 | CHAPTER XII. The Shoshonee Valley |  |
12. CHAPTER XII.
They bleach beneath the wave.
They pillow on the ever heaving brine.
On a mild summer afternoon, when the mellowness
of autumn was already beginning to steal upon the
richness of the season, Elder Wood had risen from
dinner with his two adopted children. He had just
visits among his enquirers. His two wards were proposing
to accompany him. It had become a rare occurrence
for the young chief to pay them a visit.—
Frederic, for the most part shared their promenades
with Elder Wood; and Areskoui appeared to consider
his presence as adding nothing to their enjoyment,
or his own. At this time he was announced, always
a welcome visitant to Elder Wood, who grieved that
they so seldom saw him; but rather a startling one to
his wards, and apparently an unexpected one to Frederic.
After the customary civilities of their meeting,
he said, `Wakona, I ask of thee the strange, and I
fear me, the unwelcome request, that thou wouldst
this beautiful afternoon accompany me to the blue
lake. I have somewhat to say, which I may say only
alone with thee. Thou canst make this apology for
me, that I do not often urge such requests.'
There was mystery in his manner, and extreme
emotion in his countenance. A thousand sinister
forebodings connected with the terrible event, that
had already befallen her there, passed through her
thoughts. The strongest pledge of unalterable confidence
in the honor of the chief, which could be given,
she instantly gave. `I will immediately accompany
thee,' she said; and made her arrangements to
walk with him, while the other three prepared to go
forth in another direction. He walked near her in
seeming irresolute meditation upon what he had to
say. Jessy, anxious to put him at ease, made many
efforts to elicit whatever communications he might
have on his mind. They arrived at the beautiful spot,
and she seated herself as usual, unrolled her port-folio,
and took her pencil. The red people, free and independent,
suffer little from bashfulness; and for the
first time she noted him apparently under the embarrassment
of not knowing what to say, or not feeling
hesitatingly, `I imagined, I had somewhat to say to
thee, when I invited thee here. But the words have
vanished from my memory.' Marking the transient
glow occasioned by this address, so unlike his usual
strain, he said, `if I alarm thee, Wakona, thou hadst
better return.' `Not at all,' she answered. `I would
gladly hear thy words. Canst thou doubt the interest
of thy sister?' `I thought,' he replied, `there was
a fountain of words, like the flow of a stream, at my
heart. Where can all have vanished?' Observing
him to be excessively moved, marking his pale cheek,
his trembling hands, and the various symptoms of debility
and decline, an irrepressible pity, that at once
banished alarm, arose within her. `Chief,' she said,
`I now perceive, that thy countenance shows unusual
illness. Thou wilt no longer trifle with the gratitude,
pity and sympathy of thy sister, but wilt leave these
wearing wanderings with thy people, and put thyself
in earnest to medicine thyself. I have much faith in
the skill of our father, Elder Wood. If thou art not
fixed, to grant nothing to thy sister, thou must mind
me, and attend to this matter.' He reached her his
arm. `I have far more faith, Wakona, in thy medicine
skill, than in that of the father. Feel the pulse,
as the father doth.' An unwonted smile met hers, as
she took his arm, and applied her slender fingers to
the tense and bounding pulse. `Canst thou make nothing
of it?' he asked, as the smile was replaced in his
emaciated face by its customary sadness. `This is
mockery, Wakona. Thou knowest the incurable
malady, but too well. I have not invited thee here
to utter weak and unjust reproofs, because the Master
of Life has not given thee the purpose, and it may
be, not even the power, to heal the disease, that is
drinking up my spirit.'
`Areskoui,' she said, `my brother, pity impels me
thy words. Sit down beside me, for thou art
feeble; sit down, and hear the affectionate words of
thy sister, which should have been uttered long ago.'
The chief sat down, as requested, and regarded her
with forced composure. She proceeded, `chief, can
I ever forget, what thou hast been to me; in whose
presence we used to play in our happy morning days?
Can I ever forget, that my parents loved thee? Need
I be reminded of the long journeys, and the deliverances
wrought by thee? It was, because sisterly
feelings towards thee grew up with me, that I was
rendered incapable of a less pure and less enduring
love. My heart is opprest with a sense of my innumerable
obligations. Have I not pledged this sisterly
affection? If I cannot use false words, and belong to
thee, chief, in another relation, I here promise thee,
that I will never, while thou livest, belong in this relation
to another. It seems to me, this ought to content
thee, and restore to thee those sentiments, with
which we played together in our infant days. Do I
not, as a sister, suffer in thy sorrows? If thou wilt
not arise in thy strength, and shake off this oppression,
that wastes thy life, thou wilt kill thy sister, thy
parents and thyself together. Oh! chief, if my parents
were with me, I could endure every thing. Thy
sister, an orphan, with none to claim a share in her
sorrows, appeals to thee, in behalf of thy parents.'—
Tears, which could not be repressed, rushed to her
eyes, as she made this appeal.
`Pardon me,' Wakona, he said, `I perceive, that I
afflict thee, and it were well to bring to an end a conversation,
which must be fruitless to both. Hast thou
known me so long, and not yet learned, that I am capable
of efforts over myself? Yes. I have said, what
thou sayest, more than once; and I have struggled,
Wakona, to forget thee, and to think only of my parents
strive to wish away this hair, this hated tinge, and put
on the forehead and the locks of the pale face. Bitter,
hopeless, useless struggle to forget thee, has made
me what I am. The more I have resisted, the deeper
has been my suffering; and I will patiently abide
the allotment of the Master of Life. Thou hast no
parents, Wakona. Oh! that mine too were under the
green sod. It is not the least of my afflictions, that I
bring them grief and shame, and sadden the brow of
my pitying sister. A generation of braves of five
hundred moons have preceded me. I am the only
degenerate descendant in the whole line. Canst
thou imagine deeper bitterness in my case, than to
see me in the presence of my parents, my totem brother,
Pentanona, my young warriors, my nation, and
hear them murmur, `there passes the mountain eagle,
that has become a song sparrow?' I am ashamed to
feel, Wakona, that I am worthy of pity.'
A silence of embarrassment ensued. As she again
attentively surveyed the worn countenance of the
chief, still noble in decay, visions of other days, painful
gratitude, a thousand undefined emotions, darted
through her mind. The words almost formed upon
her lips, `chief, I will be thine for life.' The effort
was beyond her strength. The determination passed,
replaced by another remembrance. Calculating pity
again returned, in place of this momentary relenting.
She seemed to hesitate for words, as she resumed,
`chief, I half believe that I can impart a cure to thee
for this idle fancy.' There was a tone of mournful
sternness and decision in his reply. `Art thou the
one, Wakona, who hast called this feeling, as old as
my life, and the last, which will die with me, an idle
fancy? Thou wouldst not, in a feigned humility unworthy
of thee, deny, that thou art deserving of this
feeling. It would be pain to me to believe, thou
words upon the tongue, which come not from the
heart. And yet to look upon one, like me, borne
steadily onward towards the sunless valley, by an incurable
oppression of heart, and call his hopeless disease
an idle fancy, seems not like the considerate
kindness of Wakona.'
She stood reproved, and hesitating, and with a
forced quickness added, `thou seemest not to have remarked,
what a charming girl our Katrina has become.
She is as fresh in mind, and as ardent in her
capacity to love, as she is beautiful in person. Chief,
I could learn this fair girl to love thee, not with a sisterly
kindness, as I do, but with an affection, such as
thou wouldst desire in a wife.'
She had never heard him speak in a tone so like
bitterness, as in his reply. `This is not kind of thee,
Wakona. I see, that my importunities weary thee,
and that thou wouldst gladly divert them to Katrina,
who is, I can see, as easily as thou, a beautiful and a
thoughtless child. Could I forget all the past, and
by a wish remove this disease from my bosom, and by
another wish replace her image there, I see, that
there would be no impediment between thee and the
loved pale face.' The grave rebuke carried cutting
truth with it; and the starting crimson in her cheeks
told the chief, that his words had sped, like an arrow
to the aimed mark. To hide her own confusion, she
added rapidly, `Yes, chief, this charming girl, an orphan,
like myself, and desert reared, like thee, who
has no thoughts beyond thy race, (I have no fear, that
thou wilt betray, or improperly use my confidence)
loves thee, loves thee with her whole heart; and if she
find no requital, will doubtless suffer, as thou dost.'
`Yes,' he answered, `Katrina is beautiful. She has
been trained by thee; and reposing upon the rose, has
caught something of its fragrance. It is possible, that
me. Thinkest thou, that I am so little versed in character,
as not to know that this dear child will be likely
at present to suffer little from feelings of a depth and
permanence like mine? Wouldst thou compare with
the transient feelings of such a one, that deep cherished
affection, which has made a chief, the descendant
of fifty braves, what I am! Ah! Wakona, turn
the sun from its bright path in the sky. Roll back
the Sewasserna to its source. Become thou Katrina,
and transform her to thyself, and I will be ready to
love her.' She replied, `Chief, in stating so strongly
the impossibility of loving her, dost thou not prove,
that the affections cannot be controlled? Dost thou
not furnish my own apology, when I confess, that I
have admired, trusted, respected thee, felt as a sister
to a brother, felt obligations beyond all words to express,
reposed in thee unlimited trust, always rejoiced
to see thee! Yet there is'—
The chief saw, that she broke off under the influence
of such emotions, as he had never witnessed before.
He saw, that she was unusually distressed. The
generous and absorbing character of his disinterested
affection produced its wonted result, in inducing him
to forget his own sufferings in deeper concern for
hers. A glimpse that she was verging to a new kind
and degree of confidence caught his thoughts. He
saw, that she was gathering confidence to make disclosures.
He saw, that they could bring nothing of
hope to him. Yet, as the eye of a youthful trembler
is rivetted upon the terrific phantom, which imagination
has created in the darkness, as the charmed bird
rushes blindly towards its doom, to reach this terrible
secret, whatever it might be, became the object of his
most earnest desire. He put his hand on his forehead,
under a kind of presentiment of what she would
say. Whatever it was, he saw, that irrepressible desire
amounted to agony to declare what was on her mind.
He resumed his self-possession and gloomy firmness, as
he saw her struggling to speak, and yet withheld, as
though speech had been repressed by a sudden fever,
that had parched her lips beyond utterance. `The
afternoon is beautiful,' said the chief. `The Great
Spirit looks down approving what thou wouldst say.
We are alone in the midst of the mountains; and human
ear, save mine, shall not hear thy confessions.
Thou owest thy brother full confidence. I will not
ask thee, if I have not deserved it? The suspense
which I have long suffered, in regard to thy sentiments,
is the most afflicting of all evils. If thou now
impart stinted measures of confidence to thy brother,
I swear to thee, by the Master of Life, that I will never
converse in this way with thee again. Do not I
well know, that however terrible to me, thou canst
make no disclosures, which will not honor thyself? I
am now in a frame of mind to bear all; and this is the
crisis of thy brother's fate. I adjure thee, by thy
Master of Life and mine, to say all, and to keep back
nothing.' Enthusiasm imparted to his pale and languid
countenance a fearful brightness of excitement,
and his earnest and impassioned tones caused tears to
flow down her cheeks. `Areskoui,' she said, `I tremble
at thy words; tremble at the disclosure of my inward
thoughts; and tremble as I now feel, and as thou
hast adjured me, to hold back. Hast thou not divined,
chief, what I would confess? The moment, I have
said it, we shall both wish, I fear, that it were forever
committed to the silence of the grave.' `I begin to
comprehend,' he cried, his eyes glistening with an
unearthly radiance. `Chief,' she answered, turning
pale, `these conversations are not good for either of
us. Let us return.' `Not in this moment of compliance.
I adjure thee by whatever the red men hold
thing, I repeat, is so terrible as suspense. I begin to
divine, that I am in the way, and that I can yet do
one thing more for thy happiness;' and as he said this
the big round drops formed on his forehead. `Oh!
Areskoui,' she answered, in the attitude of the most
earnest entreaty, `I implore thee, let me not see thee
thus. Thou canst never know, what I suffer to behold
thee wasting away in thy prime. Friends, as
we are, we each seem destined to destroy the other.
Katrina cherishes love for thee. Thou desirest from
me the impossibility of an affection of a more earthly
character, than the sisterly one, which is as old, and
as unchangeable, as my being. I, too,—spare me the
confession of shame and guilt; I have suffered from
an internal wound, mingling its torments with my trials
and bereavement, as an orphan, as a captive. I
felt the smart, when another would have deemed it
both impossible, and unworthy, that I should have
thought of any thing, but the pressure of my own immediate
sorrows. I have felt, that I owed most to
thee. I have striven to control the affections of this
capricious heart, even as the drowning would contend
for life. Frederic, insensible, and immovable, knows
not, dreams not, that I thus suffer. Or did he know
it, the buoyant and beautiful Katrina, I perceive,
would be the choice of his heart. Nothing remains
for us, but the tried confidence of perpetual friendship.
Let us adore the dispensations of providence, that
have mixed for us this cup. Let us seek for eternal
rest only in those mansions, which Elder Wood describes
to us.'
To her astonishment the countenance of the chief
began gradually to settle to a calm. His manner became
collected. An imposing serenity diffused itself
over his person. `Now,' he said, in his customary
tones, `there is no mystery in all this. From the first
good, and what chances had an untutored red man
beside him? Why hast thou not told him a hundred
times the secret of thy love! You have been alone
with him every day. A word would have explained
all. He loves with an ardor as near like mine—as
the colder and more calculating spirit of the pale
face will admit. You have walked together in concealment
and agony, deceiving and deceived, merely
to torment each other. A curse rest on the deceitful
ways of the pale face. And these are the fruits of
civilization! Thou hast pitied Areskoui; and a love,
which should have been as free as the winds, has been
chained up by deceit, and the vile calculations of the
pale face. Hast thou yet to learn, that Areskoui is
generous and brave; and that if he is the slave of passion,
he is only a slave in that? You shall see, how
easily he can dispose of the only obstacle in the way
of your enjoyment. My parents! They drag on an
existence, which a red man abhors. Let their sorrows
also come to an end.' `Areskoui,' she cried,
`you terrify me. What mean you? Is it thus, thou
wouldst render me happy? Ah! thou little knowest
the heart of thy sister.'
At this point of their interview, Elder Wood, Katrina
and Frederic approached the bower, alarmed at
the length of the conversation, and remembering the
result of a former visit to that place. A kind of recoil
at the interruption affected both. Disclosures
had been made, which might call in all the pride and
stubbornness of the chief to cure this morbid indulgence
of his passion. Pity for her, suffering from the
same cause with himself, might neutralize and assist
him to subdue it.
The entering party saw in a moment, that a conversation
of no common interest had been suspended
in the midst; and they stood in embarrassed silence,
seated. The chief motioned them to enter, and sit
down. He stood himself a step in advance of Jessy,
who also stood; and he was looking, apparently in
profound thought, upon the bosom of the blue lake.
A firm and composed serenity sat on his countenance.
In an under tone the entering party remarked upon
the extreme beauty of the evening. Half of the red
disk of the sun yet shone above the highest western
peaks. The beautiful lake, as a sleeping mirror, five
hundred feet below, reflected the half of the sun's
orb, the evening clouds of brass and crimson, that curtained
his departure behind the blue summits. The
green forests, the moon in the east, the sweet rural
scenery, grouped with mountain grandeur, all showed
more glorious in the far depths, than as they stood
forth in the air! The Shoshonee smokes curled above
their habitations, and then spread in horizontal curtains
of ethereal whiteness. The baying of the dogs
and the thousand domestic sounds of life brought up
associations of repose and joy. The pines and hemlocks
lifted their dark green heads in motionless quietness,
as if waiting to tremble in the evening breeze.
The council house was in full view, and Ellswatta
and his council chiefs could be seen on their benches,
as dusky specks; and it was easy to imagine, that the
eye caught the smoke rising from their calumets.
The turtles cooed at hand. The night hawk darted
down the clouds with its accustomed scream. Song
sparrows and orioles were discussing their vespers,
before they rested in the green brake for the night.
Every object was lovely; and nature showed in that
holy repose, which invites meditation.
`How lovely this evening,' cried Elder Wood, `the
scene calls on us for our praises. Nature in its devotional
silence praises him. Let us sing `Rise my
soul,' and he was proceeding to give out his accustom
saw him attempting to speak, and witnessed the new
spectacle, that his eyes were filled with tears. But,
as if summoning disdain, and all his former energy
to his aid, he dashed them from his eye. In a moment
they saw him self-possessed again. He waved
his hand to the other three, and said `My words now,
medicine father, are for thee. Father, seest thou
this still evening and yonder fair valley? Is it not, as
if the Master of Life had come upon the scene, bringing
joy and peace? How beautiful are the clouds in
the sky? and how quiet is every thing but this beating
breast? But yonder, in the depths of the blue lake, is
a world still more beautiful. There are the green
trees, the mountains, the scaling eagle, the skimming
swallow; and there, too, is Wakona—still brighter
than here. How beautiful! Thither flies away to
remain in shadow all that is pleasant above. There
on those hills the spirit, which has here been imprisoned,
can soar again, and look at the sun, which has
left us behind the hills. The spirit of Areskoui longs
to become, as yonder eagle.' The three, still unconscious
of his purpose, approached him, as if startled
at the strangeness of his discourse. He waved his
hand to them, that his speech was still to Elder Wood.
`Father,' he resumed, `remember my charge. Repair
to Ellswatta with thy good medicine words about
the land of souls. Tell my parents that they have
said to Areskoui more than once, `thy forefathers
were all braves.' More than one of them, when sick
at heart, determined to visit the Master of Life in the
sunless valley. I am the end of this line of braves.
True—but the leaves wither, the flowers fade. Winter
comes. Is it strange, that a line of braves should
have an end? Areskoui should have been as his fore
fathers. His heart, struck by the Master of Life,
withered, and he could no longer hope to be a brave.
for the last time, before my heart was all melted away.
I swear to the Master of Life, I will not remain, to
be as a feeble, and despised woman. I go to soar
with the eagle, and to look at the sun. Wakona,
there in the depths, shall at last be mine.' Astonished
at his language, Jessy, Katrina and Frederic each
grasped his robe at the same moment. It was spread
loosely over his shoulder, and his usual dress, a close
silk tunic. He gracefully folded his robe, laid it on
the arm of Jessy, and with the quickness of thought
poised his hands, bent forward his head, and darted
down the depths, like an arrow discharged from a
bow. The eye scarcely traced his passage down the
dizzying depths, when the faint plunge was heard, and
the disturbed ripples were settling back to repose.
The parties stood thunder struck for a moment in
speechless horror. Jessy fell in faintness upon the
robe of the chief. The scene produced on Katrina
the natural effect of youthful exclamations and tears.
Frederic sprang down the shelving declivity, and was
in the lake, waiting to see, where the chief would rise.
Elder Wood forgot for the moment his wards, the one
unconscious in faintness, the other tearing her raven
locks, and uttering the shrieks of agonized terror,
and ran for the town. Mingled sounds of lamentation
began to swell on the ear, and hundreds of the
Shoshonee were flocking to the scene. Josepha started
with the rest; but had scarcely made ten paces,
before she uttered a shriek, and fell in strong convulsions,
and was carried back by women, who felt that
to be the most pressing duty, to her habitation. Two
hundred of the most expert swimmers were diving in
these fathomless waters. Others were pushing out
canoes with dragging hooks attached to lines, which,
it was soon found, reached not the bottom. Ellswatta
sat on the rocks, watching these fruitless efforts, with
chaunt was occasionally heard, as he dashed
away the first tears he had ever been seen to shed.
`The last of my race has gone before me. Weak and
solitary old warrior, it is time for thee to follow.'
They dived, until the blood streamed from their nostrils,
as they rose, to no purpose. They doubled, and
tripled their lines, and found neither bottom nor body.
The chief had descended with a purpose too fixed to
allow his body to rise in the last struggle. He had
sunk too far towards the roots of the mountains to be
found. Two hours elapsed in these fruitless exertions.
`Come away, my children,' cried the chief.
`Let no other father be made childless, in searching
for a corse.' Elder Wood approached him, sustaining
Jessy on his arm, whose wild and haggard look intimated,
that the stroke had almost touched her reason.
In a moment the crowd gathered in mute and
fixed attention round the father and the minister.
`Council chief,' said the minister, `I have a message to
thee from thy son.' He put his calumet to his mouth,
wiped his eyes, and drew a whiff of the smoke. He
then said, `I listen, medicine father.' Elder Wood
declared his last charge from Areskoui. As he repeated
`I go to soar with the eagle, and look at the
sun,' the father took his calumet from his mouth, and
raised the funeral Cheowanna ha! ha! and the awful
dirge swelled high and long among the mountains.
All was finished. The collection began to steal away
in the darkness towards their homes. Elder Wood
and Frederic bore home, as they might, the two orphans,
and Ellswatta followed, occasionally chaunting
`The last of my race died a brave. Thy father will
soon follow thee.'
Much, that ensued can be easiest imagined. Josepha,
frantic with grief beyond endurance, expired
in convulsions. Areskoui had always been the idol of
people, in whose view fearlessness and contempt of
death is the highest title to admiration, redeemed his
memory from all the contempt created by the weakness
of his last days. Revolutions in that fierce republic
arose as suddenly, as a thunder storm. A
hasty council, for the election of a new war chief,
was assembled with a bustle and haste, which showed
their terrors at the idea of an interregnum. Ellswatta
cared no longer for any thing. The agony of Pentanona
forbade his making an effort. Caucus and
scramble and high words and electioneering, in its
most odious forms, ensued. The Shienne were busy,
and the real friends of the old succession paralyzed
with horror. It was the hour for brooding and keen
eyed ambition. Then the intriguing aspirant kindled
his own star, and became the author of his own destiny.
None slept that night in the Shoshonee valley.
As Elder Wood and Frederic conducted the weeping
orphans homewards, amidst the buzzing groups, they
were sufficiently instructed, that their presence in the
valley was now considered, as a circumstance of evil
omen. `They are leagued with the little white men
of the mountains against us,' was the cry. `Wakona
witched our chief to death.' There was no indication
of direct violence; but their best friends shrunk
from them. They were indubitably convinced, that
Jessy was considered, as having caused the death of
the chief, and that even their safety would probably
soon be a matter of question. A war chief was
elected by the union of various factions, agreeing only
in their envy and dislike towards the former succession.
An enemy to Ellswatta, and a favorite of the
Shienne now swayed the efficient power of this tumultuous
republic.
Elder Wood, as soon as his young friend and the
orphans had entered the house, shut, and barred the
fearful people. I would, we were far away from
them. We will sell our lives, however, if they attack
us.' The two men arrayed their guns and their
weapons; and the two orphans sat clasped as on another
occasion in each other's arms. Having made
all possible preparations for defence, `now,' said the
minister, `let us consult the word of God, and go to
the throne of mercy, after all the horrors we have
seen, and in view of what we have still to dread.' He
turned the scriptures from passage to passage reading
of Him, who stilleth the noise of the waves, and the
tumults of the people; whose way is to be reverently
sought, even when He planteth his footsteps in the
trackless waters, and maketh his judgments a great
deep. He went firmly through his regular and accustomed
train of devotion, only omitting the call to
them to join in the hymn, as he said, `my children, it
cannot be expected, that you have not been too much
shocked, with what you have seen, to have freedom
to sing. I am an old man, and nothing ought to be
so strange or terrible, as to break in upon my devotions.
There is nothing enduring but God, nothing
important, but eternity;' and he sang his wonted
hymn through, with a firm and collected voice. Having
finished, he said, `I charge you, my children, now,
in any emergency, to act according to your duty, and
not according to your fears or your feelings; and you,
Jessy, I adjure you by the living God, to calm yourself,
and take food, and lie down, and court rest. It
is not unlikely, that we may soon be called to put forth
all our self possession. There is no doubt, but we
must speedily away from this people; and we shall
have need of all our strength and calmness. Effeminate
grief befits not the calls of present duty. Let
Katrina have an example of composure.'
There were reason and truth in these paternal expostulations.
comparatively calm. `Go to your rest,' resumed
Elder Wood, `and Frederic and myself will
keep watch in our arms.' They had scarcely turned
to obey, when some one seemed to be striving to obtain
admittance. The effort seemed one of determination,
but not of violence. The intruder had already
entered, and walked forwards, heedless of their pistols
and swords. The orphans had retreated with
the lamp; and it was some moments, before, by the
uncertain light, they recognised Ellswatta. He threw
off his buffalo robe, and stood before them in his tunic.
His cheeks were painted black, and the furrows of
his face seemed to have increased in number and
depth. `Thank God,' cried Elder Wood, `that we
did not slay you as a foe, before we knew you.' The
chief drew his calumet from his mouth, `and I should
have thanked the Master of Life, if ye had killed me.
It is the best service any one can now render me.
Would I not have chosen to have thus fallen by the
hands of friends, than to drag on a useless and despised
life, or be slain by enemies?' He seated himself.
`On this seat,' he continued, `I have seen my
noble son a hundred times, in the midst of you;' and
for a moment the recollection overcame him; and
they saw Ellswatta, the hoary and firm, whose proud
boast it had been, that the thunderer was not strong
enough to wring tears from him, actually weeping.
He struggled hard against nature, and attempted to
resume his conversation. Deep spasmodic sobs, as of
impeded respiration, repressed speech. `I, too, am
become a woman, like the rest,' at length he uttered,
and resumed his calumet to regain self possession.
`Man that is born of a woman,' said Elder Wood, `is
but of few days and full of trouble. In every clime
we see, that the original clay was moistened with
tears, instead of water.'
The hoary chief had recovered himself, as he began
to sing in the customary strain of Indian recitative.
`My son is gone! My wife is gone! The frost has
cut us off! Another chief reigns! I am the last of
my race!' He then offered the calumet to each, who
drew once or twice of the smoke, and puffed it towards
the sky, in token that they accepted his pledge
of peace. He then spake as follows. `Father, and
my children of the pale face, hearken. I blame you
not, that I have neither wife nor child, nor friendly
hand to lay me under the turf. I blame you not, because
we have a chief, who was always an enemy to
him, who was the light of my eyes. They were torn
from my heart, without the fault of any one. Thou
hast often said truly, father, that it is wise to drink
patiently of the cup, which is mixed for us. Master
of Life, Ellswatta, though gray headed and alone,
murmurs not against thee. Neither, Wakona, do I
chide thee, because thou couldst not direct the stream,
that flows from the fountain of the heart. I rather
honor thee, that thou didst not, like the deceiving pale
face, feign, what thou didst not feel. I feel the warrior
spirit returning. The life of man is but a few
short moons. Had you loved him, had he lived, I, my
wife, and even my son, would have soon withered, and
gone down to the sunless valley, in the course of the
seasons. I only lose the light of heaven a few days
sooner. Every thing, that comes forth from the
Master of Life, is marked with the dark speck of decay,
and nothing, that has been, could have been
changed. The red people here think not so. They
murmur at their desolate council chief, and say, that
his love for the pale face has brought all these evils.
Their murmurs begin to be directed towards you.
The very chief, who has become so by the death of
my son, and who in his heart rejoices in his fall, charges
the guilt on Wakona. He says, that the pale face
of the mountains, to extirpate all the red men of this
valley, as they have destroyed them elsewhere. The
crafty new chief would exult, in acquiring favor at the
beginning of his rule, by arousing the sleeping vengeance
of the red people, and then directing its fury
upon you. If you would avoid danger and death, and
spare them the guilt of inflicting it, arise, and depart
from this valley, which is black with the curse of the
Master of Life, before the morning shall arouse an appetite
for blood. Ellswatta has lived too long; and
he wishes to relieve his sorrows, by seeking his son in
the depths of the blue lake. The forewarning of
Maniteewah is accomplished. I should consider it a
kindness of any of my people to kill me. But let not
the stain of your blood be upon them. Come, my
friends, not a moment is to be lost. The moon walks
brightly in the firmament. My own periogue is at
hand in the stream. Let its last office be to convey
my friends from this blood-stained valley. Take all,
that you wish to carry, especially enough of food to
last you to the town of the pale face. Two faithful
friends, who yet obey the orders of the old chief, will
row you to the dashing of the great river. Away, my
children. I should tremble to see you lingering here,
until morning shall return over the mountains.'
The parties consulted a moment in a low voice by
themselves; and unanimously agreed, that the chief
counselled with his accustomed considerate generosity,
and for the best. To Elder Wood it was indeed
as tearing his deepest hope from the fibres of his
heart, thus to leave the promise of a harvest of souls.
But the recent horrors had sufficiently instructed him,
how little dependence could be placed upon a people,
subject to such violent and terrible convulsions. Besides,
nature spoke in his heart, and told him, that his
first duty was to the unprotected orphans; and that
be spilled uselessly with theirs. `The crown of martyrdom,'
he said, `is a fearful, though glorious one.
If you, my dear children, were safe, I should choose
to remain, and risque my stake for it.' The cheek of
Jessy blanched to a more deadly pale, and she said,
`I abide with you, be it to remain or depart.' `Then
God do so to me and more,' he cried, with his wonted
energy, `if I depart not with you forthwith.' `Thou
sayest wisely,' said the chief; `for I doubt not, that
thou wouldst be the first victim.'
All hesitancy being banished, Ellswatta and his
two friends aided them to carry such articles, besides
food, as seemed most indispensable to them, to the
periogue. In less than an hour the arrangements
were made, during which Ellswatta was assiduous
beyond his age, in hurrying their preparations. When
they were completed, Jessy desired a moment for a
final visit to the graves of her parents, that she might
there utter her everlasting farewell to the valley.—
`Thou art in the right,' said the chief, `thus to remember
thy parents; but in the wrong, in either wasting
a moment, or trusting thyself alone on this terrible
night. I will protect the sacred graves. Little men
shall not walk over them, until they may safely do it
over mine.' Seeing her and Elder Wood still disposed
to linger, the good chief seized them by the
hand, as the angel hurried his charge from burning
Sodom, and led them to the river; and they cast off
the fast, after their guides were seated to their paddles,
to make their way down the stream by the melancholy
radiance which the moon gave forth from the
firmament. The venerable chief held up his hands
towards the sky, `Master of Life,' he said, `give these,
my dear departing children, bright suns and favoring
gales; and waft them safely over the dark waters of
the great salt lake.' He then embraced each in turn.
stained vallies, invoke blessings from the Wahcondah
on the desolate chief, the last of his race. Wakona,
he, who loved thee, sleeps under the waters of the
blue lake; but in this last embrace, I feel, as if I held
him once more to my bosom. All the past is already
no more, than the fading shadows of memory.' The
past rushed upon her; and in leaving the good chief,
she felt, as if father and mother and friend had once
more been snatched from her; and as she wept, and
threw her arms around him—`adieu,' she said, `dear
and venerable old man, would to God, that I had returned
the affection of thy noble son, if that might
have saved him.' `Spend not the strength, which thy
journey requires, in useless tears,' said the chief, as he
raised her gently from his bosom, and placed her in
the periogue. They floated rapidly away, and the
last sounds, that they heard from the shore, were the
measured and diminishing wail of the chief. `My
wife, my son, my friends are gone, and I am the last of
my race.'
Few circumstances can be imagined to inspire
more affecting sentiments, than those, that rushed
upon the hearts of these departing guests, a second
time leaving this vale. One of their guides sat in the
bow, and the other in the stern, alternately dipping
their paddles in the stream. The moon was sometimes
hidden behind dark masses of clouds, and sometimes
behind the lofty peaks of the mountains; and
they saw the inverted trees and cliffs speeding in appearance
up the stream. Jessy sat by Elder Wood
in silent prayer. The man of God also said not what
were the subjects of his thoughts. Katrina alone
leaned on the shoulder of Frederic, and slept, as a
babe in the lap of the mother.
The melancholy party arrived safely at Astoria.
A passage was engaged for them in a fine American
time was occupied either in the necessary pecuniary
transactions, which were readily, and amicably arranged;
or in endearing conversations, in which their
future course was discussed. Elder Wood, as formerly,
showed recoil, and a disposition to look after
their departing guides, as he thought of the long voyages
before them. `A Kentuckian,' he said, `better
loves range, the green wood shade, and the smell of
fresh fallen trees, than to toss on the wearying billows.
What shall I do among the yellow and avaricious
China-men, and the people, who follow no mystery,
but the leaves of a ledger. Thank God, by trap and
gun, by mountain glen, torrent and lake, I have acquired
from the wild animals, granted by the Creator
for the use and service of man, enough for all my
wants. By honest spoils from the Russian, and the
vile trader, I have something more than a compotence.
I hate the sea, and ledgers, and all the mystery
of gain, that comes in that way. Would to
God we were all safe in Kentucky. It is the best
country after all. May my worn out frame be finally
sheltered in its parent soil.'
`And I,' added Frederic, `here feel myself once
more a stranger among you. Why should I hang as
an incumbrance, to a society, to which a mere idle
imagination at first attached me? Yet I hope, you
will not be unwilling, that I should take a passage
with you over the sea.' `Is it possible,' asked Jessy,
`that we, who have seen, and suffered so much together,
and who sustain such peculiar relations to each
other, should feel it necessary to talk in this way? Is
it true, what my dear father used so often to repeat,
that the free and full sentiments of the heart are only
felt in solitudes, and among the red men? Is it true,
that, the moment we touch the ships of commerce,
and make arrangements to return to society, we begin
My good friends, I do not feel, as though one of us
could be separated from the other. How little is my
heart acquainted with ideas, like those, to which you
allude. For you, Elder Wood, we two hold to you
as daughters. Providence has assigned us to your
charge; and we have no fear, that you will leave us,
whether you consider us a burden, or not. For you,
Frederic, you avow, that you have no distinct place
for the future. Allow me to propose one. You are
not to leave us either now, or wherever we shall settle.
I have never thought for a moment of making
use of the papers bequeathed to me by one, I need
not name. You are the proper person, as you know
the family, to attend to all these circumstances. I
have enough already for all my wants. There need
be no remonstrance. I will never avail myself of any
thing, that may be obtained from that source. The
whole duty and the whole bequest devolve on you, or
no one. You will not show a disposition so uncompromising,
as to refuse the charge, which I now deposit
in your hands. Let us here arrange our future
plans. China, I am satisfied, will be no country, in
which any of us would choose permanently to settle.
It awakens tender thoughts in me, only as the parent
land of my dear mother. The great, free, and glorious
country of my father, is that in which we should
all probably desire to fix our permanent residence.
Let us settle whatever is necessary; and repair thither,
as speedily as possible. I look forward to the time,
when we shall find some pleasant home, in which we
shall constitute one happy family, to be severed only
by death. I fix my mind incessantly on this consummation,
so soothing to my troubled spirit, as a kind of
remedy against the last earthly evil, mental alienation.
The horrible scenes, through which we have
all so recently passed, haunt my waking imagination,
distraction, perhaps with the guilty complacency of
having indulged too much satisfaction in the pride of
reason. I have earnestly prayed God, that this cup
might pass from me. Nothing would so certainly, and
immediately inflict it, as the separation of any one
of our number from us.'
Indeed, had the minds of the rest been sufficiently
cool and disengaged to note them, there had been already
manifold indications, that the interesting mourner,
overwhelmed by the succession of tragic incidents,
which she had experienced for the last few
months, was at times under the influence of that species
of mental excitement, called hallucination. She
had, more than once, uninvited, commenced one of
her valley ballads, singing it with a sweetness that
thrilled the bosoms of her friends, at the same time,
that her unwonted cheerfulness of expression struck
them with astonishment. This gaiety was wholly unlike
the retiring manner of even her happiest former
days. She laughed in the midst of tears. A partiality
for Frederic began to be visible to every eye, but
the diffident one, towards which it was directed. She
became unusually particular in her attention to her
person and dress, studying, in the requisition of all her
exquisite taste, how to dress, so as to display her person
to most advantage. The glow of this recent excitement
on the lily of her pale cheek, the almost
fearful brilliance of her naturally bright eye, imparted
a new and dazzling lustre to her beauty; and as
she entered, the second morning of their stay at Astoria,
to the breakfast table, even Elder Wood, not
at all remarkable for having his attention arrested by
beauty, whispered Frederic, `my daughter Jessy
shows the nearest like an angel, of aught that I have
imagined. In truth, it would be hard to find her
match in all Kentucky.'
Though nothing could now be apprehended to inspire
them with any founded dread of danger, they
agreed not to separate a moment from each other,
during the day; and during the night, Elder Wood
and Frederic slept, armed at all points, on the outside
of their door. They spent the days in wandering
through the adjoining prairies and hemlock forests.
It was the musing season, so beautiful in every
portion of the American forest, when some of the
leaves already rustle, and fall; and the rest are in
green, orange, scarlet and purple, exhibiting at once
a richness and a fund of associations with the deepest
thoughts of decay, and the fragility of whatever belongs
to the earth, which render this season so delightful
to a contemplative mind. As they walked on
the verge of the glorious forest, amidst the million
yellow flowers of the prairie, and the perfect repose
of Indian summer, whose soft clouds slept in the firmament,
they were startled from their meditations by
noting Shoshonee periogues rowing up the magnificent
Oregon. `Do your thoughts, like mine,' asked
Jessy, `follow these red men, whom I cannot but regard
as brothers, all the long way up this stream, and
the Sewasserna, to the sweet valley? Do your
thoughts turn with mine instinctively to yonder blue
summits?' `Assuredly,' answered Elder Wood; `no
one here loveth mountains, and that wild and beautiful
country, as I do. The wild deer, the mountain
eagle, and the Kentuckian, have the same instinctive
love for range. The spirits of my people exult in nature's
freshness of forests, which the axe has not
touched; in secluded vales, where the bear and buffalo
rear their young. We are yet a frank and unsophisticated
people, and many of our noblest sons, unspoiled
by the effeminate feebleness and sterility of refinement.
It must be an instinctive and ever present
sense of the vanity, meanness, rivalry, supplantation,
impudent, a consciousness of the sordid and pitiful passions
always in action in society, that drives the generous
thought to take shelter in the grandeur and repose
of nature. The psalmist must have had the
heart of a Kentuckian, when he cried, `Oh! that I
had the wings of a dove, that I might fly away and be at
rest.' What a delightful residence would have been
yonder vale of the Shoshonee, had it been the abode
of the security of law, and, what I once hoped it
would be, of Christianity! Were it such, I would return
thither to spend my days. But alas! Were our
people there, the axe, the plough and the loom would
follow. The grating of the saw and the clink of machinery
would be heard. The barbarous dialect of
political economy would be spoken, and the buffalo,
antelope and mountain sheep would, in a little time,
be found only as skeletons in a museum. The grouse
would no longer whistle away from the mountain
heath, nor the partridge be heard drumming among
the dark pine woods. The innumerable flights of sea
fowl, the regular lines of geese, swans, pelicans and
loons, of every wing and cry, would no longer be
heard careering on the vernal breeze, from the shores
of ocean towards the interior. Towns, turnpikes and
canals, and the smoke of manufactories driven by
steam, would rise in the view of the Kentucky hunter.
True; there is one glory in those lofty summits, that
have sheltered us for so many years. Man cannot
dig down their everlasting battlements. Thank God!
He has made something, that defies the pick-axe and
gun-powder. Those blue summits would continue to
look down in derision upon the puny efforts of civilization.
But the man of society would soon be the
same there, as in towns. Even the Shoshonee in a
few years would become prudent and calculating even
in their loves; and the only medicine secret of directing
beaver, which the girl could bring. But alas! blue
hills, roaring torrents, beaver streams, the range of
the swan and the buffalo, and the free thought, I shall
visit you no more. I must spend the remnant of my
days, where the limits of the farms are recorded; and
where the learned in the law have the highest places.
Be it so. My better thoughts will be allowed no rest
but in heaven.'
Such remarks sufficiently indicate the feelings, with
which Elder Wood left this romantic country forever.
The sails of the gallant ship, in which they took passage,
shortly after were spread upon the Pacific.—
There were many respectable American fur dealers
on board. But there was an inner cabin; and it hardly
need be said, that the Shashonee emigrants, bound
to each other by so many peculiarities, were seen almost
constantly together. They talked over the past
with such a tone, as the character of the incidents
naturally imparted. Jessy amused herself in sketching
from memory a hundred different spots which
they had passed in their travels; and the conversation
often turned upon the future. In these intimate communions
in the narrow precincts of a cabin, and while
tumbling on the bosom of the ocean, under circumstances,
which, more than any other, tend to banish
restraint and reserve, the rich, balanced and well
principled mind of Frederic had an opportunity for
its true display. If Jessy had loved before, she now
cherished towards him all those sentiments which had
hitherto been shared by other objects. Her self complacency,
too, was soothed, to find that every conversation
developed new treasures in his mind, and that
now the severest scrutiny of her judgment confirmed
the previous decisions of her heart.
Unhappily, Katrina saw him in the same light; and
as yet entirely unadvised of the position of Jessy in
budded for the young chief, rudely broken off by his
tragic end, now that she hourly experienced the courtesies,
and saw the worth of Frederic, was transferred
to him. Her glistening eye was too frequently, and
intently fixed upon his high forehead, and his noble
countenance, as he entered their state room. With
the perfect frankness of her ardent and untrained nature,
she was not slow to disclose her new secret to
Jessy, who, won by this generous confidence, no longer
felt the tortures of jealousy. `I am a fool,' said
the charming Spanish girl at her confessional. `I
thought, I should never again think of any one, but
the noble chief. But Frederic is certainly handsomer;
and, I am astonished to find, equally good.' Jessy
this time caressed her, and repeated a longer chapter
of matronly admonitions, and affectionate counsels,
than she had given her on a former occasion. But
the inexperienced girl was under the impulse of a fervor
of feeling too strong to be arrested; and her marks
of partial tenderness, unwittingly shown, were as innocent,
as they were palpable. They finally caught
the eye of even Elder Wood, little accustomed to note
such matters. `We must have an eye to our Spanish
charge,' said he to Jessy; and they forthwith meditated
an united lecture with the poor girl on the subject.
In her Spanish-English-Indian dialect, half laughing,
and half wiping away the tears with her clustering
curls, she partly denied, and partly defended the
charge. `They allowed,' she contended, `that he was
good and handsome; why might she not love him?
Was it forbidden the people in the civilized world to
love, or required to dissemble?' `The one,' answered
Elder Wood, `was contrary to the customs of society;
and the other was unhappily often necessary. But
were it otherwise, he had information to impart, which
would operate, he hoped, through her pride, to produce
over this ill directed fancy.' `What is that,' she eagerly
asked? `Our friend has confessed to me, in
confidence, that he loves my daughter Jessy. The
headlong earnestness of his confession astonished me,
who had considered him a man remarkable for his
calmness and self possession.' The alternate paleness
and crimson in the cheek of both the girls showed,
that this information fell as a thunderstroke upon
them. The minister saw, that he had committed a
most egregious and embarrassing blunder, by this direct
announcement, and hurried out of the room.
The abruptness of this unexpected intelligence affected
Jessy with palpitations, that poorly qualified
her to impart the requisite cousolation to her charge.
She had scarcely succeeded in obtaining calmness
herself, and a cessation of the audible grief of
her companion, when the object of this discussion entered
their state room, and begged a confidential moment
with Jessy. The suppressed tears of Katrina
started anew, as she retired to the cabin, and left them.
`I have never seen a young lady, save one, more
beautiful and amiable, than that,' said Frederic. `As
playful as a fawn, she is as unsuspicious as an infant;'
and Jessy learned, that his object was to remove any
apprehensions, that he should note unfavorably the
manifestations of partiality, with which she had honored
him. Never had he exhibited to her a more
honorable test of the permanence and dignity of his
sentiments, than in the assurance, that he should allow
neither to his vanity or his wayward inclinations
a single movement of encouragement. Incapable of
the slightest return, he promised, never for a moment
to trifle with her peace. She had the satisfaction to
see, that the pledge was redeemed to the letter, and
to meditate upon this chivalrous decorum, practised
towards a girl almost constantly with him, who was
her cheek the rich carnation of the rose glowing on
the polished olive. She saw her lustrous black ringlets,
her sunny brightness of expression, her eyes of
piercing brilliance, the glow kindled from a southern
sun, and the infusion of the warm blood of her race,
shaded, and softened with an inexpressible languor of
tenderness and propriety. `What must be the strength
of that honor,' she thought, `that dictates such forbearance?
What the love, which has protected him
from the influence of so much beauty?
The three first days of their passage gave presages,
that happiness was about to return to this endeared
circle. On the fourth, a new and dark cloud arose
upon their prospects. Katrina was the first to discover,
that Jessy, after the announcement of Elder
Wood, gave undeniable evidence of mental alienation.
Instead of flying with the burden of the secret,
as would have been the first impulse of a less noble
mind, to the two gentleman, the strength and prudence
of her concealment triumphed over her terror.
She practised an ingenuity of invention entirely new
to her, in satisfying Elder Wood and Frederic, that
she was so indisposed, as to preclude their visits; and
yet without alarming them. During the first paroxysm,
the patient sometimes fancied herself at Manitouna,
and at other times in the castle at Ostroklotz,
in the power of Julius. She then imagined, she saw
him expiring in the flames. The scene of the massacre
of her parents next passed so vividly before her
eyes, as to excite shrieks of agony. She afterwards
believed herself soothing Areskoui, confessing her
paramount obligations, instructing him, that although
she could not conquer her attachment to Frederic,
yet, if he would receive her under such circumstances,
she was ready to become his bride. More frequently,
she appeared imprest that it was an autumnal sabbath
sitting near her under the pines, in front of her natal
home; that the evening devotions were just finished;
and that they were talking of the life to come. Gleams
of sanity and of the most intense anxiety, lest her
friends should witness her in this state, radiated
through these gloomy intervals, in which Katrina, in
utter inexperience, was tormented with solicitude,
what course she ought to pursue with her. On one
point she was settled; the most scrupulous and delicate
concealment of the case, if it might be, from her
friends. `Who knows,' she thought, with noble forgetfulness
of self, `what effect it might have upon the
love of Frederic?'
The first paroxysm passed off, after enduring two
days. The two friends were readmitted, not without
painful astonishment and enquiry, what could have
rendered such an interdict of their society necessary.
Frederic especially expressed himself with unwonted
energy, in delineating what he had suffered. Diffident,
and even hopeless as he had been of a return of
affection, it was with inexpressible surprise, that he
heard her gaily affirming, that the whole affair had
been a slight headache, magnified by Katrina into an
illness so formidable as to preclude company. She
was quite as eloquent, as he had been, in pourtraying
her sufferings from this interdict; and promising, that,
at the next attack, himself should be present to aid
in nursing her. Her countenance, the while, beamed
with an affectionate joy, which filled him with delight
equal to his admiration.
The evening, that ensued, was delightfully calm.
The ship, now touching the tropical climate, rippled
along the gently swelling cerulean with an almost
imperceptible motion. The sun, dipping his warm
forehead in the encrimsoned sea, was making a glorious
set in a canopy of golden clouds. It was one of
its charms. Immensity above, around, beneath,
acted upon the little spot of life alone on the abyss, as
the collected rays in the lens upon the focal object,
giving intensity to the kind feelings of each for the
other. The moon had already emerged from the
orient, bringing cool and bland breezes in her train;
and here and there a star began to twinkle in points
of the concave above. All labor was suspended; and
the passengers, as if bathing in the delicious air, were
walking, arm in arm, along the deck in groups. The
sailors were gaily conversing on the fore deck; and
the frequent and reckless laugh told, that their bosoms
were as light, as the evening was pleasant. The
four were sitting together on a settee by the companion
door. Jessy arose, and bowing gracefully to
Frederic, begged the honor of his arm, while she
walked the deck with the rest. He arose; she put
her arm within his, and they began to promenade.
With an easy frankness of confession, she led the way
to a disclosure of his sentiments by avowals on her
part. `Is it possible,' he exclaimed with delighted
enthusiasm, `that you encourage me to repeat declarations,
which I had thought forever interdicted?'
`Not only possible but certain,' she replied. `Why
should there be reserve between us longer? We
have suffered too much, to inflict, or endure this gratuitous
torment. Of the few, that remain of the dear
circle of our valley, each of us owes too much to the
other, to hold back from the most unreserved confidence.'
They had returned, and were immediately
in front of their friends on the settee. Katrina, with
an ever vigilant apprehension, saw in her excited
countanance the harbingers of another paroxysm. `I
have something,' she said, `to impart to my dear sister.
Let us to our state room.' Jessy, as it seemed, in a
they walked below.
Another period of apprehension and horrible suspense
ensued for the affectionate Katrina. Again
Jessy conceived herself in the valley, in the presence
of Areskoui and her parents. She seemed to hear
them summing up her obligations to the young chief,
and supplicating her to consent to a union with him,
as the only circumstance, which would ensure them
composure and confidence, in regard to her future
condition. She opposed to these views her avowed
love of Frederic. They still insisted; and such a
struggle ensued between her sense of duty to her parents,
and the claims of tenderness, as raised her excitement
to such a fearful issue, that Katrina, vanquished
by her terrors, called in Elder Wood. With
considerate kindness she still interdicted the entrance
of Frederic. It was in vain, however, longer to conceal
from him, that Jessy suffered intensely from
some kind of mental affection. He had been sufficiently
quick sighted, much as affection blinded him,
to note the change in her manners. Though, such
was her instinctive and exquisite sense of propriety,
that even her present transparent frankness sat naturally
upon her, and might have seemed the result of
the habits of a life. The excitement imparted a
brilliance to her eye, and a transient glow to her
cheek, which increased the interest of her loveliness.
It certainly was not less gratifying to his self-complacency,
to believe, that he had long been loved in concealment;
and now, that a succession of horrible
scenes, in which she had been tried, had occasionally
destroyed the balance of her pure and noble mind,
that the sentiment, which maidenly modesty had so
long reserved to itself, was disclosed. His heart
bounded in rapture, that the lovely, talented, and enthusiastic
day of beholding her, would finally be his; that all
his visions of earthly bliss would at last be realized.
Nor was it the least splendid point of his dream, to
reflect, that, in being united to her, he should have
chances to pay her those soothing attentions, and
place her in that tranquilizing position, in which he
might be instrumental, in restoring her mind to its
usual tone. She was young; she was in the highest
degree talented, and exquisitely beautiful; and she
had opulence, and, more than all, an amiability and
goodness peculiarly her own. His imagination was
busy in painting the delicious spot, in which he would
place her beside his friends, in his own great country;
and he was firmly persuaded, that, in his own case, he
should be able to give the lie to all that had been
said and sung, in reference to the impossibility of perfect
happiness on the earth.
Such were the visions of a lover's imagination. In
his impatience, he called on Katrina, requesting admission,
every half hour. But this paroxysm endured
longer, than the preceding. At length she became
more composed; and as the weather was still
delightfully calm, she insisted upon sitting with Katrina
alone on the quarter deck. From sunset till
midnight, she remained profoundly silent, looking intently
on the transparent bosom of the deep, glittering
with the sparkling gems and phosphoric brilliance
thrown back from the wake of the ship. The greater
part of two following days she passed in the same
state of mind; evidently solicitous to avoid the presence
of even Elder Wood. The perfect calm of the
weather, and the state of the sea, created that astonishing
transparency, which certain portions of the
ocean exhibit. In such circumstances, it is a spectacle
of poetic and sublime interest, either by sun or
moon light, to trace the cones of light downwards to
new universe were unfolded to the eye, the universe
of imagination and magic. The eye of Jessy was intensely
fixed on these cones of light. From a single
remark, which the importunities of Katrina drew
from her, it appeared, that her imagination had converted
this beautiful sea green world, in which every
object, in descending, became gem-like and radiant,
into the paradise of departed souls. The gliding
dolphins, glistening in colors more vivid than those of
the bow or the prism, and the darting forms of innumerable
fishes, as they gleamed in that world of enchantment,
in their ocean play, seemed to her, happy
beings exulting in the mansions beyond sin and death.
She imagined mountains, a valley, the Sewasserna,
her father's house, with its embowering pines, and her
parents holding out their arms, and desiring her to
descend to their embrace. In the wild ecstacy of
filial affection, she made a rapid movement over the
ship's side. Katrina grasped her in her arms; and,
in the buoyant energy of youthful power and love,
drew her back to her seat; and while fanning her, by
the sternness of her expostulation produced a revulsion,
that almost instantly restored her to reason and
sanity. At the moment a cool breeze filled the flapping
sails; and the ship once more bounded through
the transparent waters. The elastic cheerfulness,
created by the breeze and the motion, after the wearying
ennui of a calm, diffused the sympathetic gladness
through her bosom, as in the hearts of all others
on board. She embraced Katrina, exclaiming, `my
headache is gone, and the oppression from my heart
with it. I am afraid that Frederic should perceive, how
happy I am. He may imagine, that I am impatient
to arrive at Macoa, for the day of our nuptials.'
The following evening was even more charming
than the preceding. The air had a bland feeling of
but eludes the coloring of words. The parties,as usual,
were walking in groups under the steady swell of the
canvass, bounding over the billow by an advance,strong,
and yet equable, under moon and stars, radiating from
the ethereal brightness of tropical and cloudless azure.
It was the time when, in the obtusest bosoms, remembrances
of the natal spot, the loved affinities, and the
cherished associations far away, spring up, and soften
the heart to tenderness. Elder Wood and Frederic
sat with their fair friends on the settee, now congratulating
Jessy on the removal of her head-ache; now
looking at the sea and the stars; and only at intervals
dropping those unfinished sentences of joy, hope
and anticipation, which are the peculiar indexes of a
full heart.
Frederic begged her to take his arm, and walk the
deck for exercise; and she promptly consented. After
a silent turn or two, he resumed the theme nearest
his heart. `You have not, I hope, my dear friend,
been playing cruel jests with me, in the hopes, you
allowed me the other evening to entertain?' `You
know, Frederic,' she answered, with a kind of gay seriousness,
`that jesting belongs not to my powers; that
every thing with me is seriousness and from my full
heart.' Upon the word, she had no longer occasion
to reproach him, as she had sometimes in her heart before,
with the cold and studied words of an unfeeling
heart. His extravagance and enthusiasm of profession
almost excited a smile. It is sufficient to say,
that, amidst much fire and some smoke of poetic declaration,
the speech contained a most ample proffer
of love, homage and fidelity to death. She held out
her hands to him, not without something of jest in her
manner, (for he was in the fit posture for such a confession)
`begging him, not to mock her with this affectation
of humility;' and with queenly courtesy aided
to restore your countenance, after this humiliation, as
well as evidence the best returns, in my poor ability,
for such an eloquent declaration, to admit, that I, too,
have loved from the second week of our acquaintance.'
After the rapture of this ample ecclaircissement,
and the consequent confidential conversations and arrangements,
she entered into a free analysis of her
past thoughts and feelings in the valley, and during
her captivities. The first remembered feeling of
her heart had been gratitude towards Ellswatta and
Josepha, and friendship for their son. This latter
feeling had so grown with her growth, had been so
identified with gratitude, and a deep sense of obligation,
that she probably would never have known a different
or more tender sentiment, had not the appearance
of Frederic in the valley furnished her new
quickness of internal sight, in analyzing the nature of
her sentiments towards one and the other. Alas! she
found, that duty, gratitude, respect, and every other
association with the young chief, had been merged in
a tyrannic and master feeling, which inspired more
reluctance at the thought of being united to Areskoui,
every time the idea was contemplated. She admitted,
that an ever present sense of obligation, beyond all
hope of cancelling, that the calm testimony of her
judgment to the moral dignity, and intrinsic worth of
the chief, her pity for his morbid and hopeless passion,
her full sense, that an union with him was the wish of
her venerated father, would forever have prevented
her from allowing her own heart the indulgence of
love for another, much less the thought of an union.
The terrible scenes, through which she had recently
passed, had still more effectually precluded any
thoughts of the kind.
`But now,' she concluded, `that the grave has closed
though I doubt not, with the generous purpose to remove
an obstacle from my way, destroyed himself;
now, that we are in some sense alone to each other, I
know of no reason, to withhold the avowal of reciprocal
love. If my dear parents could indicate from
their holy abode their wishes, it seems to me, they
would rejoice to see me so safely and honorably connected.'
The conversation ended by a promise, that
she would be his, as soon after their arrival in China,
as decorum in relation to her parents would admit.
The rest may be imagined. Elder Wood and Katrina
were notified in due form, that the parties stood
pledged to each other, as engaged lovers. As such,
the minister joined their hands, and gave them his parental
and sacerdotal benediction. There being no
reason for concealment, the news soon became the
common property of all on board; in whom the surpassing
beauty of the orphans, the exaggerated estimates
of their supposed wealth, and the romantic outline
of their adventures, had excited a high degree of
interest.
In considerate kindness, Jessy requested Elder
Wood to inform Katrina in such a way, as would be
most likely to reconcile her thoughts to this inevitable
blow to her own partiality for Frederic. Katrina
had thought, she was prepared for the intelligence,
by considering it as a probable event. But, when she
heard it, as a certain fact, that he was pledged to be
another's forever, the information struck her as a blow,
that at first bewildered her thoughts. The paleness,
that ensued, was partly occasioned by the bitter sensation
of self-reproach, on finding, that it did not cause
unmixed satisfaction to hear, that the sister of her
heart was about to be happy. The ardor of her nature
was that of a generous and noble bosom. The
thought of too many girls in her predicament, and
been to have hinted to the lover, that he owed the
avowal of his mistress to insanity. It would have
been easy for such a one to frame insinuations, calculated
to damp the ardor of love, and perhaps to break
off the connection. All might have been so naturally
cloaked under a pretext of honorable motive, an unwillingness
to see him become the subject of such a sad
mistake, that could scarcely fail to render him afterwards
wretched, and consequently indignant towards
those, who allowed him to be led blindfold to the consummation.
Not so the noble minded Katrina. The physical
fervor of the veins touched not the internal spring of
truth and honor. Nature said to her, more than the
schools have learned to the many. She wiped the
tears away with her silken tresses; and her high purpose
was formed in a moment. Jessy, the beloved,
and pledged of Frederic, became from that circumstance
dearer to her thoughts, than ever. `Noble
young man, charming sister,' she reflected, `I shall always
be near you, and see you happy, if I may never
be so myself.' Jessy became thus invested with tenfold
claims upon her respect, delicacy and unsleeping
vigilance, to prevent her mental alienation from showing
in such forms, as to be calculated to inspire any
diminution of his love. She foresaw, that the declared
lover would have new claims to be with his mistress
during the attacks of these dreaded paroxysms;
and the difficulty of her task of concealment would be
increased.
The tenderness of her solicitude, her ever watchful
assiduity began to astonish, and almost annoy her
charge; as usual, unconscious herself, of what was obvious
to all about her. The transient gleam of a moment's
lucidness enlightened the patient to her own
condition, and the motive of the watchfulness, with
seeing her in her alienation. But, as in the midst of
horrible dreams, we sometimes comfort ourselves, that
the shadowy terrors, under which we suffer, are but a
dream, Jessy gladly escaped from these fearful intervals
of sanity, to the exhilaration of her excited hours;
and then, though not aware of her malady, she was
distinctly aware of the untiring vigilance of her Argus,
and her ingenuity in the invention of expedients,
to keep Frederic from visiting her state room. The
same cause, that had unsettled the balance of her admirable
intellect, had ruffled the sweetness of her
temper, and the uniform tenor of her equanimity.—
Her impatient earnestness, to see, and converse with
her lover, at length overcame her docility to this
duress. Somewhat sternly reprimanding Katrina's
officious exercise of authority, in refusing him admittance,
she begged, that herself might be allowed to
judge in the case, and refuse or admit his visits at
pleasure. `I am at a loss,' she said, `to divine the
motive of such an unauthorized assumption.' The
reply was a burst of tears, and these words, `thy sister
has not thy eloquence of expression, or she could
explain herself. I must endure, as I may, till I find
my apology in your own heart.' The sight of the
beautiful and generous Katrina in tears, at her harshness,
operated a revulsion of sanity, and a conviction
of her own cruelty. She folded her in her arms, and
they wept together. She then put her hand firmly
to her forehead, and asked, `is it not the first time,
sister of my heart, that I have been capricious and
cruel? Forgive me this once. I am sure, all is right
at my heart. But you will pity, and excuse all, when
I tell you I have an inexpressible apprehension, that
something is wrong here.' It was the first time, Katrina
had ever seen her in the light of asking forgiveness.
Accustomed to consider her, as an examplar
of which she was herself conscious, habituated to receive
her word with implicit docility, as a command—
love and pity, mingled with new emotions, presented
her with new associations of endearment. `Forgive
you, my dear sister?' she said. `Yes, and would have
you repeat the offence every day, if it would give me
a chance of feeling, that I love you more in your failings,
when you approach nearer to myself.' Hence-forward
this girl of heroic affection was perusing all
the medical books, that could be loaned on board,
while Jessy slept, in search of the symptoms, prevention,
and cure of mental diseases. All the efforts of
an untrained, but vigorous mind, were directed in the
channel of inventing expedients, to present the soothing
view and the sunny side of existence to her patient,
and to prolong to the utmost possible extent
the exhilarated and happy train of her feelings. The
schemer seeks not perpetual motion, or the mathematician
the square of the circle, with a more intent
application of all their powers, than she sought to acquaint
herself with the chain of ideas, which, she had
previously discovered, brought on the melancholy hallucination.
No physiologist could have reasoned to
better purpose, than did her nature taught mind, impelled
by the keen promptings of affection. As
though to reward her kind and intelligent efforts, a
lucid interval of three days ensued, days to the two
lovers apparently of the highest and most unalloyed
happiness, that earth could bestow. They talked
over their future plans, in presence of Katrina and
Elder Wood, and they wove all the splendid gossamer
webs, and they built all the high towers, and
painted in all the prismatic colors, the terrestrial
hopes fabricated in the imaginative warmth of the
hearts of youth and love.
When Frederic and Elder Wood retired to occupy
former remarked to the minister, in the emphatic
phrase of the bible, that he dared only to rejoice with
trembling. Naturally sanguine, and indisposed to
forebode evil, he began, for the first time, to feel himself
alarmed with indefinite apprehensions drawn from
human mutability. He felt, as if the present expansion
of heart, like the vibration of the pendulum, raised
too high on one side, would settle back to some
hidden alternation of sorrow. `Have I not warned
thee,' said the man of God, `that there is nothing, on
which to rest the affections, but God; nothing, that
should elevate, or depress the spirit, but eternity?'
On Jessy the excitement had produced, during her
happy intervals, a delightful kind of hectic ecstacy,
precisely that state of happy mental tension, in which
the mind can dictate those wonderful acts, which
transcend the ordinary compass of human experience
and credibility; and which fits it to triumph over fear
and death. Her eye sparkled with an unearthly
brightness. Her fancy painted every object as with
a pencil dipped in sunbeams. Her intellect showed
an action of preternatural vigor; and her expressions
had a mellow richness and felicity, as if dictated by
the same temperament and power which inspired the
English songstress of the heart, the unequalled Felicia
Hemans. A benevolence still more ardent, than that
which had formerly led her to go about, among the
Indian cabins, doing good, sought all possible objects
of manifestation, and colored every word and action.
Even for the hardy sailors, passing to their appropriate
tasks, she had some well timed salutation, some
remark implying affectionate interest, which won her,
along with her pre-eminent beauty, the universal good
will of all on board. Frederic, too, was of that kind,
frank and unsuspicious temperament, which naturally
begets popularity. The happy lovers were favorites
of approach to the human heart, should have noted
the deportment of these happy persons. Such might
easily, also, have become acquainted with the natural
reward of such manifestations of good feeling, by
hearing what was said of them by the congregated
groups of sailors at their mess, or their conversations.
The extravagant encomiums and hearty good wishes,
lavished upon them, expressed in the peculiar quaintness
and originality of the dialect of the sons of ocean,
would have convinced any one, that the most splendid
prospects and the most fortunate condition do not,
as some have supposed, necessarily generate envy.
Not a single circumstance, connected with this case
of mental alienation, imparted to it any association
either disagreeable or alarming. On the contrary,
the subject had never shown more attractive loveliness.
Something of unnecessary reserve was banished,
and a peculiar brightness of the eye and quickness
of manner indicated, that the internal movements
were exerted to an accelerated and wearing velocity.
In other respects, every word and action was so perfectly
fit, appropriate, and in keeping, and her whole
conversation and deportment imbued with so much
sense and heart, that her lover could hardly desire
that an excitement, which rendered her society so delightful,
should pass away. He delighted to yield
himself to the illusion, that the whole was the result
of painfully concealed love, now indulged in unrestrained
scope, diffusing itself in excited benevolence
and hilarity over a nature, the affections of which had
never before been aroused from their slumbers.—
There was, beside, over the whole, a sanctity of internal
propriety regulating every action. In short, it
was an excitement, that he could almost excuse himself
in wishing it might last forever.
The sun was descending for another of those delicious
the lone wastes of mid ocean, and with the fresh air
of that peculiar balmy influence, which is only felt on
the sea. Jessy was still cheerful, and had been enquiring
of the captain, in how many days they might
expect to land at Macoa? She retired to her state
room, to hear Katrina expatiate upon a theme of
equal interest, the virtues and attractions of Frederic,
a topic upon which the speaker dilated with but too
much earnestness of conviction. Her slender fingers
played with the glossy tresses of her patient; and, delighted
to witness the longest lucid interval that she
had yet had, since her alienation, she was tasking her
invention to array every possible view of gladness before
her, that she might so far break the morbid chain,
as to leave no fear of another assault. To this end
she was describing, from her own imagination, the
scenes and circumstances, in which, were she in her
place, she would deck the bride, the bridal bower and
abode.
While the subject was under that animated discussion
between the fair ones, which such themes naturally
excite in persons of their years and circumstances,
Frederic entered. They related to him the tenor
of the interrupted points at issue. `We will settle
it on the quarter deck, after tea, among us four,'
said Jessy, gaily rising, and giving her arm to Frederic,
as they were summoned to tea in the cabin.
Accordingly, after tea, the four friends assembled
on the quarter deck. `Pleasanter sky and stars never
canopied the ocean, nor softer breeze fanned the atmosphere,'
said Jessy; `nor lovelier spectators surveyed
the one and felt the other,' cried Frederic; `at
least than two of ours. One can hardly talk at such
a time and place, and in a position, like mine, except
in poetry. The muses love alternate strains. Let
us now, in that way, settle the question of your recent
made immutably fast. Let us imagine ourselves
landed. Let us thence suppose ourselves wafted, in
the delightful privacy of our cabin, over the immense
wastes of sea between China and my ever loved native
country. You have studied its geography quite
as attentively, as myself; and its physical and moral
advantages are equally well known to you as to me.
Where shall we select that spot, which shall be consecrated
by the sacred name our home? Shall it be,
where the orange and the fig ripen, and the jessamine
and the laurel pour their perfume in the bland climate
of the sunny south? Or will you prefer the wide
medial regions; or the industrious, municipal and
moral north, with its frequent white villages, and towering
spires? Or will we shelter under the spreading
beeches; or fix on the grassy plains of the west,
in its virgin freshness? Where shall be the ark of
our rest? Let it only be where there is plenty of
noble trees. For me, next to my few friends, I
love a fine tree more than most things else. Wakona,
thou art to me, on this subject, as on all, oracular;
speak thou, and I will hearken, as though I heard the
words of the Master of Life. To give thee freedom
to fix, be assured, that the shores of the arctic sea,
with thy presence and love, would bloom for me an
eternal Eden.'
He sat between the two fair girls. The moon
shone full and sweetly on the calm bosom of the sea.
The stars trembled as brightly in the cerulean depths,
as they twinkled in the air. They were perceptibly
nearing the land, for a voluptuous aromatic breeze fanned
their temples; and even Elder Wood seemed
aroused from his meditations by the rather extravagant
compliment, with which Frederic had closed.
Jessy arose, and threw her curls from her neck. She
bowed a kind of ironical acknowledgment. `This is
my worshipper cannot but go away accepted. Thou
hast paid thy homage to the oracle Wakona, for the
first time in thy life, in the beautiful phrase of the red
people. It befits thee to a charm; and it reminds me
of the soul of honor and truth, whose native language
thou hast adopted. But in this beautiful speech, thou
hast glozed a flattery, learned among thy own race;
and as thou well knowest, but too seducing. Well!
thou hast spoken in the flattering words of the pale
face; and I will answer thee in words as simple and
true, as though I were a maiden of the race of the
red people. Thou demandest of me, when we two
have sworn to be one, where we shall fix the ark of
our rest? Ah! if the dear Shoshonee vale were the
home of civilized men, and under the rule of laws!
Dear winding Sewasserna! Sublime sheltering
mountains! Beloved natal spot! Resting place of
the ashes of my parents, of the noble and magnanimous
Areskoui, who endured and died under the singleness
of one motive! Venerable Ellswatta, the
last of thy race, and Josepha, on whose maternal
breast I have so often reposed! Blue summits, that
have so often conducted my thoughts to God, I see
your rounded points stand forth in the air! Spring
formed torrents, I hear your deep discourse of music,
as you pour your brown waters into the dells below!
I feel your breeze rustling the first formed leaves of
spring; and mark its influences passing away, in the
eddying whirlwinds on the sides of the hills. I behold
the red bird starting away in song from the tangle.
There I have felt peace and repose, before this
bosom learned to swell with this new sensation. Ah!
had I the wand of power, to wave over the sleeping
dead; could I evoke them from the narrow house;
and had we there our good Elder Wood, and our
church, surmounted with its church going bell, and
that dear vale, secluded from the stormy passions,
from the hardening intercourse, the folly, vanity and
ambition of the world, there, of all places, I would
choose to fix the ark of our rest, and hope to renew
the scenes of Eden. These hearts, I know, are formed
for high and exquisite enjoyments. Thence we would
offer continually to heaven the incense of devout, benevolent
and satisfied hearts. There we would descend
the vale of years, without perceiving it; and a
stronger affection should spring up from intimate acquaintance
and the long communion of the offices of
love, and from moral relations of beauty, than any
compound of sentiment based upon the bloom and
freshness of youth. Thence, resigned, and cheerful
at the call of Him, who made us, dropping the manacles
of clay, we would soar away towards our father's
house, as the mist curls in its ethereal whiteness from
the mountain tops towards the morning sun. But
alas! we cannot awaken the sleepers, and that dear
spot may not be our home. For the rest, the world
is all before us. Wherever my dear Katrina, and
thou, and Elder Wood should choose to dwell, there
will be my chosen place of habitation.'
Whoever had noted her countenance, as the entranced
speaker uttered these words, would have seen
the indications of a mind already severed by sorrow
from its earthly ties, and about to take its last flight.
Katrina, trembling and pale with apprehension, as she
thrilled with the tones of her voice of unearthly music,
rose, and put her arm within hers, reminding her,
that her health was delicate, and that she feared the
evening air was too fresh and humid; and begged to
be allowed to lead her to their state room. `Not yet;
I have not a fear,' she replied. `Never have I felt
joyfulness, like that of this hour; and we may not
hope such long measures of satisfaction in this evanescent
as these in sleep, or the estranged sterility of heart in
our silent births. And, now I recollect, it is our accustomed
hour for better thoughts. I dash from my
imagination the associations of the senses. Elder
Wood, this is the wonted hour of prayer. There
soar the blue outer walls of our temple. The stars
look down from their high abodes of purity and light
upon us. I hear the footsteps of the bygone days returning
with gentle tread. Certainly the spirit of
prayer is upon us; and a felt inspiration from above
hovers over us. Thanks to our heavenly Father, my
ever dear parents, your weary daughter has returned
from her persecutions, and her far wanderings by land
and by sea; and we are once more united. Why
will you not embrace your long lost daughter? Well!
your hearts are too full. Father, thou art weary with
the idle and useless chase over those rugged hills.—
Repose on this soft seat, dear mother, beside the
daughter that loves thee even as herself. Ellswatta
and Josepha, come in. Areskoui, thy noble heart is
not all pagan; and thou too shalt sing with me the
praises of Jesus above the stars. What a blessed
union, after such a long and terrible separation! Elder
Wood, there is the book of God. We are all ready.
Now recite that sweet hymn.
There was a solemn pause, in which each of the
three listeners suppressed the sigh, that rose involuntarily
in their palpitating bosoms. But prayer and
praise seemed the natural balm for the visible malady
of the interesting sufferer. Katrina trembled beyond
the power of speech; and Frederic and Elder Wood
more distinctly perceived the extent of the misfortune,
than they had ever before. But she was eloquent;
and she was calm, and apparently triumphant
in her joy. The moon fell upon a face, which, as
Elder Wood afterwards said, shone like that of an
sweetness and method in her madness, that they could
hardly have desired to call her down from her heights
of inspiration to the common place and obtuse sanity
of worldly discretion, and the measured prudence of
a speech, the source of which is no deeper than the
lips. All were awe-struck, and still, as the minister
read an appropriate portion from the scriptures, and
then gave out
Thou joy and desire of my heart,
For closer communion I pine;
I long to reside where thou art.
That pasture I languish to find,
Where all, who their Shepherd obey,
Are fed, on thy bosom reclined,
And screen'd from the heat of the day.
though undisciplined genius, and capable of the profoundest
feeling. This prayer might be fitly termed
wrestling with God. Precisely those words sprang
to his lips, and they were invested with the tone and
the pathos, which the occasion demanded. It was
one of those impressive seasons, when right words
carry a thrill of unutterable feeling through the frame.
As though the Author of Nature had accorded an
answer of peace to these earnest prayers on the great
deep, the breeze which freshened a moment before,
had lulled to a dead calm; and the ship seemed as
still as if anchored on the unfathomable waters. The
joyful cry land! land! was heard from the shrouds;
and the mingled perfumes from the flowers of that
near and sunny shore floated on their senses an atmosphere
of aroma. Jessy sat perfectly composed,
looking upon the unruffled mirror, sparkling with stars.
Katrina arose. `Gentlemen,' she said, `it is late.—
We need rest to prepare us for the bustle of landing
It is high time for her to retire. You must
give the example; for, while you sit there, we are reluctant
to retire to our births.' `She is right,' replied
Jessy calmly. She shook hands with Frederic,
saying cheerfully bon soir, mon ami; et demain nous
serons en joie. She sat at the moment, in her wonted position,
as they retired, leaning against the taffrail, alternately
casting her eyes from the stars above to the
depths below, in which the firmament was beautifully
repainted. She complained of thirst; and requested
Katrina to follow the gentlemen, and order her a glass
of water, in a tone of such perfect composure, as left
the affectionate girl joyfully assured, that her paroxysm
had passed away. In three minutes she returned
with the water. Jessy had disappeared. A
single piercing scream brought the ship's company on
deck. Katrina had fallen, fainting.
To attempt to describe the scene that ensued, would
be equally painful and hopeless. Lamps, candles,
pitch, and splinters of the pitch pine were kindled in
a moment, and threw a portentous glare upon the calm
cerulean—and the ship would have shown at a distance,
as in a conflagration. Coops, casks, planks
were thrown overboard. Ropes and boats were lowered
down. Every person on board, who could swim,
was in the water. Frederic was among them, diving
to such a depth, and remaining so long beneath the
water, that when he rose, the blood gushed from his
nostrils. When Katrina recovered from her first faintness,
it was to utter such agonizing shrieks, to save
her sister, as chilled the heart. Elder Wood was at
first transported utterly beyond the precept and habit
of Christian submission and endurance. `My daughter!
My dear lost daughter,' he cried. `I could have
borne every thing, but this.' Old, and unused to
swimming as he was, he escaped from the friends, who
Not a breath ruffled the mirror surface, that showed
of transparent purple. Twenty persons were diving
in the depths, through which the eye traced the cones
of light, from the glare on board, in all directions from
the ship, to almost fathomless distances. Innumerable
fishes were pursuing their ocean play, as though
it were no concern of theirs, that a fair maiden had
gone down breathless to their deepest retreats. The
white anemonies, like numberless shooting stars in
the water, were performing their quick contractions
and expansions in their uninterrupted sports. A mote
might be traced in the pale green element at immense
depths.
It was in vain, that Katrina continued to cry, `oh!
save my sister,' as though her heart were bursting.
It was in vain, that Elder Wood, taken up in a boat,
when well nigh drowned, groaned, and scattered his
hairs into the sea, exclaiming, `all else I could have
borne.' It was in vain, that Frederic exhausted himself
in ineffectual struggles, to force the mysterious
element to give up its dead. It was to no use, that
he made spasmodic efforts to escape from his kind
keepers, that he might spring overboard again. It
was in vain, that the heart-rending cry arose from
various points, find her! oh! find her. Mark where
she rises! To whatever extent the vision of the
swimmers could extend through the pellucid element,
her brilliant eye, glistening through the wave, her
glossy tresses floating from her neck, her beautiful
form—were no where to be seen. The voice of
music was mute. The heart of unutterable tenderness
had imparted its warmth to the waters. She
had gone down beyond the power of imagination to
follow, or find her. All further hope of renewed
communion with the loved and lost must now rest on
the resurrection morning. Two hours had been spent
arose from the direction of the sea. However the
agonized friends of the lost one wished still to linger
on the fatal spot, there was no anchorage, and the
ship was rapidly driven towards the shore.
It may be supposed, that her birth, trunks and
cabinet were searched, to discover whether she had
left any written indication of her feelings and purposes.
She had been observed writing the day before
this disaster. That writing was found in her
cabinet to this effect. `Merciful God! if it be possible,
let the cup of insanity pass from me! Is it truth
or illusion, that I see the dear valley, my loved parents,
the young chief, my natal spot, all distinct in
the sea? I feel my hands, and close my eyes, and
look again. It must be real. There are the same
dear images; and now they move, and hold out their
arms to me, and chide me, that I come not. Oh God!
sendest thou these illusions, to manifest thy frown
upon this uniou? Thou art righteous and terrible in
thus declaring that this long cherished love is a
guilty one. I cruelly compelled the young chief to
quench his noble spirit in a watery grave. Be it so.
Let me make all possible reparation. I am now
alone with God and my conscience. And should I
lose my reason, I bequeath all my wordly substance,
of which disposition is not already made, to Katrina,
the orphan sister of my heart, hoping that all the
wishes of her innocent bosom may be gratified. I
charge her on the care of Elder Wood. She will
not fail to bestow right portions of it on her guardian
and father. Frederic! Yes. If it be a guilty sentiment,
in presence of God, I tear it from my heart;
and if it may be, bequeath her his love. Should this
be my last act of a sound mind, those who come after
me, will consider this my last will and testament.
Jessy Yensi Weldon.'
The ship anchored next morning in the harbor,
where it remained but for a few days. Frederic was
seen for the most part sitting on the cliffs alone, looking
stedfastly in the direction, where the lost one had
left him. During this stay, he prepared the following
epitaph for her ocean grave:
Down the green depths of ocean's bed.
The restless surge, with refluent moan,
Rolls noiseless o'er her peaceful head,
As with its dark, unceasing tide
The sweeping waters onward glide.
She has no marble monument;
She wants no stone, with graven lie,
To tell of love and virtue blent
In one, who seem'd too good to die.
We shall not need such useless trace,
To point us to her resting place.
The mariner, as gliding by,
May see, indeed, no mark, from whence
To learn, that he is wafting nigh
The sleeping corse of innocence.
But by one heart that ocean spot
In death alone will be forgot.
All, that is known further of these wanderers, is,
that the father of Julius was found to have deceased.
The mother conversed with Elder Wood and Frederic,
and perused the document from her son. A
satisfactory arrangement of all secular interests was
speedily accomplished through the agency of Elder
Wood, in whose mind duty was always the prevalent
idea. Frederic appeared perfectly reckless, in regard
to the opulence, which had thus visited him unsought.
They shortly afterwards sailed from Canton
for the United States, in the ship Pacific. That ship
was spoken off Callao by the ship Mentor, both in a dead
calm. Visits, as usual, were interchanged between
the ships. The captain of the latter ship arrived first
in the United States; and, among his letters to his
friends, was one, which, with other matters, contained
that the appearance of the three Shoshonee emigrants
had a striking interest even for passing and disinterested
spectators.
`We supped in the cabin of the Pacific. A venerble
looking man, dressed as a minister, with gray
locks floating on his shoulders, led to the table the
most beautiful girl, I had ever seen. Beside her
was a fine looking young gentleman, who might have
been her brother or her lover. They were all three
in deep mourning. As they came to the table, the
previous gaiety and loud talking was instantly hushed,
and each one spoke under his breath. I know not,
but it might have been the grief in the countenance
of this lovely girl, and the interesting young man,
that struck us so much. But I have not been introduced
to persons who left such a vivid impression
upon my memory. After they retired, I failed not
to ask their history. I give the following particulars,
as I received them.
`They had been among the Shoshonee, in the interior
of the country on the Oregon, where they had
lived, and met horrible disasters. They took passage
to China. They spoke with awe, and never without
tears, of a young lady who had been one of their
number. They represented her, as lovely and interesting,
in terms of gloomy enthusiasm. The young
gentleman was to have married her. In a state of
derangement from religious melancholy, she threw
herself overboard. It was wonderful, that two such
splendid young persons, as rich as India merchants,
should keep up mourning and look dismal so long.
There was said to be, however, a strange sacredness
in their privacy, and a something in their manners,
which had wonderfully conciliated the attachment
and respect of their fellow passengers.
`I can hardly account for the uncommon interest,
which I took myself in these interesting people. At
any rate, the young lady need have no fears, if she
once arrives safe in America. Forgive these extra
memoranda. My next shall be on matters of
business.'
| CHAPTER XII. The Shoshonee Valley | |