 | CHAPTER XII. The doomed chief, or, Two hundred years ago |  |
12. CHAPTER XII.
The ruined home, the wasted field;
They rushed to meet the insulting foe;
They took the spear, but left the shield.”
“Guards of a nation's destiny!—
'Tis yours to shield the dearest ties
That bind to life the heart,
That mingle with the earliest breath,
And with the last depart.”
Perhaps there is no prospect or spectacle on earth, that so
pleasingly combines the finest elements of the grand and beautiful,
as a view taken from one of the lofty mountains rising
from our New England landscapes, which, lying spread out beneath
and around the summit stand-point, extend, mellowing
away in the dim distance, beyond the furthest limits of the
wandering vision. This will be found generally to hold good,
we believe, of nearly all our high mountains, even as now
standing in their interior locations. But had some of their
most lofty and commanding peaks been situated on the sea-board,
the grandeur of the scene they might have afforded,
must have been almost immeasurably enhanced; while there
need have been, when taken as a whole, little or no diminution
of the beautiful. Had Mount Washington, that out-towering
giant among the cloud-breaking elevations of the north,
stood beetling over the sea, at Cape Elizabeth, what conception
can compass the magnificence of the scene, which its tremendous
summit would have presented to the entranced beholder,
on the one side, and the smooth and tranquil, or
rough and tumbling waters of the illimitable ocean on the
other.
No high mountains, however, rise any where in the near
vicinity of our sea-board, to afford us views of such a supposable
character. Only eminences of two, three, and, at the utmost,
we believe, four hundred feet, can anywhere be found
from one end of our long line of coast to the other, situated so
near the broad ocean, or any of its extensive bays, as to give
us the opportunity to look down and abroad upon its liquid
plains, in any such sense, as we look down and abroad from
the mountain peak upon the subjacent plains of a country
landscape. And even these elevations are not only few and
widely scattered, but generally rise at too great a distance
from the outward line of coast, to give us anything like a clear
and uninterrupted view of the ocean. But among all those
eminences in our coast country, that do afford such views,
there are none, perhaps, more favorably located for embracing
those extensive land and water views, that combine the requisites
of a perfect landscape, than Pocasset Hill, which rises
abruptly from that low lying country around, to the height
of three hundred and twenty-three feet, and which, at the
same time, is situated within half a mile of the great eastern
arm of Narraganset Bay, in the northeastern corner of
the State of Rhode Island, and only about fifteen from a
long reach of Buzzards Bay on the east, and another of the
open ocean on the south. Here the eye of the spectator, as
he stands on the summit of this conspicuous eminence, wanders
on the north and west, over the bright waters of the
broken and fantastically indented bay, and the thriving villages
seen glimmering from various points along the serpentine
coasts, and stretching away to the distant capital of the state,
and even beyond to the far off highlands of Massachusetts and
reaches of sombre forests and glittering lakelets, with
the scores of villages and hamlets every where variegating the
scene, till all the lessening objects of the vision become blended
and lost in the long light line of the encircling ocean.
On the summit rock of that conspicuous eminence, on the
second morning after the fruitless invasion of Mount Hope,
described in the last chapter, sat two men intently engaged in
scanning the various aspects of the forests, then stretching away
from the hill on the east to the vicinity of the seaboard, without
break or opening, except in the long bright chain of the
Watuppa ponds, whose nearest points were but two or three
miles distant. Both these men were here in the guise of Indian
dresses and native accoutrements; and one of them, the most
youthful and finely formed of the two, had so skillfully metamorphosed
himself by these, and the application of some
kind of coloring matter to all the visible parts of his skin, that
it would have required far more than any ordinary closeness
of observation to have discovered him to have been other
than what his general appearance indicated.
“There, Noel, I think I have it at last!” exclaimed the
last named person, after a long and close inspection of a particular
locality in the forest before him, which he had selected
as the most promising for the discoveries he was seeking—
“I think I have hit upon the place at last.”
“Whereaway, Captain Willis?” asked the other—“where-away
are you detecting any indications of their encampment?
I have discovered nothing of the kind.”
“I will direct your eye to the spot in question, Noel. You
see that long swell of oak forest land, lying something like two
miles off, perhaps, and running north and south about half way
between this first little appendant sheet of water down here to
the southeast, and the great South Watuppa pond—do you?”
“Yes,—I have now got my eye on to the spot you mean, I
suppose.”
“Well, by comparing the peculiar hue of the atmosphere
along the line of the swell with that of all the surrounding
localities, you can easily detect quite a difference in the appearance—do
you distinguish it now?”
“I think I can. Ay—now you have directed my attention
to it, I do very plainly perceive the difference you name; but
what is your version of the matter?”
“My version is that the peculiar appearance of the air all
along over that swell, is but a thin, filmy cloud of smoke,
which has gradually risen up through the trees from small innumerable
fires, such as would naturally be built at an Indian
encampment in cooking their morning meals. And I will
venture to express my unhesitating belief, that Metacom and
his two thousand warriors are all encamped on that single swell
of land.”
“I think you may be right, captain—a single fire, kindled
by a hunting or fishing party, would, if as large as usually
made, rise up through the trees in a distinct column; at all
events, it would not be apt to diffuse itself over but a small
space; while the smoke from numerous small fires scattered
over a space half a mile in extent and imperceptibly stealing
up through the trees from a hundred different places, would,
probably, gradually unite in the air above, so as to produce
the blue, hazy appearance, which certainly does hang over that
tract of the woods. And if our conjectures are correct about
the cause of this appearance, the place is probably the camping
ground of the Wampanoogs, who are doubtless concentrated
somewhere in this vicinity.”
“Yes, that is my conclusion; for Queen Wetamoo's tribe
would not be numerous enough to spread over so large a space
as I judge this encampment to embrace; besides, the principal
south of us.”
“Ah! does her territory extend as far north as that southernmost
chain of ponds yonder?”
“Just about, I suppose, but why do you ask?”
“Because, when you called my attention in this direction,
I was scrutinizing appearances in that quarter, and if I am
not very much mistaken, I saw a large number of Indian canoes
lying along shore at the extremity of that pond. Let us
examine what I took to be canoes, a little more particularly.”
They did so, and were soon rewarded with an additional
discovery. They not only clearly made out the objects pointed
out by Noel to be canoes, but soon saw a large body of Indians
coming down to the shore, a part of whom took the
canoes and struck out over the pond to the north; while the
main body, as became evident by occasional glimpses of them
which were obtained as they passed through open spaces adjoining
the water, moved rapidly along the eastern shore in
the same direction.
“I understand it all,” said Willis, turning away with the
air of one who deems the subject of inquiry fully settled. “I
understand the whole arrangement as well as the red plotters
themselves.”
“Well, then, captain, on putting all these things together,
what is the amount of your conclusions?”
“It is this—that body of Indians we have just discovered
passing on north, are Wetamoo's four hundred warriors, the
queen herself and a small band for her guard, being those we
saw putting off in the canoes. They are all on their way to
King Philip's camp, to perfect an alliance, and concert measures
for the next series of outbreaks. Such, at least, is the
indication of their intentions; but the exact character of the
meeting, and the plans of Philip, cannot be ascertained except
but who will undertake to go into their camp unless I do it
myself?”
“Into the camp itself, Captain Willis—into the den—nay,
the very jaws of the lion! Why, surely, you have not been
meditating anything so daring as this? A reconnoitering
close enough to obtain a pretty good idea of the character and
numbers of the enemy, if we discovered their locality, I was
prepared for, but not for this. Are you really serious about
making such a perilous attempt?”
“O yes. I thought when we left our camp, that circumstances
might require more of me than an ordinary reconnoissance;
and that was the reason I was so careful to perfect my
disguise.”
“But, why not send one or two of our Saconet scouts?”
“In the first place, they could not be induced to venture
directly into the Wampanoog camp; and if they could, they
would not be likely to obtain all the information which I
want, and which I have faith to believe I can obtain by the
proposed visit. I can both understand and speak their language.
I can interpret their movements and general appearance,
and draw my own inferences. And, as my disguise is
complete, I shall, while running little risk of detection, subserve
a most important public object. At all events, Noel, I
have made up my mind to try the experiment.”
“Then, friend Willis, we may as well call you a lost man.
Your courage, it seems to me, wholly outstrips the ordinary
bounds of prudence.”
“You should have more reliance on an over-ruling Providence,
Noel. The enterprise is sanctioned by its importance.
Who knows what bloodshed and suffering may be prevented—
what villages saved from destruction, and what countless
families snatched from an awful death—by the timely discovery
of the designs of a foe, who ever come without warning,
expected? The motive which moves me to prevent, if
possible, calamities like these, will surely command from
heaven the protection of my life.”
“Then, if you will go, it should be my duty to go with
you—at least, into the near vicinity, to be at hand to aid you
in case of detection and trouble.”
“No—one will run less chances of detection than two, even
though one of them keep at a distance behind.”
“What would you have me do, then, Captain Willis?”
“Go down to our company on the shore; and then, if you
please, you may march them silently around — say, to a point
about a quarter of a mile west of the south end of this little
pond down here, where we just saw the Indians passing. You
will there be sufficiently distant from the trail not to attract
the attention of any stragglers following after the main body.”
“It shall be promptly done, captain.”
“Very well; I will then make to that point for joining
you, after I get fairly clear of Metacom's camp. But let us
agree on the exact location of your halt for the purpose.
There! do you notice that green clump of pine trees, with a
tall, dry one shooting up in the midst, all standing not far
from the point I named?”
“Yes, very distinctly.”
“Well, whether I am pursued or not, I will make my way
to that tree. Now, Noel, keep up faith and courage, and
within two hours expect to see me at that spot. Good bye.”
“Good bye, captain—good bye, my friend Willis. May
God keep you.”
A few words may here be necessary, perhaps, to fill the
apparent break between the last and present chapters. After
Captain Willis obtained permission to detach his little band
from the main army, which was not to return until the next
day, he immediately left Mount Hope, and made a forced
his company with the food and ammunition necessary for
the projected expedition into the great forest on the east side
of the Narraganset bay, in search of King Philip's forces,
whom he felt so confident he should discover to be there
concentrated. And having thus supplied themselves the next
morning, and made all other advisable preparations for the
enterprise on hand, the company struck across the then but
partially cleared country, to a point on Taunton river some
eight or ten miles from its outlet, passed over the broad stream
in boats procured for the purpose, and, turning short to the
right, proceeded slowly and cautiously down the thickly
wooded banks on the east side of that wide-spreading outlet,
towards Queen Wetamoo's dominions, lying nearly opposite to
those of King Philip on the opposite side of Mount Hope
Bay.
As the way was often extremely circuitous, the extensive
intervening swamps compelling them to make wide detours to
the east, it was nearly sunset before they reached the shore
of the bay, near the western base of the sightly eminence,
with a description of which was accompanied the opening
scene of the present eventful chapter. And no signs betokening
the vicinage of the enemy having been discovered
anywhere above, Captain Willis soon determined to encamp
at this place for the night, and make it his head quarters for
the reconnoissance.
He proposed to set on foot the next morning, feeling very
confident, from his knowledge of the country, that Metacom
and his collected warriors could not now be far distant. Accordingly,
they cast about them for a place for encampment,
which would afford them the best advantages for defence in
case of an attack by night, and soon were fortunate enough
to find one enclosed on three sides by the overhanging shelf
of an encircling ledge of rocks, and the water and an almost
to kindle any tell-tale fires, they partook, each from
his well stored pack, their evening meal, and lay down on
their mossy carpet for their welcome repose, which, happily,
was not disturbed till the bright morning sun, peering over
the eastern hills, looked down into the fastness of their
bivouac, and roused them from their slumbers to enter upon
the untried scenes of the day before them.
Before deciding on any plan of action, however, Willis
decided on taking his lieutenant with him and ascending to
the top of the hill, believing they might there make discoveries
which might decide the plan of operations to be pursued;
when, on the suggestion of the captain, they both exchanged
dresses with two of their Saconet scouts, with
additional disguises on the part of the former, and set off for
the summit, where we introduced them in the new characters
they decided to assume to favor the important discoveries they
are intent on making.
Leaving his anxious and apprehensive subaltern to return
to his company, on the shore below, Captain Willis, after the
parting we have described, immediately set forth to execute
his daring purpose. He well knew his personal safety must
necessarily be more or less involved in the undertaking. Yet
the public interest, he believed, demanded the risk at his
hands. And this, he persuaded himself, would have alone
decided the question of the bold attempt, if he had no other
object in view.
But he had another object in view, which he had not chosen
to reveal, and which was more potent in inciting him to the
undertaking, perhaps, than he would have been ready to acknowledge.
He fully believed that his lost Madian was
somewhere retained as a captive among the Indians, and he
had resolved that he would, in some way or other, penetrate
into every Indian village or encampment in the country,
therefore, with this double motive, he pushed on to the execution
of his purpose with a resolution which knew no turning,
and which never for one moment wavered.
Setting his course, when he reached the termination of the
eastern slope of the hill, so as to keep clear of the northern
extremity of the small pond before mentioned, he proceeded,
with light, rapid steps, through the thick and swampy forest
for more than a mile; when, finding himself on ascending
ground, he paused to ascertain his position and bearings.
Soon perceiving, from certain landmarks he had noted before
leaving his lookout on the hill, that he had reached the
foot of the oak ridge, on the other slope of which was the
supposed encampment, and believing it would be safest to approach
it through the thickly leaved forest covering the whole
length of the swell, he passed on a half a mile to the north,
and then, turning short to the right, proceeded directly over
the rise, and soon found himself in the leafy and thick undergrowth
of the deciduous forest, through which no object was
but a short distance discernible. Here he made a pause, and
called into exercise all his senses to enable him to form some
opinion of the distance he might now be from the location he
had marked as the central point of the hostile camp. And
very soon the low, confused sounds that reached his ears,
and the fresh smell of smoke that pervaded the forest, told
him that a large body of men were collected at no great distance
to the south of him; and that he had been very nearly
correct in the calculations he had made respecting the location
they occupied. Having made these observations, he
cautiously made his way towards the place, stopping every
few rods to listen and reconnoitre. After proceeding in this
manner nearly a quarter of a mile, he began to obtain occasional
glimpses of men in motion, only a few hundred yards
in front of him; when knowing that he was now in the immediate
survey of the woods on his right and left, to ascertain whether
there were any outlying scouts, or Indians straggling without
the limits of the encampment, in that direction. But perceiving
none, he cast about him for some impervious thicket, or
other screening object further ahead, which would enable him
to look into the camp before he could be seen, that he might
the better judge whether, or in what manner, it would be expedient
to enter it. And he soon discovered the thick top
of a tree, which had recently been blown by the wind across
a knoll, about half way between him and the place where the
movements had been perceived. To this leafy screen he now,
while continually throwing keen, searching glances in every
direction around him, silently and stealthily made his way;
and having gained it, he crawled under the lowest branches,
and then gradually rose to his feet; when finding himself
effectually concealed, he edged himself along to a small opening
in the branches, and applied his eye for the long sought
observation. The first imperfect glance disclosed to him
numbers of the enemy so unexpectedly near, as to cause him
hastily to withdraw his gaze, lest some roving eye among
them should chance to meet his, and thus detect his presence.
The encampment lay directly, and in plain view before him,
reaching, indeed, nearly up to the foot of the narrow knoll
on which he was standing in his fortunately impervious concealment.
A second, and now more cautiously made observation,
revealed the whole scene, and fully confirmed all his
previous conjectures respecting the numbers and character of
the enemy. On an area of less than two acres of level ground,
from which the undergrowth had been very recently cut
down and cleared away, were assembled all the flower and
strength of the proud and sternly independent tribe of the
Wampanoogs, numbering not less than two thousand brave
and able-bodied warriors, all armed with guns, and wholly
on their exodus from Mount Hope, a few days previous, had
all been sent to the villages of the Narragansets on the western
shore of the great bay which derives its name from that
once powerful tribe.
Near the centre of the encampment, in front of a large
temporary wigwam, stood the master spirit of them all, the
princely Metacom, arrayed in his best costume and most
showy royal insignia. He was conversing with a group of
his confidential counselors and war captains, who stood around
him reverentially listening to his remarks, and occasionally
sending wistful glances towards the south, as if awaiting the
approach of visitors from that direction; while the main body
of the warriors were scattered over the whole grounds, some
smoking their pipes near the decaying fires of their respective
messes, some leaning against trees, and some passing slowly
from one group to another, but all with their arms at hand, and
maintaining the same expectant attitude as their great leader
and his officers, to whom their eyes were frequently turned,
and from whom they were all evidently looking for some public
announcement. With the most intense interest, did our
young hero scrutinize every part of the wild scene before him.
Impelled by the first solicitude of his heart, he carefully inspected,
one by one, the light, unsubstantial and open bough
structures, which had been made to serve as sleeping tents
for the assembled Indians, till he at length became fully satisfied
that no one of them all could contain a female captive, and
that, consequently, the object of his secret anxieties could not
be in this encampment. But might she not be with the tribe
of Queen Wetamoo, whose expected approach, he judged, from
his discoveries on the hill, it must be, which was now engrossing
the attention of the red multitude before him? If so,
would she not be likely to be brought along among the female
personal attendants of that haughty queen, as a trophy
in the supposition. And knowing there could be no
exigency more favorable for diverting all attention from himself,
than the excitement and confusion which would naturally
attend the ingress of Wetamoo and her numerous train
into camp, he resolved to seize on the occasion to put his daring
project in execution. This point being settled, and the
manner of his consequent procedure being arranged in his
mind, he patiently awaited the advent of the approaching
company. His suspense, however, was of short duration. A
great shout rose from the woods, a short distance to the south,
modulated to that peculiar tone by which the Indians usually
announce their approach when drawing near their destination
on visits of peace and friendship. The shout of the advancing
warriors was instantly returned by a loud and hearty acclamation
of welcome on the part of the gratified Metacom and
his warmly sympathizing Wampanoogs, who all immediately
hurried forward from all parts of the encampment to array
themselves in lines on each side of their great chieftain to
witness, or participate in the ceremonies of the reception. A
single glance at these movements, told the adventurous young
officer, that the critical movement for making his meditated
attempt to mingle unnoticed in the crowd, had arrived. Accordingly
he noiselessly backed out from his tree top screen,
glided round it into open view, and with his rifle in hand,
and with an air of perfect unconcern about every thing, except
the objects which were causing the common rush, hastened
forward a little in the rear of the last of the incoming warriors,
and was soon jostling and jostled about in the thickest of the
changing volumes of the eager crowd, who had no eyes for
any thing but for the sight of their distinguished royal visitant
and her warrior train, then seen just emerging from the
thick forest below into the more open grounds of the encampment.
First came the stately and beautiful Queen, magnificently
to be emblematical of the character she intended to sustain in
the pending conflict,—that of the woman and the warrior united
in her own person. Next, and immediately behind her,
marched the small, grave-looking band of her chosen counselors,
and then, in two separate columns, the far extending
lines of her swarthy warriors.
After advancing within the limits of a dozen paces from the
spot occupied by Metacom and his counselors, she paused,
and, without uttering a word, turned to her followers, and
first waved her hand to her counselors to take their places at
her side, and then to her warriors to come forward and form
themselves into lines on the right and left, corresponding with
those of the opposite party. Having seen all her forces thus
properly arranged, she turned round, advanced a step and
confronting her royal host, stood silently awaiting the salutation
which their etiquette required he should be the first to
offer.
“Queen Wetamoo,” at length rang out the trumpet voice
of the chieftain host, breaking the profound silence which for
the last full minute had pervaded the confronting ranks.
“Queen Wetamoo, thou, whose woman form holds the soul
of the great warrior, we kindly greet thee, and bid thee and
all thy braves a warm welcome to our encampment.”
“Noble Metacom!” responded the other, with queenly dignity,
“thy words please us well. Thy greeting is warm, but
only such as our friendship deserves at thy hands. We are
glad to find it so; for we come to offer thee the words of peace
and good will; and we hope the chain that shall unite our
people will never grow dim by the moth of jealousy, or the rust
of age. My noble brother's words are good—may the words of
Wetamoo be as pleasing.”
“But our queenly sister is wise,” rejoined the chief, with
a kind but searching look. “She knows there is a friendship
is very pleasant, and, when there are no dark clouds in the
sky, may answer a good purpose; but when the angry storm
cloud hangs over us, we are not satisfied with smooth words;
we want the friendship of deeds.”
“Does Metacom suppose,” replied the former, almost indignantly,
“that Wetamoo would, at a time like this, offer any
other than a friendship which is meant to show itself in deeds?
Does he not know how the fawn was turned to the panther by
that one terrible wrong of the pale faces, which took from him
a noble brother—from her a loving husband? Can he remember
his own wrongs, and believe she has forgotten hers? Can
he have heard the cry of mortal anguish which then burst
from her crushed heart, and believe that the never dying curse
will not always ring out from the iron into which the foul
deed, from that black day, turned it? Does Wetamoo ever
lie down at night, or rise in the morning without thinking of
this? Does she ever have a dream which does not shape itself
into a bitter curse on the white man? Would she suffer
herself to live a single day, but for the hope of seeing her
wrongs avenged?”
“The heart of Metacom beats to the words of his wronged,
but still strong hearted sister,” replied the chief with an air
of mingled sadness and indignation. “He remembers all her
wrongs, and joins them with his own, as things laid up for the
day of the terrible atonement. He enters into all her feelings.
He knows her thoughts; and he well knows, also, how
she, of herself, would gladly act at this great turning point of
the red man's destiny. But he does not yet know what her
counselors and warriors would do. They have suffered
wrongs, but no such wrongs as Metacom and Wetamoo; and
they may not see that the wasting thunders which the pale
faces are everywhere preparing, are as much intended for
them as the more hated Wampanoogs. They may not be the
hunting grounds and the graves of their fathers; but their
day of trouble will come next, and their destruction be the
more certain, because, having neglected the only opportunity
they could ever have of joining their red brethren in rolling
back the thunder on the heads of the destroyers themselves,
till all perish, they will then have none to stand between them
and the storm of death come to sweep them from the land.
These are the words of truth, but they may not see it so.”
“They do see it so, noble Metacom!” exclaimed the excited
Wetamoo. “They know the words of Metacom to be the
words of wisdom and truth. They, too, have their wrongs
and insults to remember and avenge. They see what fate is
intended for all the red men; and they will not refuse to help
the Wampanoog roll back the thunder till the destroyers shall
themselves find the fate they are intending for others. They
know it all—they see it, they feel it with their queen. Then,
try them, Metacom, and see if they make no sign of their will
for the right action.”
“It is the favoring moment! It shall be done,” said Metacom
in a tone so low that none but those immediately around
him could hear the words, as he drew the blood red symbol
hatchet from under his broad wampum belt, and advancing
and waving it on high in sight of both armies, threw it down
at the feet of Wetamoo.
The eyes of the warrior beauty sparkled with savage delight
as she witnessed the significant deed, but without offering to
touch the implement lying before her, or to give the least utterance
to her laboring emotions, she turned to her counselors and
bent on them an anxious and imploring look, more eloquent
than words, of her wish for their approbation, before she took
the responsibility of performing the solemn and binding act,
to which she and her tribe had been thus officially challenged
by the great warrior of the Wampanoogs. And her countenance
and visible expressions of approval, with which these grave
men met her enquiring glances. She then raising herself to
her full height, spread out her suppliant hands to the whole
mass of her assembled warriors, who fully comprehending the
purport of the mute appeal, and being deeply stirred at what
they had already heard and witnessed, instantly responded in
an universal burst of all the varying tones and expressions of
encouragement and applause. Scarcely waiting till this welcome
demonstration had died on her ears, she turned, and,
with trembling haste, seized on the typical hatchet, eagerly
kissed the red blade, and then raising it on high, fiercely
waved it over her head towards her admiring warriors, who
sent up a hearty shout in ratification of the war-league involved
in the symbolic, but, in their eyes, the no less sacredly binding
performance. And the next moment the startled wilderness
shook with the wildly responding acclamations of the
delighted Wampanoogs.
“It is well!” exclaimed Metacom glancing along the serried
lines of the now confederated warriors, with a look of intense
gratification—“it is well! it is enough!”
“It is well; but it is not enough!” quickly responded the
ardent Wetamoo, proudly advancing to the other with looks
beaming with high resolve—“No, it is not enough, brave
Metacom. We feel—all our united warriors feel, to-day, that
none will turn back or grow faint while a pale face lives to
wrong us. Let us swear that the feeling of to-day shall be
the feeling of to-morrow, and forever. For ourselves and our
tribes, in the presence of the avenging spirits hovering over
us, let us swear it, Metacom, let us swear it!”
Metacom—even the lion-hearted Metacom—could not but
hesitate at the thought of taking the unalterable oath of
devoting himself, without reserve, to the desperate purpose he
saw involved in the bold proposition of the relentless Wetamoo,
with the united colonies of New England. Although,
in brooding over his wrongs, he had often secretly made
resolutions to the same effect, and always foreseen that the
war, when once begun, would probably never cease short of
the entire overthrow of either one or the other of the belligerent
parties, yet he too well knew and appreciated the means
and power of the colonists not to make him pause and tremble
in view of the fearful issue, and consequently to hesitate to
make the irrevocable declaration in presence of the assembled
warriors, and under the sanction of the awful invocation which
had been proposed.
But every doubt and shadow of hesitancy, which, for the
moment, might have caused the far-seeing chieftain to pause
before this Rubicon of his fate, was destined to be banished
forever from his mind by the unexpected incident that now
suddenly occurred to interrupt the proceedings. Two of the
Wampanoog scouts, who had hovered along the skirts of the
English forces invading Mount Hope, witnessed from their
distant coverts all that had transpired there, and remained till
they saw the main body of their troops far on their way back
to Swansey, now rushed wildly into camp, and announced the
devastation of all the beautiful corn fields of their chief by
the white men, who had been there in great numbers with no
other visible object. The news fell with terrible effect on
the mind of Metacom, who at once saw in the destruction of
his growing crops, on which he was depending for the winter
supplies of his army, the extent of the calamity that had thus
befel them. By the entire evacuation of his tribe of the
peninsula of Montaup, he supposed he had removed all the
object his foes could have in invading the place; and even if
a few should come there, he never dreamed they would think
of wreaking their vengeance in the wanton destruction of his
growing crops. But the destruction of his property was not
the whites to cease hostilities only with the extinction of his
people. And the deed and the inference were abundantly
sufficient to bring him to an instant decision.
“Warriors!” exclaimed the exasperated chief, in a voice so
loud and determined that even his own followers were startled
at the sound, while he hastily motioned the ready Wetamoo to
his side—“Warriors, all!—not only the braves of our own
tribe, but those, too, who, with their warrior queen, have so
nobly joined us this day in the wampum league of war—open
wide your ears; listen to the words of Metacom and Wetamoo.
The mountain of injuries which the white robbers of our lands
have for years been heaping on our heads, you have heard of
before. Yesterday you heard how many of our braves they
had killed at Swansey; to-day, you hear how they have trampled
down every acre of our beautiful corn fields at Montaup.
Now, listen, warriors! For every one of the braves they
have slain, a dozen white scalps shall be seen dangling in our
wigwams! For every acre of corn they have destroyed, a
dozen houses of the white men shall be seen blazing from the
torches of our braves! The words `peace and friendship'
with the double-tongued destroyers of our rights and property,
are never, from this hour, to pass our own lips or be breathed
in our presence; but in havoc and blood we will pursue them
over the whole land, making their days busy in burying the
dead carcases we have left on our battle fields, and their nights
light from the fires of their burning towns and villages! By
the Great Manitou, we swear it! These are the words of
Metacom and Wetamoo. They are things that are not to be
changed or ever taken back. The Great Spirit has heard
them, and will guide his red children on the war path.
Have all our warriors also heard them, to approve and remember?”
The united war-cry which now wildly burst from the lips
with the sounds of their fiercely clashing knives and tomahawks,
was their terribly significant response to the dread
appeal of their now oath-bound and desperate chieftain.
“It is well—it is good!” exclaimed the chief with an effort
to appear calm under the fierce delight with which he
had so evidently witnessed the welcome demonstration. “It
is very well. The war whoop of the wronged red man is music
to the red man's god. It is settled. The Great Spirit
told me in a vision that if the red men willed it, the red men
should conquer. The red men have now willed it, and the
promise will not fail. I see it all now coming up in the future.
The pale faces fade away. The red men remain to
guard the bones of their fathers, and enjoy the land their fathers
gave them. Warriors, I have done. Go now to kindle
your fires and prepare the great war-feast, which deserves to
crown the great doings of the day. With to-morrow's sun
your dividing bands shall be put on their war-paths.”
It would be difficult to analyze the mingling emotions of
surprise, alarm, and horror, with which our disguised hero
had witnessed from his place in the hostile but unobservant
crowd, the scene we have just described. He had, it was
true, made no discoveries leading to the remotest clue to the
mystery which engrossed so many of his secret thoughts; but
of the strength of the enemy, their desperate resolution, and
the plans, resources, and sagacity of their great leader, he felt
he had learned more in that one hour, than months of bitter
experience might have taught him. So absorbed had he become,
indeed, by the thoughts to which the unmistakable
significance of much he saw and heard, gave rise, that he almost
ceased to realize the perils which he knew attended his
situation in the midst of an exasperated foe, and forgot his
resolution to withdraw himself before the ceremonies should
close, till recalled to it by the closing words, of the chief, and
however, to his own fertility of expedients, in case he
should have occasion to use them to ensure his escape, he
borrowed no trouble, but hurried along, with his well assumed
air of stoical indifference, with those moving in the same direction,
till he had nearly gained the end of the encampment
at which he had so unsuspectedly entered. Here he paused,
and sent a quick, searching glance around him. Perceiving
that all the Indians who took the same course with himself, on
the scattering of the crowd, had all stopped or turned aside,
and had begun to busy themselves in collecting fuel or building
fires, he passed carelessly on, and cheered by the thought that
one moment more would place him beyond the danger of detection,
was on the point of entering the protecting coverts
of the leafy undergrowth, when, to his no small disquietude,
he encountered a Wampanoog warrior, who was returning
from some near point in the woods, whither, it seemed, he had
proceeded unnoticed before the assemblage had dispersed.
The Indian, however, did not appear to act as if he supposed
there was anything noteworthy in the encounter, and sheering
a little, continued listlessly to advance. But his eye happening
to fall on the muzzle of our hero's rifle as he was passing,
he stopped short, and after pausing a moment, with a sort of
puzzled, enquiring expression, looked up and said—
“That Metacom gun, sure. How you have him here?”
Willis instantly perceived both his error and his danger—
his error in so thoughtlessly appearing here with a gun, the
like of which, he knew, was nowhere to be found in the country,
except in the possession of King Philip, and consequently his
imminent danger of being thereby detected. His hand, which
he had purposely kept thrust within his dress, was grasping the
handle of the murderous knife that hung there concealed.
But hoping to be spared the necessity of using it, since the
worst suspicion of his unwelcome interrogator, as yet probably
everything might depend on his reply and manner at this
critical moment, he affected at first an air of slight surprise,
and then bestowing a sort of boastful look on his gun, carelessly
said—
“Then you no hear about it—gun mine—bought it of praying
Indian come from Boston.”
“Ugh!” exclaimed the doubtful Wampanoog, bending on
the down cast and well schooled face of the other, a look of
deep, though still not very well defined suspicion. “No believe—go
see,” he added, hesitating, but finally moving off
towards the chief, to ascertain the truth of the doubted assertion.
Willis could almost feel the burning gaze, with which he
knew the Indian was regarding him, but without venturing
to return it, or make any reply, he faced about, and with an
indifferent, swaggering manner, stood as if waiting to hear the
result of the threatened inquiry. But not long was he content
to remain in this attitude. Believing the Wampanoog,
whose suspicions had been dangerously aroused, would return
for a further scrutiny, which would probably result in the
still more certainly fatal measure of being compelled to confront
the eagle eyed chief himself, he instantly resolved to run the
risk of a precipitate flight rather than remain to undergo such
a hopeless ordeal.
Waiting no longer, therefore, than to see a few intervening
trees placed between him and the receding Indian, he cautiously
edged himself along into the bushes, glided rapidly
round to the rear of the thick tree top, which had before so
effectually screened him, and then bounded forward, in the
same direction, thirty or forty rods into the forest without
stopping to listen, or look behind him. Here throwing himself
behind a large tree, standing on a small rise, he paused
him from the scene he had just left; hardly expecting, however,
that in the two or three minutes that only could have
elapsed since he lost sight of the suspecting Wampanoog, that
his story, whatever it might have been, could have possibly
been communicated and understood, so that any alarm should
as yet be thus created.
But he was not long in discovering his mistake, or in being
convinced that his escape had not been one moment too soon
effected. A confused murmur of excited voices, in the direction
of the camp, quickly apprised him, that his foes were in
commotion; and almost at the same instant, a low, sharp yell
of exultation, evidently rising near the spot where he entered
the thick woods, saluted his startled ears, plainly telling him
that a band of pursuers had already discovered and entered
on his trail.
Protruding his head for a last glance, before leaving his
stand, his eyes were suddenly greeted with a stream of smoke
fiercely darting out from a thicket, about half way between
him and the supposed locality of his pursuers, and with the
instantly succeeding report of a musket, he became sensible
that a bullet was grazing the tree and passing between his
chin and his breast. Quickly throwing himself at the roots
of the tree, so that no further glimpse or shadow of his person
could be obtained, he paused a moment for thought. He
judged, and rightly too, that the shot came from the Indian
he had encountered, who, after sounding the alarm, had run
ahead in pursuit, and judged rightly, also, that this Indian,
after firing, would not approach any nearer, for fear of a return
shot, till his companions should come up. And
having settled this in his mind, he rapidly crept away
from the screening tree, a few rods into the thickest part of
the woods in view, rose to his feet, and turning a sharp angle
his company were stationed, made his way through the
tangled forest with a speed which was quickened every furlong
of his progress by the fierce yells of his evidently
fast accumulating foes in hot pursuit, but a short distance
behind him.
| CHAPTER XII. The doomed chief, or, Two hundred years ago | |