University of Virginia Library

18. XVII.
THE NARRATIVE OF LE BARBU:
THE BEARDED MAN OF CALOS.

Now when Barbu, the bearded man, who had been dwelling
among the people of Calos, had been shorn of the long and matted
hair and beard, which had made him much more fearful to the
eye than any among the savages themselves,—and when our right
worthy captain had commanded that we should bathe and cleanse
him, and had given him shirts of fine linen and clothes from his own
wardrobe, so that he should once more appear like a Christian man
among his kindred,—albeit he seemed to be greatly disquieted, and
exceedingly awkward therein,—then did he conduct him into the
corps de garde, where our people were all bidden to assemble.
There, being seated all, Barbu, the Spaniard, being entreated thereto
by our right worthy captain, proceeded to unfold the full relation of
the grievous strait and peril by which he had fallen into the power
of King Calos, and of what happened to him thereafter. And it
was curious to see how that he, a Spaniard born, and not illeducated
in one of the goodly towns of old Spain, in all gentle
learning, should, in the space of fifteen years sojourn among the
savages, have so greatly suffered the loss of his native tongue.
Slow was he of speech, and greatly minded to piece out with the

Indian language the many words in which the memory of his own
had failed him. Well was it for our understanding of what he
delivered, that so many of us had been dwelling among the red-men
at other times,—to speak nothing of Monsieur D'Erlach,
Monsieur Ottigny, both lieutenants in the garrison, and Monsieur
La Roche Ferriere, who, with another, by special commandment
of our captain, had dwelt for a matter of several months among
the people of King Olata Utina. By means of the help brought
by these, we were enabled to find the meaning of those words in
which Barbu failed in his Spanish. So it was that we followed
the fortunes of the bearded man, according to the narrative as here
set down.

Then, at the repeated entreaty of Monsieur Laudonniere,
Barbu arose and spoke:

“First, Señor Captain, I have to declare how much I thank
you for the protection you have given me, the kindness which has
clad me once more in Christian garments, and the cost and travail
with which you have recovered me from my bonds among the
heathen. Albeit, that I feel strangely in these new habits, and
that my native tongue comes back to me slowly when I would
speak from a full and overflowing heart, yet will I strive to make
you sensible of all the facts in my sad history, and of the great
gratitude which I feel for those by whose benevolence I may fondly
hope that my troubles are about to end. I know not now the day
or season when we left the port of Nombre de Dios, in an excellent
ship, well filled with treasures of the mine, and a goodly company,
on our return to the land of our fathers beyond the sea. My own
share in the wealth of this vessel was considerable, and I had
other treasures in the person of a dear brother, and a sister who

accompanied us. Our sister was married to one who was with us
also, and the united wealth of the three, such was our fond expectations,
would enable us to retire to our native town of Burgos,
and commend us to the favor of our people. But it was written
that we should not realize these blessed expectations, and that I
alone, of the four, should be again permitted to dwell among a
Christian people. Yet I give not up the hope that I shall yet
see my brother, who was carried away among the Indians of the
far west, when we were scattered among the tribes, in the
grand division of our captives. But this part of my story comes
properly hereafter.

“We put to sea from the port of Nombre de Dios with
very favoring winds; but these lasted us not long, ere they
came out from all quarters of the heavens, and we ran before the
storm under a rag of sail, without knowing in what course
we sped. Thus, for three days, we were driven before the baffling
winds; and when the storm lulled, the clouds still hung about us,
and our pilot wot nothing of that part of the sea in which we
went. Two days more followed, and still we were saddened
by the clouds that kept evermore coming down from heaven,
and brooding upon the deep like great fogs that gather in
the morn among the mountains. Thus we sped, weary and desponding
as we were, without any certainty as to the course we
kept, or the region of space or country round about us. Meanwhile,
the seams of our vessel began to yawn, and great was the
labor which followed, to all hands, to keep her clear of water.
This we did not wholly; and it was in vain that our carpenter
sought for, in order to stop, the leak. Thus, weary and sad, we
continued still sweeping forward slowly, looking anxiously, with
many prayers, for the sun by day and the moon and stars by

night. But the Blessed Virgin was implored in vain. We had
offended. There was treasure on board the vessel, but it was
stained with blood. You have not heard in your histories of the
bloody Juan de Mores y Silva, who tortured the unhappy
Mexicans by fire, even in the caverns where they resided, seeking
the gold, which they gained not sufficiently soon, or in sufficient
quantity, to satisfy his cruel lust for wealth. He was one of our
companions on this voyage, bound homewards with an immense
subsidy in ingots—huge chests of gold and silver—with which he
aimed to swell into grandeur with new titles, when he arrived in
Spain. But the just Providence willed it otherwise. He was,
doubtless, the Jonah in our vessel, who fought against the prayers
for mercy and protection which the true believers addressed to
the Holy Virgin in our behalf.”

Here our captain, Laudonniere, interrupted Barbu, and said—

“Verily, Señor Spaniard, had thy prayer been addressed to
God himself, the Father, through the intervention and the mediation
of the Blessed Saviour, his Son, whose blood was shed for sinners,
it might have better profited thy case. Thy prayers to the
Virgin were an unseemly elevation of a mortal woman over the
divinity of the Godhead. But I will not vex thee with disputation.
Thou art a Christian, though it is after a fashion which, to
me seems scarcely more becoming than that of these poor savages
of Calos, who yield faith, as thou tellest me, to the spells and
enchantments of their bloody sovereign. But, proceed with thy
story, which I shall be slow to break in upon again until thou art
well ended.”

With the permission thus vouchsafed him, Barbu, the bearded
man, thus resumed his discourse:

“We plead for the interposition of the Virgin, Monsieur le

Capitaine, not as we deem her the source of power and of mercy,
but as we hold it irreverent to rush even with our prayers to the
feet of the awful Father himself; and rejoice to believe that she
who was specially chosen, as one who should bear the burden of
the Saviour-child, was of a spirit properly sanctified and pure for
such purposes of interposition. But, as thou sayest, we will leave
this matter. If we offend in our rites and offices, it is because
we err in judgment, and not that our hearts wish to afflict the
feelings or the thoughts of those who see with other eyes
the truth. Besides, my long and outlandish abode among the
red-men, might well excuse me many errors.”

“And so, indeed, it might, Señor Spaniard,” said Laudonniere
graciously; then, as the latter remained silent, Barbu continued:

“Doubtless, Señor, as I said before, the bloody Juan de Mores
y Silva, was the Jonah of our vessel, on whose account the
Blessed Providence turned a deaf ear to our prayers and entreaties.
It was not decreed that he should escape to rejoice in his
ill-gotten treasure; and his fortunes were so mixed up with ours,
that the overthrow of one was necessarily at the grievous loss and
peril of us all. How many days we lay tossing on the tumultuous
waves, or swept to and fro, beaten and sore distressed by the violent
and changeful winds, I do not now remember, but it was in
very sickness and hopelessness of heart, that we lay down at night
as one lies down and submits to a power with which he feels himself
wholly powerless to contend. Thus did we cast ourselves
down—as the dreary shades of night came over us, with a deeper
and drearier cloud than ever,—not seeking sleep, but seized upon by
it, as it were, to save us from the suffering, akin to madness, which
must haply follow upon our fearful waking thoughts. While we slept,
our vessel struck upon the low flats of the Martyrs — those shoals

which have laid bare the ribs of so many goodly and gold-laden
ships of my countrymen, sucking down their brave hearts and all
their treasures in the deep. We were lifted high by the surges,
and rested, beyond recovery, upon the shoals, from which the remorseless
seas refused again to lift us off. Our vessel lay upon
one side, and the greedy waves rushed into her hold. We were
stunned rather than awakened by the shock. We strove not for
safety or repair. How many perished in the moment when the
ship fell over I know not, but one of these was the husband of my
sister. He was drowned in the first rush of the billows into the
ship, though, as it was night, we knew it not. My sister had
thrown herself beside my brother, and was sleeping upon his arm.
She was the first to learn her misfortune, awaking, as she averred,
to hear the faint cries of her lord for succor, though she knew not
whence the sounds arose. When our eyes opened upon the scene,
strange to say, the clouds had disappeared. The dark waves
of the tempest had sped away to other regions. A gentle
breeze from the land had arisen, full of sweet fragrance and a
healing freshness, and, bright over head, in the blessed heavens,
blossomed fresh the eternal host of the stars. Oh! the life and
soothing in that smile of God. But we were not strong for the
blessing, nor sufficiently grateful that life was still vouchsafed us.
The day dawned upon us to increase our wretchedness. It left
us without hope. Our food was ruined by the waves that filled
the vessel, and though the land was spread before us in a lengthened
stripe, bearing forests which were surely full of fragrance,
we beheld not the means by which we should gain its pleasant
shores with safety. Our boats had perished in the surf; one of
them stove to pieces, and the other swept away. In our despondency
and our sleep we had yielded our courage and our providence,
and we lay now in the sight of heaven, amidst the equal
realm of sea and sky, with the land spreading lovelily before us,
yet could we do nothing for ourselves. We lay without food or
drink all day, seeing nothing but the bare skies, the sea, and the
shore, which only mocked our eyes. My sister sorrowed and
sickened in my arms. She cried for water as one cries in the
delirious agonies of fever. She would drink of the water of the
deep, but this we denied her; and the day sunk again, and with it
her hope and strength. With the increase of the winds that
night, she grew delirious; and, when we knew not—and this was
strange, for I cannot believe that I closed mine eyes that night—
she disappeared. Once, it seemed that I heard her voice, in a
wild scream, calling me by name, and I started forward to feel
that she was gone. She left my arms while I lay insensible. It
was not sleep. It was stupor. My consciousness was drowned
in my great grief, and in the exhaustion of all my strength for
lack of food.

“My brother and myself alone survived of all our family.
With the knowledge that our sister was really gone—swallowed
up, doubtless, in the remorseless deep, into which she had darted
in her delirium—we came to a full consciousness. Then, when
it was only misery to know, we were permitted to know all, and
to feel the whole terrible truth pressing upon us, that we were
alone in that dreary world of sea. Not alone of our company;
only of our people. Many there were who still kept in life,
watchful but hopeless. We could see their dusky forms by the
faint light of the stars, crouching along the slanting plane of the
vessel, upon which, by cord, and sail, and spar, we still contrived
to maintain foothold; and, anon, our company would lessen.
The solemn silence of all things, except the dash of the waves

against us, rolling up with murmurs, and breaking away in wrath,
was interrupted only by a sullen plunge, ever and anon, into the
engulphing deep, as the hope went out utterly in the heart of the
victim, and he yielded to death, rather than prolong the wretched
endurance of a life so full of misery.

“Thus the night passed; not without other signs to cheer as
well as startle us. Through the darkness we could see lights in
the direction of the shore, as if borne by human hands. With
the dawn of day, our eyes were turned eagerly in that direction.
Nor did we look in vain. The shore swarmed with human forms.
A hundred canoes were already darting along the margin of the
great deep, and evident were the preparations of the people of
this wild region, to visit our stranded vessel. In a little time
they came. Their canoes were some of them large enough to
carry forty warriors, though made from a single tree. They
came to us in order of battle; a hundred boats, holding each
from ten to fifty warriors. These carried spear and shield, huge
lances, and well-curved bows, drawn with powerful sinews of the
deer. Their arrows were long shafts of the feathery reed, such
as flourish in all these forests. The feather from the eagle's wing
gave it buoyancy, and the end of the shaft was barbed with a
keen flint, wrought by art to an edge such as our best workmen
give to steel. Many were the chief men among these warriors,
who approached us in full panoply of barbaric pomp. Turbans
of white and crimson-stained cotton, such as the Turk is shown
to wear, though folded in a still nobler fashion, were wrapped
about their heads, over which shook bunches of plumes taken
from the paroquet, the crane, and the eagle. Robes of cotton,
white, or crimson, or scarlet, colored with native dies of the
forest, clothed their loins, and fell flowing from their shoulders;

and, ever and anon, as they came, they shook a thousand gourds
which they had made to rattle with little pebbles, which, with their
huge drum, wrought of the mammoth gourd, and covered with
raw deer skin, made a clamor most astounding to our hapless
ears. Thus they hailed our vessel, making it appear as if they
intended to have fought us; but when they beheld how famishing
we lay before them, with scarcely strength and courage enough to
plead for mercy—speaking only through our dry and scalded eyes,
and by clasping our hard and weary hands together—then it
seemed as if they at once understood and felt for us; and they
drew nigh with their canoes, and lowered their weapons, and
darting with lithe sinews upon the sides of our leaning vessel,
they held gourds of water to our lips, which cheered us while we
swallowed, as with the sense of a fresh existence.

“Thus were we rescued from the yawning deep. The savages
took us, with a rough kindness, from the wreck. They carried
us in their canoes to the shore; and several were the survivors,
as well women as men. They gave us food and
nourishment, and when we were refreshed and strengthened, they
separated us from our comrades, sharing us among our captors,
each according to his rank, his power, or his favor with his sovereign.
Seventeen of our poor Christians were thus scattered
among the tribes and over the territories of the king of Calos.
Some were kept in his household; but my hapless brother was
not among them. He was given to a chief of the far tribes of
the West, who made instant preparation to depart with him.
When they would have borne us apart, with a swift bound and a
common instinct, we buried ourselves in a mutual embrace. The
chiefs looked on with a laugh that made us shudder; while he to
whom my brother was given, with a savage growl, thrust his hands

into the flowing locks of my brother, and hurled him away to the
grasp of those who stood in waiting for the captive. He struggled
once more to embrace me, and long after I could hear his cry—
`Brother, brother, shall we see each other never more!' They
heeded not his cries or struggles, or mine. They threw him to
the ground with violence, bound him hand and foot, with gyves of
the forest, and placing him in one of their great canoes, they sped
away with him along the shores, as they treated to the mighty
West, where roll the great waters of the Mechachebe.

“Thus was I separated from my only surviving kinsman; and
neither of us could tell the fate which was in waiting for the
other. Verily, then did I look to find the worst. I no longer
had a hope. It is my shame, as a Christian, that, in that desolate
moment, I ceased to have a fear. I not only expected death,
but I longed for it. I could have kissed the friendly hand that
had driven the heavy stone hatchet of the savage into my brain.
But, the Blessed Mother of God be praised, I thought not, in my
despair, to do violence to my own self. That sin was spared me
among my many sins, in that hour of despondency and woe; and
all my crime consisted in the criminal indifference which made
me too little heedful to preserve life. But this indifference lasted
not long. I was the captive of the king of Calos himself. Nine
others were kept by him including me, and among these was the
cruel tyrant upon whose head lay the blood of so many of the
wretched people of Mexico, Don Juan de Mores y Silva. He
was the tyrant no longer. All his strength and courage had departed
in his afflictions; and in the hour of our despair and terror,
he was feebler than the meanest among us; feebler of soul than
the girl whose heart beats with the dread that she cannot name,
fearfully, as that of the little bird which you cover with your

hand. We loathed him the worse for his miserable fear; and it
made us all more resolute in courage to see one so cast down with
his terrors, whom we had seen of late so insolent in his triumphs.

“When the lots were determined, the king of Calos drew nigh to
examine us more heedfully. He had not before regarded us with
any consideration. Verily, he was a noble savage to the eye.
His person was tall, like one of the sons of Anak, and his carriage
was that of a great warrior, born a prince, to whom it was
natural equally to conquer and to rule. Rich were the garments
of flowing cotton which he wore loosely, like a robe, mostly white,
but with broad stains of crimson about the skirts and shoulders.

“A great baldrick hung suspended at his back, which bore a
quiver, made of the skin of the rattle-snake, filled with arrows,
each shaft better than a cloth-yard's length. The macana which
he carried in his grasp, was a mighty club of hard wood, close in
grain, and weighty as stone, which, save at the grasp or handle,
was studded with sharp blades of flint, which resembled it to the
mighty blade of the sword-fish. With this weapon mine eyes
have seen him smite down two powerful enemies at a single
stroke. Great was his forehead and high, and his cheek bones
stood forth like knots upon his face, as if the cheeks were
guarded by a shield. Black was his piercing eye, which grew
red and fiery when he was angered; and, at such seasons, it was
easier for him to smite than to speak. Unlike his people, he
wore the natural growth of his hair, long and flowing straight
adown his back, glossy with its original blackness, and with the
oil of the bear, of which, like all his people, the lord of Calos
made plentiful use. This king might be full forty years of age.
Yet looked he neither young nor old—neither so young that you
might not hold him the gravest and best counsellor of wisdom in

the land, nor so old, but that he might better and more ingeniously
lead in battle than any of his warriors. Certes, he was the most
ready first to march when the invasion of the distant tribes had
been resolved on; and, of a truth, never was statesman in the
great courts of Europe—not the counsellors of the great Carlos
himself—so cool in speculation, so just in judgment, so heedful to
consider all the advantages and all the risks of an enterprise,
before the first step was set down in the adoption of a policy. For
seven years had I sufficient means, in the immediate service of his
household, to watch the courses of his thoughts and character, and
to know the virtues and the strength thereof. I saw him devise
among his chiefs, and inform them with his own devices. I have
seen him lead in battle, when all the plans were his own, and it
was his equal teaching and valiancy by which the field was won.
Verily, I say that this lord of Calos were a prince to mate with
the best in Europe; and, but that we have in European warfare
such engines of mischief as come not within the use or knowledge
of his race, it were difficult to circumvent him in stratagem, or
overcome his braves in battle. With an hundred shot—no less—
and employing at the same time all the red-men as allies, who
are hostile to this king of Calos—and they are many—and I
doubt not Monsieur Laudonniere, but that you could penetrate
his dominions and make the conquest thereof. But of him could
you make no conquest. He is a warrior of the proudest stomach,
who would rather perish than lose the victory; and who, most
surely, would never survive the overthrow of his dominion.

“Me, did this great king examine with more curious eyes
than he bestowed upon the other captives. I know not for what
reason, unless because of the superior size and strength which I
possess, and the extreme length and thickness of my beard and

hair, of which, as a Christian man, I have always made too much
account. All of us did he assign to labor; to the gathering of
wood, and work in the maize fields, with the women. By-and-by,
there came a preference for me beyond the others. I was
brought into the king's household, and barbed his arrows, and
wrought upon his great macanas, and strove, among the Indians,
in hewing out his canoes from the cypress, first burning out the
greater core with fire. But when harvest time came, a great
festivity was held among the savages. Bitter roots were gathered
in the woods, and great vessels of the beverage which was made
thereof, was placed within the council or round house of the nation.
Thither did the chiefs resort and drink; and ever as they drank
they danced, though the liquor wrought upon them like a guardiente
with the European, and moved them even as the most violent
of emetic medicines. Still danced they, and still they danced for
the space of three whole days.—But the lord of Calos seemed not
to mingle at this strange festival. He purposed rites still more
strange—rites, which even now, I think upon with horror only.
He had a dwelling to himself in the deep woods, whither he retired
the night before the day when the great feast of the nation
was to begin. Here he waited all the night, watching with reverence
and patience the burning of a strange fire which had been
wrought of many curious and fragrant herbs and roots. Three of
the ancient people, the priests or Iawas, as they style themselves,
retired with him to build this fire, which, when it began to burn,
placing in store a sufficient supply of aromatic fuel that he
might feed it still, they left him, with strange exorcising, to himself.
And there he kept watch throughout the night. But
early with the next morning he came forth, and he sprinkled the
ashes of the fire upon the maize field, and he cried thrice, with a
loud voice, of Yo-he-wah, which, I believe to mean the sacred
name as known among the red-men. With each cry, as our poor
Spaniards, myself among them, were gathering the green ears
from the maize stalks, the priests who followed the king of Calos,
seized bodily upon three of our brethren, taking us by surprise,
and putting us all in a quaking fear. These three were all
brought before the lord of Calos, who, not looking upon them
as they lay bound at his feet, threw yet another vessel of sacred
ashes into the air, and as these three Spaniards lay separate, with
their faces looking up, I beheld the ashes sink immediately upon
the breast of him whom I have already named to you—the Jonas
by whom our vessel was doomed to wreck—the cruel Don Juan
de Mores y Silva. Now, though the king surely looked not as he
threw the ashes into the air, yet did it descend upon the breast of
this said Spaniard, as certainly as if the eye and arm of this lord
had been upon this particular person at the moment when he
threw. Verily, though I know not well how it should be—being
counselled by Holy Church against such belief—yet, verily, had
this lord of Calos certain powers which did seem to justify the
saying among his people, that he was a master of magic and of
arts superior to those of common men.

“Now, when the Iawas, or priests, beheld where the ashes
fell, they seized incontinently upon the Spaniard aforesaid. They
bore him away from us, wondering and fearing all the while.
But those who remained loosed the other two who had been
bound, and they were set free with the rest, to pursue their
labors in the corn-field. But we were not let to know the awful
fate which befel the Spaniard who was taken. Verily, he saw his
danger in the moment when the ashes lighted on his breast. His
face was whiter than the blossom of the dogwood when it first

opens to the spring. His eye glared, and his lip quivered like a
leaf in the gusts of March, though nothing he spake at anything
they did to him. But when they bore him away from our eyes,
then a terrible fear and agony caused him to cry aloud—`Oh!
my countrymen, will you not save me from the bloody savage!' I
cannot soon forget that cry, which was clearly that of a person
who beholds his doom. But of what avail? We had not the
people, nor the strength, nor the weapons! A thousand savages
danced wildly around the council-house, and the fields were full of
these who came to drink and dance. Besides, we thought not of
any danger but our own. We knew not how soon the fate was
to befal us; for had it not seized upon Don Juan without a
warning or a sign.

“They bore him to the secret tabernacle in the woods, where
the lord of Calos watched alone. We saw not then, but afterwards
we knew, what had been his fate. There they laid him
upon a great mound of earth, with the sacred fire burning at his
head in a large vessel of baked clay, formed with a nice art by
the savages, and painted with the mystic figure of a bloody hand.
The garments which he wore were taken off, and his limbs were
fastened separately to great stakes driven in places about the
mound. Thus were his hands and legs, his body and his very
neck made fast, so that whatever might be the deed done upon
him, he could oppose it not even in the smallest measure. But it
was permitted him to cry aloud—and those of us who stole into
the woods seeking to hear,—with a terrible curiosity which our
very apprehensions fed,—we heard,—we heard,—and even as the
awful scream of our late companion came piercing through the
woods upon our ears,—we fled afar from the sound, which was
that of a mortal agony and anguish. And, verily, the torture to

which he was doomed was that which might well compel the poor
outraged heart of humanity to cry aloud. With a keen knife,
and the hand of one who had practised long at the cruel rite, the
lord of Calos laid bare the breast of the victim, he not able to
struggle even,—only to shriek,—he laid it bare as one peels the
ripe fruit, and exposes the precious heart thereof! Even this did
the lord of Calos. He stripped the skin from the breast of his
victim, then, with sharp strokes, he smote away the flesh, until
the quaking ribs lay bare to his point. With a sharp stone chisel
he smote the breast-bone asunder, lifted the ribs, and tore away
the smoking heart, which he cast, reeking red, into the burning
fire of odorous woods and herbs, which then flamed up and
brightened in the dark chamber, as if fed with some ichorous
fuel. In that terrible agony, when the soul and the human life
were thus rudely torn apart from the mutual embrace, it was told
me by the lord of Calos, himself, that the victim burst one of the
wythes that bound him, and freed his right hand, which he waved
violently thrice, even while his murderer was plucking his heart
away from its quivering fastenings! Oh! the horror, though for
a moment only, of that awful consciousness! Verily, my friends,
if the lord of Calos did possess a power of magic such as his people
affirm, verily, I say, he paid a terrible price to the eternal
hater of human souls, when he gat from him his perditious
privilege!

“But the sufferings of that wretched victim, who then and thus
perished, were they greater than those which followed our footsteps,—we,
the survivors,—haunting us by night and day, with
the mortal terrors of a fear that such must be our doom also?
Every rustle of an approaching footstep among the maize-stalks
where we toiled, breaking the stems and gathering the ripened

ears, seemed to our woe-stricken souls, as the step of one who
came as an executioner; while we labored in the gloomy thicket,
gathering fuel for the winter fires, the same fear was hanging over
us with a threat of the impending doom. We lived and slept in
a continual dread of death, which made the hair whiten on every
brow, even of the youngest, before that terrible winter was gone
over.

“To us it was assigned to put away the body of our murdered
comrade. But this was only after the three days of the feast was
elapsed, and when the duty was tenfold distressing. Still, though
all our senses revolted at the task, a fearful curiosity compelled a
close examination of the victim. Then it was that we saw how
the execution had been done, though we knew not then, nor until
some time after, that the cell which enshrined and kept the heart
had been torn open, and the sacred possession wrenched away with
violent hands, even while the wretched victim had eyes to see, as
well as sensibilities to feel, the sacrilegious and bloody theft. We
bore the body far into the woods, wrapping it with leaves so as to
hide it from our eyes, while we carried it in the bottom of an old
canoe which we found for this purpose. Our burial was conducted
after the fashion of the red-men. We laid the corse of our comrade
upon a bed of leaves on the naked earth, and laid heavy fragments
of pine and other combustible wood about him. With this
we made a great pile, which we set on fire, and let to burn until
everything was consumed. We then, with sad, sorrowing, and
trembling hearts, returned, each one of us, in a mournful silence
that wist not what to say, to our separate tasks, and the places
which had been assigned us.

“Now, many months had passed in this manner, and still I
was employed about the king's household. This lord of Calos

distinguished me, as I have said, beyond my comrades. I had
a great vigor of limb which is not common among this people,
except in so much as it moves them to great agility. They are
rather light, swift and expert, than powerful in war; and trust
rather to great cunning than superior strength, in the meeting
with their enemies. The king of Calos greatly admired to see me
lift heavy logs of timber, such as would have borne down any
among his people if laid upon his shoulders. But he himself had
a strength superior to his people, and he wondered even more
when, striving to lift the logs which I laid down, he found it beyond
his mastery. Then, he put his bow into my hand, and
giving me a cloth-yard shaft of reed, well tipped with a flinty
barb, and dressed with an eagle's feather, he bade me draw it to
the head, and send it as I would. Upon which, doing so, he
greatly wondered to see how rapid and distant was the flight, for
well he knew that the ability to shoot the arrow far comes rather
from sleight than from strength, and is an art that only grows
from practice. But this, perhaps, had not fully given me to the
confidence of the king, had it not been for a service which I rendered
on one occasion to his favorite son, a boy of but twelve
years of age, whom I plucked from beneath the feet of a great
stag, which the hunters had wounded in the forest. The red-men
greatly delight to see their sons take part in the chase, even while
their gristle is yet soft and their limbs feeble; for by this early
practice they desired to make them strong and skilful. The son
of the lord of Calos was a youth, tall and strong beyond his
years; and because of the fondness of his father, exceedingly
audacious in all manner of sports and strifes. Thus it was that,
having seen a great stag wounded by the shaft of his sire, he had
run in upon him with his slender spear. The staff of the spear
broke, even as the barb penetrated the breast of the beast, and
the boy fell forward at the mercy of his mighty antlers. Then
was it that, seeing the lad's danger,—for I was at hand, bearing
the victuals for the hunters—I threw down the basket, and rushing
in, took the stag by his horns, in season for the lad to recover
himself. The lord of Calos drew nigh and saw, but he offered no
help, leaving it to his son to draw the keen knife which he carried,
over the throat of the struggling beast. And, excepting what the
boy said to me of thanks, nothing did I hear of the thing which I
had done. But, three weeks after, the king made his preparations
for a war party against the mountain Indians. Then he spoke to
me, saying, in his own language,—which, by this time, I could
understand,—Barbu,—this was the name which had been given
me because of my beard—Barbu, it is not fit that one with such
limbs and skill as thou hast, should labor still in the occupation of
the women. Get thee a spear, such as will suit thy grasp, and
there are bows and arrows for thy choice,—make thee satisfied
with sufficient provision, and get thee ready to go against mine
enemies. Thou shalt have to tear the flesh of a strong man!

“Verily, my friends, though it shames me to confess, that I, a
Christian man, could lift weapon in behalf of one against another
savage of the wilderness; yet such had been my sorrow, and so
wretched did I feel at the base tasks to which I had been given,
—so very unlike the valiant duties which had distinguished mine
ancient service in the armies of Castile,—that I even rejoiced at
the chance of putting on the armor of war,—and the meaner
weapon of the red-men satisfied me then, who of old had carried,
with great favor, the matchlock and the sword. But the weapon
of the savage, as perchance thou knowest, is not greatly inferior,
according to their usage, and in their country, to the superior implements

with which the Christian warrior takes the field. If the
arquebuse is more fatal than the barbed arrow of the Indian, it is
yet less frequently ready for the danger. While you shall have
put your pieces in readiness for a second fire, the savage will
deliver thirty javelins, each of which, if within bullet reach,
shall inflict such an injury, short of death, as may disarm the
wounded person. Their reeds are always ready at hand. To
them every bay and river bank affords an armory, and the loss
of their weapons, which were fatal to Frenchman or Spaniard,
causes them but little mischief, since a single night will repair all
their losses. Neither much time nor much cost is it to them to
supply their munitions, of which they can always carry a more
abundant provision than can we. The great superiority of the
European, in his encounter with the red-man, is in his wisdom,
the fruit of many ages of civilization, and not in the weapons
which he wields in conflict. Let him exchange weapons with the
savage, and he will still obtain the victory.

“It was because of this showing of superiority, together with
the service which I had thus rendered to his son, that made the
lord of Calos take me with him, armed as a warrior, on his expedition
against the mountain Indians of Apalachy. I hastened
to provide myself with weapons, as I was commanded, and I made
for myself a great mace, such as that which the strongest warriors
carried, which was a billet of hard wood, not more than four feet
in length, with a handle easy to the grasp, while at each side ran
down a great row of flinty teeth, each broad and sharpened like
to a spear-head. It is a fatal weapon, with a well-delivered blow.
In like manner did I imitate the practice of the red-men in dressing
the head and breast for war. I put on the paints, red and
black, which I beheld them use; but, instead of the unmeaning

and rude figures which they scored upon the breast, I drew there
the figure of a large cross, by which, though none but myself
might know, I made anew my assurance to Holy Mother, of a
faith unperishing, in Him who bore its burthen; and implored His
protection against the perils which might lurk along the path. In
the same manner, with a bloody cross, did I inscribe my forehead
and each cheek, while I dipped my hands above the wrist in the
black dyes which they also used as paints, and which they took
from the walnut and other woods of the forest. Greatly did my
Christian comrades wonder to behold me, painted after this
fashion, with a bunch of turkey feathers tied about my head like
the savage, and the strange weapons of the red-men in my
grasp. These rejoiced exceedingly as they beheld me, and
laughed and chatted among themselves, saying—`Yah-hee-wee!
Yah-hee-wee!' with other words, by which they testified their
satisfaction. But our Spaniards were in the same degree sorry,
as it seemed to them that, in spite of the holy emblem upon my
breast, I had delivered myself up to the enemy, and had put on,
with the habit, all the superstitions of the Heathen. They had
sorrow upon other grounds, since I was about to leave them, and,
from the favor I had found with the lord of Calos, I had grown to
be one to whom they began to look as to a mediator and protector.

“We set out thus for the country of the enemy, the lord of
Calos leading the way upon the march, as is the custom with the
Indians, while the foe is yet at a distance from the spot. But, as
we drew nigh to the hills of the Apalachian, the young men were
scattered on every hand, as so many light troops. They covered
all the paths, they harbored in all places where they could maintain
watch and find security, and nightly they sent in runners to

the camp, reporting their discoveries. I entreated of the lord of
Calos to be sent with these young men; but, whether he feared
that I would seek an opportunity to fly and escape to the enemy,
I know not. He refused, saying that it required scouts of experience,—men
who knew the ways of the country, and that I
could be of no use in such adventures. He was pleased to add
that he wished me near him, as one of his own warriors—that is,
the warriors of his family or tribe—that I might do battle at his
side, and in his sight!

“We were not long in finding the enemy, who had received
tidings of our approach. Several battles were fought, in which
I did myself credit in the eyes of our warriors. The lord of Calos
was greatly pleased. He took me with him into counsel, and it
was fortunate that the advice which I gave, as to the conduct of
the war, was adopted, and was greatly successful. Many were
the warriors of the mountain whom we slew. Many scalps were
taken, and more than a hundred captive boys and damsels.
These, if young, are always spared, and taken into the conquering
tribe. The former are newly marked with the totem of the people
who take them, while the latter become the wives of the
chiefs, who greatly value them. I confess to you, my brethren,
that I was guilty of the sin of taking one of these same women
into my cabin, who was to me as a wife, though no holy priest,
with appointed ceremonials of the church, gave his sanction to our
communion. She was a lovely and a loving creature, scarcely
sixteen, but very fair, almost like a Spaniard, and of hair so long
that she hath thrice wrapt it around her own neck and mine.”

“Why didst thou not tell me of that woman?” said Laudonniere,
interrupting the narrator. “Had we known, she should
have been procured with thee. But, even now, it is not too late.

We will bid the chief, Onathaqua, send her after thee, so that
thou may'st wed her according to the rites of the church.”

“Alas!” replied Barbu, “thou compellest me, Señor Laudonniere,
to unravel sin after sin before thee. I have greatly
erred and wandered from the paths of virtue, and from the laws
of Holy Church, in my grievous sojourn among the savages.
That woman filled no longer the place which she had at first in
my affections. With increase of power and security, I grew
wanton. I grew weary of her, and sold her to one of the chiefs
for a damsel of his own house, which mine eyes coveted.”

The Spaniard hung his head as he made this confession, while
Laudonniere with severe aspect rated him for his lecheries.
When the captain had ceased his rebuke, Le Barbu continued his
story thus:

“We gained many battles in this war with the mountain Indians,
who are neither so fierce, nor so subtle as those who dwell along
the regions of the sea. Verily, the people of the lord of Calos
are great dissemblers, treacherous beyond the serpent, valiant of
their persons, and fight with excellent address. Great was the
favor which I found with them because of my conduct in the war;
and, in each succeeding war, for a space of six years, I became,
in like manner, distinguished, until I became a most favorite
chief with the lord of Calos, and a bosom friend and companion
of his son—he whom I had rescued from the stag, and who had
now grown up to manhood. Greatly did this lad favor his father.
He was of a light olive complexion, scarcely more dark than the
people of Spanish race, but superior in stature, well-limbed, and
of admirable dexterity. With him I hunted from the fall of the
leaf in autumn, to the budding of the leaf again in spring; and,
when the summer time came, we sped away in our canoes, up the

vast rivers of the country, through great lakes, many of which
lie embadey in forests of mangrove and palm, where the forest
swims upon the water. If it were possible for a Christian man—
for one who has heard the sound of a great bell in the cities of
the old world, and who has communed with the various good and
wondrous things of civilization—to be content with a loss of these,
and their utter exclusion from sight for ever, then might I have
passed pleasantly the years of my captivity among the people of
Calos. I had become a chief and was greatly honored. I had
power and I was much feared. I had wealth—such wealth as
the savage estimates—and I was loved; and the lord of Calos and
his noble son, put in me a faith which never betrayed a doubt or
a denial. But I had not power to shield my brother Christians,
save in one case. Each year witnessed the sacrifice of a comrade.
They were the victims to the Iawas. The priesthood
was a power under which the kings themselves were made to
tremble. With them was it to determine upon peace or war,
life or death, bonds or freedom; and the strength of the king lay
greatly in his alliance with the priesthood. But for this, the rule
among the savage nations would be wholly with the people.
Season after season, when came the harvest, one of our luckless
Spaniards was taken away from the rest and doomed to the
sacrifice. In this way the savages propitiate the unknown God,
to whom they looked for victory over their enemies. Do not suppose
that I beheld this cruelty without toiling against it. But I
spoke in vain. I made angry the Iawas, until the lord of Calos
himself addressed me, after this fashion—`Son of the stranger,
art thou not well thyself? Why wouldst thou be sick, being
well? Art thou not thyself safe? Why, being so, put thy
head under the macana? It is not wise in thee to see the things
over which the power is denied thee. Go then, with Mico
Wa-ha-la,'—such was the name of his son—`go then with him
into the great lake of the forest, and come not back for a season.
Depart thou thus, always, when the maize is ready for the harvest.'

“I obeyed him; but not until I found that I was endangering
my own safety to attempt further expostulation; and then it was
that my companions perished, all save the one who now sits before
thee with myself, and whom I saved because of a service
which I rendered to the Iawa, and whom I persuaded to take my
white brother into his wigwam. He went, even before myself,
but through my means, into the service of Onathaqua.”

Here Captain Laudonniere interrupted the speaker.

“For what reason,” said he, “being such a favorite with the
king of Calos and his son, didst thou at last leave his service
for that of the King Onathaqua?”

“Alas, Señor Laudonniere, thy question shames me again,
since it requires of me to lay bare another of the vices of my
evil heart, and to confess how the bad passions thereof could
lead me into follies which proved fatal to my better fortune. I
had gained great honor among the savages by my prudence and
my skill in war, my strength in battle, and the excellence of my
counsel in the country of the enemy. I had gained the good will
and protection of the great king of Calos, and the affection of
his son, the noble young Mico Wa-ha-la! But these contented
me nothing, though they brought plenty and security to my
wigwam, and such delights as might satisfy the man, a dweller in
the wilderness. I have said that I was greatly trusted by the
king, the prince, and the head men of the country. These then,
after I had been eight years in their service, confided to my

charge a great and sacred commission. The time had come
when it became proper that this Mico Wa-ha-la should take to
himself a wife. Now, tidings had reached Calos of a creature,
lovely as a daughter of the sun, who was the youngest child of
the King Onathaqua. A treaty was agreed upon between the
two kings for the marriage of their children; and I was dispatched,
with a select body of warriors, to bring the maiden
home to her new sovereign. It was not the custom for a chief
desiring a wife, that he should seek her in person. Accordingly
I was dispatched, and I reached the territories of Onathaqua in
safety. Here I beheld the maiden in pursuit of whom I came,
and my froward heart instantly conceived the wildest affection for
her beauty. Beautiful she was as any of our Castilian maidens,
and as delicate and modestly proper in her bearing, as one may
see in the gentlest damsel of a Christian country. Deeply was I
smitten with this new flame, and greatly did I strive to please
the maiden who had fired me with these fresh fancies. I spake
with her in the Indian language, with charms of thought which
had been taken from the Castilian, such as were vastly superior
to those which belonged to Indian courtship. I sang to her many
a glorious ballad of the sweet romance of my country, discoursing
of the tender loves between the Castilian cavaliers and the
dark-eyed and dark-tressed maidens of Grenada. Verily, the
beauty of the delicate daughter of Onathaqua, the precious
Istakalina—by which the people of Onathaqua understand the
white lily of the lake before it opens—was no unbecoming representative
of that choice dark beauty which made the charm of
the Moorish damsel of my land, ere Boabdil gave up his sceptre
into the hands of the holy Ferdinand. For Istakalina, I rendered
the language of the Castilian romance into the dialect of
her people; and with a sad fondness in her eyes, that drooped
ever while looking upwards at the passionate gaze of mine, did
she listen to the story of feelings and affections to which her own
young and innocent nature did now tenderly incline. Thus was
it that she was delivered into my keeping by her sire, that I
should conduct her to the young Mico Wa-ha-la, my friend.
And thus, with fond discourse of song and story, which grew
more fond with every passing hour—with me to speak and she to
listen—did we commence our journey homeward to the dominions
of the lord of Calos. Alas! for me, and alas! for the hapless
maiden, that, in the fondness of my passion, I forgot my trust;
forgot preciously to guard and protect the precious treasure in
my keeping; and, in the increase of my blind love, forgot all the
lessons of war and wisdom, and all the necessary providence
which these equally demand. Thus was it that I was dispossessed
of my charge, at the very moment when it was most dear
to my delight. Didst thou ask me for the hope which grew with
this blind passion, verily, señor, I should have to say to thee that
I had none. I thought not of the morrow; I dared not think of
the time when Istakalina should fill the cabin of Wa-ha-la. I
knew nothing but that she was with me, with her dark eyes ever
glistening beneath their darker lids, as she met the burning
speech of mine; that we thridded the sinuous paths of silent and
shady forests, with none to reproach our speech or glances; our
attendants, some of them going on before, and some following;
and that, when she ascended the litter, which was borne by four
stout savages, or sat in the canoe as we sped across lake or
river—for both of these modes of travel did we at times pursue—
I was still the nearest to her side, drunk with her sweet beauty,
and the sad tenderness which dwelt in all her looks and actions.
Nor was it less my madness that I fondly set to the account of
her fondness for me, the very sadness with which she answered
my looks, and the sweet sigh which rose so often to her softly
parted lips. Verily, was never man and Christian so false and
foolish as was I, in those bitter blessed moments. Thus was I
blinded to all caution—thus was I heedless of all danger—thus
was I caught in the snare, to the loss of all that was precious as
well to my captor as myself.

“How was this? How happened it?” demanded Laudonniere
as Le Barbu paused, and covered his face with his hands in
silence, as if overcome with a great misery.

“Thou shalt hear, Señor. I will keep nothing from thee of
this sad confession; for, verily, have I long since repented of
the sin and folly which brought after them so much evil. Thou
shalt know that, distant from the territories of the lord of Calos,
a journey of some three days, and nearly that far distant also
from the dwelling of Onathaqua, there lieth a great lake of fresh
water, in the midst of which is an island named Sarropee. This
island and the country which surrounds the lake, is kept by a
very powerful nation, a fierce people, not so numerous as strong,
because they have places of retreat and refuge, whither no enemy
dare pursue them. On the firm land, and in open conflict, the
lord of Calos had long before conquered this strange people;
but in their secure harborage and vast water thickets, they
mocked at the power of all the surrounding kings. These,
accordingly, kept with them a general peace, which was seldom
broken, except under circumstances such as those which I shall
now unfold. The people of this lake and island are rich in the
precious root called the Coonti, of which they have an abundance,
of a quality far superior to that of all the neighboring country.

Their dates, which give forth a delicious honey, are in great
abundance also, and of these their traffic is large with all other
nations. But that they are a most valiant people, and occupy a
territory so troublesome to penetrate, they had been destroyed by
other nations, all of whom are greedy for the rich productions
which their watery realm bestows. Now, it was, that, in our
journey homewards, we drew nigh to the great lake of the people
of the isle of Sarropee. Here it was that my footstep faltered, and the
vision of mine eyes was completely shut. I knew that our people
were at peace with the people of Sarropee, and I thought not of
them. But had I not been counselled to vigilance in bringing
home the daughter of Onathaqua, even as if the woods were
thick with enemies? But I had forgotten this caution. I sent
forth no spies; I sought for no wisdom from my young warriors;
and, like an ignorant child that knows not of the deep gulf
beneath, I stepped confidently into the little canoe which was to
take Istakalina and myself across an arm of the lake which set
inwards, while our warriors fetched a long compass around it.
Alas! señor, I was beguiled to this folly by the fond desire that I
might have the lovely maiden wholly to myself in the little canoe,
for already did I begin to grieve with the thought that in a few
days, the journey would be at an end, and I should then yield her
unto the embraces of another. And thus we entered the canoe.
I made for her a couch, in the bottom of the little boat, of leaves
gathered from the scented myrtle. With the paddle in my
hand, I began to urge the vessel, but very slowly, lest that we
should too soon reach the shore, and find the warriors waiting for
us. Sweetly did I strive to discourse in her listening ears; and
with what dear delight did I behold her as she answered me only
with her tears. But these were as the cherished drops of hope
about mine heart, which gave it a life which it never knew before.
While thus we sped, dreaming nothing of any danger, over the
placid waters, with the dark green mangrove about us, and a soft
breeze playing on the surface of the great lake, suddenly, from
out the palm bushes, darted a cloud of boats, filled with painted
warriors, that bore down upon us with shows of fury and a
mighty shout of war. I answered them with a shout, not unlike
their own, for already had I imbibed something of the Indian
nature. I shouted the war-whoop of the lord of Calos, and
tried to make myself heard by the distant warriors that formed
my escort. And they did hear my clamors; for already had they
rounded the bayou or arm of the lake which I had sought to
cross, and were pressing down towards us upon the opposite banks.
Then did I bestir the paddle in my grasp, making rapid progress
for the shore, while the canoes of the Sarropee strove to dart
between us and the place for which I bent. But what could my
single paddle avail against their better equipment? Theirs
were canoes of war, carrying each more than a score of powerful
warriors armed for action, and prepared to peril their lives in
the prosecution of their object. I, too, was armed as an Indian
warrior, and with their approach, I betook me to my weapon. I
had learned to throw the short lance, or the javelin of the
savage, with a dexterity like his own; and, ere they could approach
me, I had fatally struck with these darts two of their
most valiant warriors. They strove not to return the arrows
lest they should hurt the maiden, Istakalina, who had raised herself
at the first danger, and now strove with the paddle which I
had thrown down. As one of the canoes which threatened us
drew nigh, I seized the great macana which I carried, and prepared
myself to use it upon the most forward warriors; but when
I expected that they would assail me with war-club and spear,
the cunning savages thrust their great prow against our little
boat, amidships, and even while my macana lighted on the head
of one of the assailants, smiting him fatally, I fell over into the
lake with the upsetting of our vessel. In a moment had they
grasped Istakalina from the lake, and taken her to themselves in
their own canoe, and as I raised my head from the water, beholding
this mishap, a heavy stroke upon my shoulder, which
narrowly missed my head, warned me of my danger. Then,
seeing that I could no longer save the captive maiden, I dived
deeply under, making my way like an otter, beneath the water,
for the shore. A flight of arrows followed my rising to take the
air, but they were hurriedly delivered, with little aim, and only
one of them grazed my cheek. The mark is still here as thou
seest. Again I dived beneath the water, still swimming shoreward,
and when I next rose into the light and air, I was among
the people of the lord of Calos. They were now assembled along
the banks of the lake, as near as they could go to the enemy,
some of them, indeed, having waded waist deep in their wild fury
and desperate defiance. But of what avail were their weapons
or their rage? The maiden, Istakalina, the princess and the
betrothed of Wa-ha-la, was gone. The people of the Sarropee
had borne her off, heeding me little even as they had taken her.
She was already far off, moving towards the centre of the lake,
and faint were the cries which now came from her, though it
delighted my poor vain heart, in that desperate hour, to perceive
that, in her last cries, it was my unhappy name that she uttered.
They bore her away to the secret island where they dwelt, in
secure fastnesses; and long and fruitless, though full of desperation,
was the war that followed for her recovery. But, though I
myself fought in this war, as I never have fought before, yet did
I not dare to do battle under the eye, or among the warriors of
the lord of Calos. I fled from his sight and from the reproaches
of my friend, the Mico Wa-ha-la, for, in my soul, I felt how
deep had been my guilt, and my conscience did not dare the
encounter with their eyes. I took refuge with Onathaqua, the
father of Istakalina; and when he knew of the valor with which
I strove against the captivity of the maiden, he forgave me
that I lost her through my own imprudence. Of the blind and
selfish passion which prompted that imprudence, he did not
dream, and he so forgave me. Under his lead, I took up arms
against the tribes of Sarropee, and for two years did the war
continue, with great slaughter and distress among the several
nations. But, in all our battles, I kept ever on the northern side of
the great lake, and never allowed myself to join with the warriors
of Calos. They but too well conceived my guilt. The keen
eyes of mine escort distinguished my passion, and saw that it was
not ungracious in the sight of Istakalina. Too truly did they
report us to the lord of Calos, and to my friend, the young Mico
Wa-ha-la. Bitter was the reproach which he made me in a last
gift which he sent me, while I dwelt with Onathaqua. It consisted
of a single arrow, from which depended a snake skin, with
the warning rattles still hanging thereto. `Say to the bearded
man,' said the Mico, `when you give him this, that it comes from
Wa-ha-la. Tell him that his friend sends him this, in token that
he knows how much he hath been wronged. Say to the bearded
man, that Wa-ha-la had but one flower of the forest, and that
his friend hath gathered it. Let his friend beware the arrow of
the warrior, and the deadly fang of the war-rattle, for the path
between us is everywhere sown with the darts of death.'

Thus he spake, and I was silent. I was guilty. I could
not excuse myself, and did not entreat. I felt the truth of
his complaint and the justice of his anger. I felt how great had
been my folly and my crime. Istakalina was lost to us both.
Thus then, a fugitive, and an outlaw from Calos, dreading every
moment the vengeance of Wa-ha-la and his warriors, I dwelt
for seven years with Onathaqua, who hath ever treated me as a
son. I have fought among his warriors, and shared the fortunes
of his people, of which nothing more need be said. Tidings at
length came to me, of a people in the country bearded like
myself. Then came your messengers to Onathaqua, and you
behold me here. I looked not for Frenchmen but for Spaniards.
I thank and praise the Blessed Mother of God, that I have found
friends if not countrymen, and that I see, once more, the faces
of a Christian people.”

Thus ended the narrative of Le Barbu, or the Bearded Man
of Calos.