest, hastened towards
the Lodge of Canassa for the purpose of seeking an interview with
her father. She soon reached the lake with the island in the centre of it,
upon which Natanis had slain the stag, and springing lightly into her canoe,
which being covered with the shining bark of the birch tree shone like silver
in the moon-beams, and shot rapidly out from the shore. Swiftly the little
shell-shaped vessel flew across the water, Wilewa plying the slender paddle,
displaying an elegance in the pliant motions of her body, as graceful as it
was unstudied.

She entered the dark canal beneath the over-arching foliage on the farther
side of the lake, and at length landed in the pool into which tumbled
the Cascade of the Glen. Neta met her as her foot touched the shore, and
gave dumb but eloquent signs of joy at seeing her return. Giving the doe
a kind word or two she passed into her lodge, and throwing over her shoulders
a rich cape of gorgeous feathers, she took the pathway up the marble
precipice along the face of which she had conducted Natanis to show him
the lodges of Canassa, in the valley upon the other side. On reaching the
summit which rose to the height of a hundred feet, forming a sort of gigantic
wall enclosing her little dell from the plain on the outside, she paused to
look down. The distance to her father's lodge was not thrice a long arrow's
flight from where she stood, and around it at various distances were gathered
the lodges of his warriors. She discovered that the valley was alive with
preparation. Fires blazed in nearly every lodge, and parties of braves were
assembled in different places, preparing for an immediate war-expedition.—
Warriors were bending their bows and fitting arrows to them, or fastening
sharp flint-heads to arrow-shafts; others were stripping the bark from strait
sapplings which they had selected form the forest, and making of them lance-poles;
others were painting their faces with war-paint, and others engaged
in mimic battle with each other, the clashing of their tomahawks and spears
mingling with the wild war-whoop filling the plain. It was evident from
all this, that Canassa had not only decided to give battle to the ascending army,
but at once throw himself across its path at the head of his warriors.

Casting her eye anxiously upon her father's lodge, which stood apart
from the rest, and conspicuous by its superior height, she saw that the council
had broken up; for she recognized, even by the moonlight which filled
brightly all the valley, his commanding person standing in front of his
lodge with two warriors whom he seemed to be conversing with. They
soon after left him and he walked slowly up and down in thought. She
was about to descend the path to go and meet him, when a youth not more
than sixteen, with a face as brown as a hazel-nut, eyes very large, black and
sparkling, and a countenance altogether handsome and pleasing, came up
the path from the valley and stood before her. His slender and elegant figure
was clad in a deerskin frock, girdled at the waist by a showy belt of
wampum, and he wore leggins dyed with scarlet and fringed both around the
bottom and along the seams. He carried in his hand a yew bow painted a
bright blue, and at his back was slung a quiver fancifully ornamented with
shells and feathers. Upon his head was fastened the beak and brown wings

of a bawk, the beak resting above his brow and the wings bound on each
side over his ears were secured behind his head, the whole forming a costume
both novel and picturesque, and in shape not unlike an ancient Carthagenian
helmet. Beneath this head-dress waved his raven black hair freely
to his shoulders.

`Neonah, what news? Thou comest hastily, cousin!'

`The Princess Willewa is wanted in the lodge of her father,' said the
young Indian with affectionate respect. `Twice I have sought thee in thy
lodge by his command, and now I was going a third time. Haste, Willewa,
for Canassa is displeased that thou wert not found.'

`Go, cousin Neonah, I follow thee! Does my father march from the valley
to-night? I see that his warriors are in arms.'

`I do not know the war-councils of the chief and his braves,' answered
the youth in a depressed tone. `I am but a child in the eyes of warriors
and thy father, my chief, regards me only as he regards the maidens of the
tribe. I did ask him to let me go to the battle, and what think you was his
reply?' asked the youth with indignant emotion.

`Nay, I know not, Neonah,' answered Willewa, smilingly, as she continued
to descend the path a little behind him, he, the while, looking back over
his shoulder and talking as he went; `I know not, unless he bade thee
wait till thou wert a man!'

`He bade me stay behind and take care of thee and thy doe Neta,' replied
Neona with a look and tone of haughty disdain.

`And what more valuable charge could my father give thee, Neonah?—
Whom dost thou love more than thy cousin Willewa, and Neta, I know
thou lovest for Willewa's sake. Thou shouldst be proud of such a charge,
methinks.'

`Nay, I love thee, cousin, and would defend thee with my life from danger.
But am I not destined to be a warrior! Have I not slain as many deer as I
have fingers, and three stags killed with my spear. Have I not battled with
a bear and laid him dead at my feet, and do not the skins of a wolf and
a panther slain by me hang up before the door of my mother's lodge?'

`Be not grieved, Neonah, at my father's words. One day thou wilt be a
warrior and a chief. Stay with me, for I assure thee I would rather depend
on thy arm in any danger than on that of Bokonoco, who calls himself
Black Thunder, notwithstanding he is one of my father's most celebrated
braves. Stay with me, for I have a service for thee to perform worthy even
the best warrior of your tribe!'

`I am content to serve thee, so thou thinkest me no craven with a girl's
heart,' answered Neonah, appeased. `Hither approaches the Chief to meet
thee!'

As he spoke he drew back to let Willewa advance to meet her father, she
having now got into the plain and near his lodge. Canassa advanced towards
her with a firm step, bearing himself like a king, as he was. There
was a native majesty in his walk, as if he felt conscious of his independance
and power. He was not tall and Herculean like the Sagamore Sabatis, but
in height a little undersized, yet with such symmetry of limb, that the dignity
and commanding carriage of his figure were not in the least diminished.
He carried his head proudly like a monarch of the new world, and moved
with a stately case that was singularly imposing.

`Daughter, I have thrice despatched a messenger for thee!' he said in a
tone of mingled reproof and affection.

`I have been upon the lake, father,' answered the maiden blushing at the
slight evasion of the whole truth.

`It is dangerous for the dove to be abroad when the hawks are on the
wing,' answered Canassa, laying his hand upon his daughter's shoulder,

and gently resting it there leaned upon it as together they slowly walked
towards his lodge.

`Willewa has no fears!'

`The Abanaquies are near and may pounce upon the bird of Canassa, if it
wander too far from its nest. Dost thou know that one of my people has
discovered on the shores of the Kennebis, not two miles hence an Abanaquies
hunting lodge.'

`Did he enter it?' she asked tremblingly.

`No. But he knew from its shape that it was erected by one of the hunters
of Natanis. I have despatched a war-party to see who it is that dare
plant his lodge so boldly within arrow-flight of our banks!'

Willewa prayed in her heart that Natanis had not lingered on his return;
and this belief gave her hope of his safety. She supressed all emotion and
said,

`Father, why should not a hunter of the Abanaquis plant his lodge on the
other side of the Kennebis? They are the hunting grounds of his people.'

`It is a defiance. They will again be hunting deer in my forests. Natanis
is bold for a young chief, and I will in the outset check his daring and
pride!'

`Hast thou ever seen Natanis, father?'

`No, save when he was a boy, when I met his father in a general council
held upon the council island, in the bay of the river, below us a day's journey.
I noted him then as an ambitious and imperious stripling, who even
had the presumption to challenge Bokonoco, my chief warrior, to a trial of
skill with his puppet bow and arrows.'

`That was the wild fancy of the boy. Natanis has the credit now of wisdom
as a chief, and bravery as a warrior.'

`So men say. But what is he to thee, maiden, that thou speakest so
warmly of him!' and the dark gaze of the chief seemed to penetrate her
soul. `Hast thou seen him?'

Willewa dropped her eyes, was silent for a moment, and then looking up
said firmly yet in a low voice:

`I have, father!'

`Where hast thou beheld the foe of Canassa?' demanded the chief, pressing
the hand he had so gently laid upon her shoulder at the first, so strongly
into the flesh that she shrunk from it with pain; `tell me, when didst thou
meet with the Abanaquis?'

`Hear me, father, in peace,' she said as he released his grasp, and placed
himself before her while she stood in an attitude at once firm and deprecating.
`Let the words of Willewa enter your ears and fall upon your heart!'

`Speak! Canassa is ready to hear!' answered the chief sternly.

Willewa rested her hand upon the side of the door-way of the lodge, before
which both were standing, the moonlight falling bright and purely upon
her gentle and beauteous countenance, in which love and apprehension
were touchingly mingled. Canassa with haughty surprise, his massive brow
thrown into dark shadow beneath his cap of war-feathers, regarded her
without removing his eyes.

`Father, Willewn speaks! Let her voice sound not to thee as an enemy's
that thou shouldst listen as if thou wert listening to a foe. Whatever I have
done, I am still Willewa.'

The darkness of displeasure passed from the brow of the chief, and he
said in a kind tone,

`Let my child speak. The daughter of Canassa can never have done any
thing unworthy!'

`Thanks, my noble father, for this confidence!'

`When sawest thou the Abanaquis, Willewa?' he said in the same parental
tone.

`It was thus, my father,' and in a voice that fell like gentle music upon
the ear of Canassa, though the words she uttered pleased him not, and filled
him with surprise, she began relating to him her first meeting with Natanis
and the wounded youth he had borne to her lodge, recounting each particular.
Canassa listened to the end without a word by which she could
discover how he was affected. When she concluded by telling him of the
departure of Natanis and Ayane in the morning, he was for a few moments
silent. He walked several times to and fro before his lodge, and then abruptly
turned and addressed her:

`Hast thou met this Abanaquis since? be true, my daughter. I have not
yet blamed thee for not telling me of the presence of my foe in thy lodge!
I have not asked thee why thou didst not give him up to me; for I know
what is due to the sacred rights of hospitality. Thou didst well in not betraying
the trust reposed in thee. Thou didst act as became a daughter of
Canassa; for know, that if thou hadst forgotten what was due to a guest,
and had betrayed him to me, I should have let him depart safely, notwithstanding
his misfortunes were caused by his invasion of my hunting grounds.
Canassa knows the difference between a foe in the battle-field and a foe in
distress. Thou didst so far well; yet, from thy manner and tone and looks,
as thou speakest of him, I had rather thou hadst not seen him, or he thee!
But thou hast not answered me?'

`I have seen him since, father,' she answered with more confidence, yet
still with trembling; for, although her father had taken a view of the first
meeting with Natanis which she had not dared even to anticipate, she still
was doubtful how he might continue to regard the matter.

`Where!' he demanded in a grave, deep voice.

She then told him truly where and when, and fully recounted to him their
interviews, saving only the last, when she had sought him at his lodge, and
saving also the tender love-passages which had characterised them all.

`Why came the Abanaquis a second and third time to visit thee!' he said
seriously.

`Willewa asked him not why he came,' she answered with modest embarrasment.

`Told he Willewa why he came?'

`No, father!'

`There was no need, methinks. If hospitallity led thee at the first to suffer
Natanis to go away in peace, what induced thee the second and subsequent
times to let him depart without informing me? Came he each time
to thy lodge in distress?'

`Each time, I recollect, he said he came for something he had forgotton
when there last.'

`No doubt he was very forgetful. Perhaps he told thee he had lost his
heart, and came to thee in distress, looking for it. Willewa, if Natanis saw
thee so often, he must have been near thee. Dost thou not know who
dwelt in that lodge upon the western bank of the Kennebis?'

`Scarlet Feather, my father,' she answered with downcast eyes.

`I did suspect as much. Willewa,' he said severely, yet with a tone of
kindness still apparent in the deep sternness of his voice, `thou hast proved
a traitor to thy father and thy tribe! I have read all thy soul as thou wert
speaking to me. Thy heart is given to the Abanaquis, and he has won thy
maiden affections. I see that thou hast in thy bosom a deep interest for
him—deeper than thy trembling lips would fain have kept from me! The
Abanaquis has also proved himself a traitor to me, as well as a foe. Like
the wolf he has stolen into my lodge and robbed me of my pet-fawn! I
know not,' he cried angrily, `I know not which has proved basest, thyself
or the Abanaquis. Nay, throw not thyself upon thy knees at my feet! Natanis
has kneeled at thine. So kneel not thou to me! Traitress! Friend

of the Abanaquis! Foe of Canassa and thy race! I forgive thee in the
name of hospitality what thou didst do in the first place; I now curse thee
in the name of thy nation what thou hast since done. The first time he was
thy guest. Thence afterwards when he came to thee he was thy father's
foe and thine! Thou shouldst have turned a deaf ear to his voice of passion,
and letting the young men of thy tribe know he was with thee, have
let them fall upon him, bound him and brought him before me. He would
not only hunt my deer for me in my forests, but he must afterwards enter
my lodges and steal away my gentle doe—the daughter of a king!'

`Father, forgive!' she faltered out clasping her hands upon her bosom.

`Nay! Hear me! Thou hast forgotten the voice of thy father, and listened
to the tones of that of the Abanaquis. Henceforth thou art a traitress
in the eyes of Canassa, not thy father, but thy Chief!'

`Father! forgive me! It is true my heart hath given itself to Natanis!
Yet he was so brave, so good, so gentle and full of tenderness! He—'

`Thou hast asked to be forgiven. Wilt thou do what I command thee to
earn my forgiveness?'

`I will obey thee, father. Command what thou wilt, if it is to bear the
heaviest task thou canst lay upon me. I am willing to be punished by thee
even as one of the humblest daughters of thy people!'

`I punish thee not as I would punish them. Hear Canassa's words. Natanis
will again visit thee; receive him and let him know nothing of what
has passed between thee and me to-night. When thou hast him in thy
lodge, administer to him a potion such as thou didst give his wounded
friend. Administer it to him subtlely, and let it he so powerful that he may
sleep deeply. When he sleeps then come to my lodge, and if I be not here,
thou wilt find five warriors whom I shall leave behind me to do thy bidding.
Guide them to the sleeping Abanaquis, that they may take him prisoner.—
Then, Willewa, shalt thou have thy father's forgiveness. If thou fail and
prove false thou shalt die the death of a traitress, were thou seven times my
daughter!'

`Father! father!'

`No more! I have urgent affairs. Thou knowest the will of Canassa!'

Thus speaking the proud Chief passed onward towards a group of warriors
whom he saw standing a short distance from him, as if awaiting the termination
of his interview with his daughter.

`Are my braves all informed of my wish to commence the war-march in
the morning?' he inquired of a chief upon whose black and savage features
every passion of his wild race was strongly impressed; a man whose costume
was a bearskin thrown about his body, and whose black hair floated
fiercely about his bull-like neck; whose only weapon was a huge knotted
pine club, and whose voice as he replied, sounded like the muttered roar of
a lion.

`They are all at work preparing for war, my chief. There are some hunting
parties yet abroad beyond the lake, but I have despatched runners to
bring them in.'

`You have done well, Bockonoco! You will hear now my plans to
thwart these pale-faces, and be faithful to the English Sachem. I shall follow
the river down myself with five hundred braves, and take a position at
the Cushnoe falls, filling the surrounding wood with my warriors. You
will follow and take a position higher up so that those batteaux which escape
me will fall in with you if they continue to ascend the river. It is my
intention to throw myself directly in their path, and dispute the passage at
the falls. At this place they will more readily fall a prey to us, as they will
be troubled in working their boats to get past the rapids. This will be the
moment of attack.'

Canassa's words were received by Boconoko with a savage roar of satisfaction,
and by the other chiefs with demonstrations of joy. Their eyes
flashed with warlike fire, and their faces lighted up with the anticipation of
the excitement of battle. Canassa after going round the war-lodges, at
length returned to his own where he had left Willewa, weeping and sorrowful.
He did not find her there now, and supposing she had sought her
own lodge, he threw himself upon his bearskin couch, and soon fell
asleep.